The Divine Spark!

In this season of darkness, the ancients gathered together, sang and danced and told stories to bring back the light, to nourish the spirit. Some told the story of creation and how human beings came to be fashioned out of the dust of the ground. Up from clay, formed with care, and then, and then the breath of life, the Divine Spark, was blown into every cell, the animating essence.

And every year, as the darkness threatens to overtake us, as the days become shorter and the chill of winter draws us inward, we wonder again at the mystery of it all, and we sing the old songs and we light candles, warming the spirit.

It is not by chance that we crave the light, the spark of life. It is the essence of our being. We are stardust come to life. The atoms of our bodies are the same essence as the distant planets, stars and galaxies. This spark of consciousness, this miraculous quality of awareness, is worthy of our highest praise. It is through our deepest knowing that we understand the interconnection of all.

This is the human story, told in similar ways in the great religions of the world. Buddhists affirm that all beings are imbued with a spark of inner divine light. Jewish mystics use similar words when they speak of the inner spark of God. The Qur’an speaks of the divine spark within every human being that allows us to understand Allah. And Christians understand God’s presence at the heart of not only human nature but of the whole created Universe and they call it the Holy Spirit.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, 19th Century re-framer of Unitarian thought and proponent of Transcendentalism, was heavily influenced by Eastern thought, and particularly Buddhism. He believed in “the Oversoul,” made up of the divine spark within and connecting all aspects of nature, including human beings.

Emerson suggested we experience the Divine Spark, not through our capacity for rational thought, but through our intuition. There is a knowing of oneself that we call insight, and in that knowing we open ourselves to the divine within others. Through the use of our intuition we filter and interpret the input from our senses. We listen with appreciation and allow what we hear to meet and mingle with the fullness of our awareness. Divine spark meets divine spark and the light grows.

It all sounds so reassuring.

Yet, I struggle to see the divine light in all humans. I have to work at going beyond the violence of warriors and those who fear loss of control, those who are so strong in their belief that there is no room for growth. And sometimes I wonder about my own divine spark. In the thoughtless actions of my day-to-day life, my complicity in a war of occupation and knowing of genocide, how can I claim there is a divine spark in all beings? How can there be worth and dignity in the rapist, the murderer, the thief, the suicide bomber, in me?

This is the human dilemma. This is the deep struggle of consciousness. How can we overcome the alienation that separates us from others? Are the forces of evil that cloud my vision, diminish my creativity, and lead me to doubt the divine spark within so strong that I give up, and build walls around myself? How can we mend the torn fabric of human community? Are we afraid if we try we will fail? Is the challenge too great?

Violence in Iraq, and Darfur, and Oakland and Richmond, and in the homes in which we live, challenges the core of our affirmations of the worthiness of all humanity.

Could this be why I am drawn to stop for a time, to sit in the dark and light a candle? Deep within me I know the truth that we are all connected, that we are the stars, and the air, and the longing. Yet, sometimes I need to see the light burning beyond me to remember, to warm my intuition, to re-kindle the spark within.

When was the last time you looked into the eyes of an infant? Barbara, Chris and I attended a meeting of our ministers’ study group last week and one of our colleagues brought her four-month old daughter with her. Now, this is a disciplined group of colleagues, but sometimes in the middle of a sentence, our attention would wander to a particular place in our circle. Regularly oooos and ahhhhs punctuated our speaking. An unusual and welcome playfulness brought smiles to our faces. Those tiny little fingers. That soft angelic skin. And those big eyes, taking in the world, meeting our inquiring eyes, offering recognition, lips moving, smiling, delight.

If ever I have witnessed the Divine Spark, it is in the eyes of an infant. The light of being, recognized in all places, through all time, is there, in its innocence and power.

When was the last time you looked into the eyes of someone approaching the end of their life? There are as many ways of dying as there are of living, yet, my experience in ministry is that many people, fortunate to be given the time, the capacity, and the opportunity to reflect on their lives and the meaning of their relationships, come to a place of understanding and acceptance. As we approach death, we are not always able to reconcile with those from whom we have become alienated, yet we can gain the wisdom that comes from forgiving others, and ourselves.

If ever I have witnessed the Divine Spark, it is in the eyes of someone approaching death who is open to the journey. The light of being, recognized in all places, through all time, is there, in its grace and power.

My lifelong friend Tom recently moved to Costa Rica. He loves immersing himself in another culture. He speaks Spanish well enough to be friendly and to take conversations beyond the surface. He sends me email descriptions of his encounters with the people of Costa Rica. He says:

At this time of the year, this holiday season, the world over, I pray we will look into one another’s eyes and see curiosity and compassion. If we focus on the eyes of the infant, the aged, the stranger, and one another, we are more likely to remember the Divine Spark when we are confronted with violence.

In our anger, or fear, or disgust, or exhaustion, we so easily close our eyes and our hearts to the truth that reconciliation requires compassion. If we are to mend the tears in the human fabric, in our homes and across religions and cultures, we must open ourselves to the experience of others. We may never fully understand the actions of the perpetrator of violence, but in our compassion we may enable ourselves to stay present to ourselves and to what we are feeling. We may be able to share our stories with someone who stays present with us and offers compassion. And in this very act we may transform the world. When we are truly present with another, when we experience another with compassion, we cannot become alienated.

Yet, how to stay present is a skill many of us have not learned.

This is the idea at the heart of our small group ministry program Chalice Circles. We gather with others and focus ourselves. We light a chalice to remind us both of the heritage that nourishes us and of the nature of on-going truth. The flame is alive, burning, something new in every moment, yet always of the essence of light. Someone speaks of their life, sharing from their depth. The rest of us practice to become experts at listening, learning how to allow the fullness of another’s experience, another’s spark, to feed our own. And then we each speak in turn from the truth we know. Our Chalice Circles will add new members in January.

In this holiday season there are so many reminders to be present to the Divine Spark within and among us.

Advent candles, Kwanza candles, Hanukkah candles, Yule logs, bonfires on a long Solstice night, bright stars over mangers, lights trimming houses, these are the objects of human rituals of healing, calling us out of our separation and into the light and the warmth of human community.

In the time of darkness the people come together to rekindle the spark of hope. The light of community burns more brightly than anyone can imagine.

Here in this sacred place the light of community burns brightly.

The Divine Spark moves through the life of this congregation. It shines through our history. This congregation stood up against McCarthyism and the loyalty oath. It took a stand in the sanctuary movement housing El Salvadoran people, and in making a home for Chinese dissidents.

The Divine Spark of this congregation shines in Richmond and San Pablo schools as volunteers read to students, and in the support we give to our partner church and village in Transylvania. We shine in our participation in the Greater Richmond Interfaith Program, and in the giving last month of 6060 pounds of food and over $7,100 to emergency pantries to feed hungry people, in our passion for justice.

The Divine Spark shines in small groups where there is heartfelt honest deep speaking and listening.

The Divine Spark shines in our rites of passage, in memorial services where an individual life is held up in its beauty and uniqueness, in the sharing of our wholly families, and the stories of all kinds of people.

The Divine Spark shines in our children and our elders and all in between and in the interactions among them, in our care for one another and in our music, our worship and play together

In the coming days, may you recognize this divine spark when you follow your call not only to serve the community and the larger world but to serve yourself. Then your eyes may light up. Then your excitement may grow.

We each carry the divine spark. When it seems to grow dim in another, when we doubt its very existence, may we remember that though

We are awaiting the moment of magic,
[the] blessing [is here now]:
we already possess all the gifts we need;
we’ve already received our presents:
ears to hear music,
eyes to behold lights,
hands to build true peace on earth and to hold each other tight,
hearts to spark a divine love.
    - adapted from Rev. Victoria Safford

May we blow on the embers of that spark, and
bring the light of hope and love and purpose
to our lives and to the world!

Amen.  ♦