The theme of ministry in our congregation this month is Peace.
Peace can be considered on many levels: international peace, national peace, congregational peace, family peace, and inner peace. Its this last one that I want to focus on today.
Peace is great when it is truly present: we have ease in our bodies, we feel calm in our minds, we smile easily at the people around us, and do our work and sleep without effort.
Peace is great when it allows us to be mature and face challenges with grace.
Peace seems so desirable that sometimes we may pretend to feel peaceful even when we are not. I know that sometimes I have tried, and perhaps you have too: If I can just think about enough beautiful sunsets, maybe I can make myself feel peaceful again. We may be feeling burdens, we may be making mistakes, but can’t quite find a safe place to talk about them. Then, in the silence, those burdens get worse, and we may be tempted to kid ourselves even more. Then, peace seems further away than ever.
This is especially problematic if you are a person who is in a leadership position. In your family, in your workplace, in the community. Here, the temptation to pretend that everything is okay is even stronger. Can anyone here this morning relate?
So, this morning I would like to talk about the peace that comes from being honest with oneself.
In spiritual terms, I am interested in the word “confession.”
Now, this word has gotten a bad rap recently in many circles. And with good reason, in some cases. I’m not talking about public confessions. Say, for example, that have to do with wiki-leaks or email servers or making tax returns public.
I’m also not talking about confession to another person. In some religions, priests play the role of linking to God, and the priests receive the confession. But, this has had mixed results.
Let’s look at the root of the word “confess”. “Con” means to be with. “fess” has to do with speech. So, to “speak with.” Could we see confession as a form of speaking with one’s best self?
What I’m talking about this morning is when a confession, or a “speaking with”, happens directly with one’s conscience, or with one’s Higher Power. As a result of this self-honesty, one doesn’t remain focused on one’s faults, but is freed up to experience one’s inherent worth and dignity more fully. And then, to contribute to the world more fully.
I would like to share three different examples that illuminate how peace might come from being honest with oneself.
Here is the first story. Once upon a time, in ancient India lived a wealthy merchant. He heard that a guru was travelling near his town, and this guru was very wise, sharing teachings and healings. Many people with ailments were going to see this guru. So, the wealthy merchant went to the guru and said, “Sir, my physical problem is that I am not able to sleep at night. Can you help me?” The guru gave him some herbs to take and asked him to come back in a week. A week later, the man came back. “Sir, I am still not able to sleep. Can you help me in some other way?” The guru gave him some yoga exercises and to do each day for a week. The man came back after a week of doing the exercises each day. “Sir, I am still not able to sleep at night. Can you offer a different remedy?” The teacher said, “Go home. Write down the names of every person you have ever cheated in your business.” The merchant’s eyes became wide, and his mouth dropped open. “No, sir, I have never cheated anyone in my business!” But, he went home. And, as he lay on his bed that night, he said to himself… “Well, perhaps there was that one time that I increased the price for one gentleman… and perhaps there was that one time that I didn’t give a full delivery of goods to another businessman…and perhaps those times that I…” All night he laid awake recalling the times that he had not been honest. Finally, the sun rose, and he fell asleep, and slept for a whole day and night. He went back to the guru and thanked him for his wisdom.
The second example that I would like to share with you comes from the Hebrew scriptures. The Psalms are a group of poems that were believed to be songs sung in the Temple about 2,500 years ago. Psalm 32 has a verse which describes the heaviness of having something on one’s conscience.
The reason that I want to share this with you is because I think it also describes a universal experience in which physical symptoms arise when we have done something that we felt wasn’t right. Have you ever found that you just can’t eat, while you are wondering whether you acted against your own values? Have you ever felt tired, like you can’t move, by the weight of knowing that you crossed your own line of kind and just behavior? Have you longed for the relief that would come from knowing you had made peace with your conscience, or your Higher Power?
Here are the words that were written by a fellow human thousands of years ago in Psalm 32: “Happy are those whose transgression is forgiven.
While I kept silent, my body wasted away
through my groaning every night and day.
Your hand was heavy upon me;
My strength was weakened as by the summer heat. Then I acknowledged my sin to you,
And you forgave the guilt of my sin.”
In this translation, sin is a general term, meaning “to miss the mark.” Can’t we all relate to that? Iniquity refers to destructive behavior, or distorting a situation. Turning something from its natural course. When I think of turning something from its natural course, I think of mountain top removal. Although I myself have not engaged in mining, I do use the electricity generated from mountain top removal, and I have not been as active as I would like in supporting alternative energy sources. But when I acknowledge my participation in this social system, I free up my energy to engage in positive political and economic action to solve the problem.
What I hear in this ancient verse is that a person kept silent, perhaps afraid of the rush of feelings and responsibility if they truly acknowledged what they had done. Perhaps during the silence this person’s mind was busy intelligently justifying and rationalizing their actions.
Later, the person experiences a kind of cleansing. A kind of release. A new health. A kind of happiness that is not a cartoon happiness, but a mature, realistic, humble happiness that comes from having guilt removed. I find it interesting that the sin itself was not removed, but the weight of the guilt was removed.
My friends, as I share this example with you, I am well aware that this concept could be distorted if we see this as only relating to a top-down God who dispenses forgiveness. I am also aware that it could be distorted if we see forgiveness as removing accountability. Please know that Unitarian Universalist theology offers us a way of seeing the divine inside ourselves and our natural world, and encourages us to make reparations when needed. This morning I am only talking about one aspect of confession.
Having told you the story of the wealthy merchant who couldn’t sleep, and the ancient Israelite who felt their body was wasting away, I want to offer a third way of looking at confession as bringing peace to our souls.
For our third example, I’d like to draw from a book about infidelity, and fidelity. Dr. Frank Pittman was a psychiatrist who practiced for the last five decades, and observed patterns, myths, and truths about what made marriages work. He was open to many forms of marriage and arrangements, but noted that was establishes fidelity is when you actually stick to the agreements you make. One observation he made was: “”Marriage, like a submarine, is only safe if you get all the way inside.” So, marriage is an example of a time when we can set ourselves up to be honest with ourselves, or not.
Dr. Pittman saw again and again that certain predictable transitions could strain a person’s fidelity. These transitions include the arrival of children, the departure of children, significant illness, and the realization that we all grow old if we live long enough. He also observed that guilt, in small doses, could be a healthy emotion that helped people stick to their agreements.
Finally, he saw that people who tried to convince themselves, or their partners, that they were perfect, often made themselves vulnerable to greater problems. He advised, and I’m quoting him here: ““[the revelation of an infidelity is most shocking and horrifying in those marriages that had seemed ‘perfect’. ] Perfection, however, is inhuman. Moslem rug weavers make sure they weave imperfections into the rugs, since any human effort at perfection is insulting to Allah. … Once it is clear that you are only human and that is okay, then the marriage can begin… Reveal your human imperfections at home, so you can be understood and loved.” Reveal your imperfections, so you can be understood and loved.
The reason I think Dr. Pittman’s observations are worth sharing is because it is one more way of seeing that when we can be honest with ourselves, our lives are enriched. Indeed, the very home that one is trying to sustain is jeopardized by the reluctance to see ourselves, flaws and all. What good news, then, that being honest with ourselves actually leads to an easier time in relating with others.
This, my friends, is what I think a healthy, regular confession can be about. I am not talking about going home and laying on your family and friends a whole bunch of baggage all at once. I am talking about a regular self-awareness, and then, sharing in gentle, respectful ways, what is honestly going on inside of you. My theme today is that we have to have a regular practice of talking honestly with ourselves, and finding that inner peace, before we bring that honesty to others. Dr. Pittman’s overall message is that when a person does that, they don’t need to go outside their covenanted relationship to find intimacy.
So, I shared those three examples to lift up the fact that cultivating inner peace by being honest with oneself has many benefits:
– It helps us relax, because we are no longer straining to hold up false protection.
– Once we are relaxed, it helps us act.
– Once we are ready to act, we are ready to be in relationship, and in healthy community.
So, how can this be done? Since confession has often been distorted to be about punishment or isolation, how can we in the Unitarian Universalist tradition find meaningful ways to acknowledge personal truths to ourselves? I imagine you have already thought of some as you have been listening. And I have a few suggestions:
– Writing in a journal is a way to get your thoughts out on paper where you can see them.
– Sitting in meditation is a way to allow your mind to clear enough that you can let difficult things come to the surface.
– Drawing in the sands of atonement that are here in the sanctuary is a way of physically symbolizing what has happened and that a new shape and pattern can be made in your life. You can use these sands anytime the church is open, especially on Wednesdays midday.
– Talking out loud to oneself, perhaps while driving or going for a walk, is a way to hear yourself say the things that you are trying to acknowledge to yourself.
– Telling your Higher Power, or your Spirit Animal, or your guardian angel is a way to trust that something beyond you can help you hold this.
– Reading the Litany of Atonement that we did earlier is a way to connect to the universal themes of confession, experienced by all humans.
Those are just a few suggestions of how you can concretely practice confession in a positive, healing way with yourself.
We heard earlier the story of Zora, the little girl whose family had a lamp in their home, which was also the lamp that lit the church, and also a lamp passed down to others. We all have the opportunity to be a beacon of light, and each of us has a light inside of us. We have energy to burn for the highest good, but sometimes it burns in unhelpful ways. Most lamps, as they burn, leave some soot, some residue, some dark, build up of ashes on the inside of the glass. This makes the light less able shine out. So, the glass needs to be cleaned from time to time. We have the opportunity to be honest with ourselves about the soot, the ash, that might, from time to time, build up, and obscure our light from shining as brightly as it could. May we all, as we live this life, let our energy for living be examined and refreshed. Let us let our lights shine. Blessed be. Amen.
