What’s At the Heart of It?

(I’ll breathe, look, smile and offer a big wave, then maybe a shy, sweet wave!)

I’ve been noticing that if I take some deep breaths,
look at people, smile and wave
that people smile and wave back.

You know I want to offer you something profound, deep, and inspiring,
But what I am offering you is simply
my breathing and my joy in greeting this day and you.

The question “What is at the heart of it?”
is what the theologians and philosophers call an ontological question.
The study of being asks, “What am I? What am I becoming?
What are we together?”

I have been asking people, “What is at the heart of this congregation?”
I am glad to ask and to get to hear people’s responses.
Everyone has something to offer.

People say at the heart of the congregation is community, love, acceptance, freedom, service, vibrancy, learning, our relationship to the holy,
the loving spirit moving among us.

At the Valentine’s Tea, Beth said, “peace with justice.”
Jo said, “‘Yes’ is at the heart of it.”
Shelia said, “What’s at the heart is all of us.”

A week ago Thursday night at the 7:30 program,
the folks gathered shared deeply.
They are my great teachers and resources for today’s words,
glimpses of the richness they offered.

At the heart, Sandy said, is “fairness to all, fairness to those society rejects.”

John said, “If everyone embodied the principles
of the inherent worth and dignity of all people
and the interconnected web of all existence,
there would be no war.
So at the heart of who we are,” he says, “is sharing our message
to affect the world,
to increase the possibilities of creativity and peace.”

Jean said, “When this congregation is at our best,
we are being warm, loving, fun and real.”
Joyce said, “When we are at our best,
we are inclusive, supportive, encouraging, inspiring.”

“When we do more of what works,” she said,
“there is growth for each and all.
Everyone becomes a minister.

If the love within us is recognized,
we are eager to take a risk to spread it —
because,” she said, “we know love is not rationed.
We feel the abundance; it’s easy to spread.”

“The holy,” she went on, “is here within each of us when we look for it.
We need reminders to look. It is human to forget.”

“Songs, learning songs, knowing them,
feeling them,” she said, “are the way to tell the story of who we are.”

While I was a student at Starr King School for the Ministry,
I could be found sometimes wandering
around the Graduate Theological Union, the area called Holy Hill,
singing Jubilate Deo. Be joyful in God.

I was like a kid again, practically skipping,
so glad to be where I was, doing what I was doing.
I was joyful. I felt in love. In love with life.

This was a time of learning, of growing.
The message the school communicated
in one form or another, over and over, was
You are constantly invited to be who you are.

I felt accepted as I was
and, at the same time, encouraged to be my best self.

Folks at the school would ask each other, “How are you?”
And really want to hear.
Big questions were asked. “Who is your neighbor? What is possible?”
People were curious to know what one another thought.

Feeling valued, being listened to so well
made me want to speak the truth, share what was important.

How people listened to me affected how I listened to people.
The goodness and joy of the place rippled out.

This was a very good time in my life.
And it wasn’t all easy.
I was in the midst of the break-up of my marriage,
raising two young children.
I was in transition.
I had left home and left my career of teaching.
I didn’t have a job; I was a full-time student;
and I didn’t know what was next.
Things weren’t all smooth and certain,
but I felt trusting.

Some of you know it was my practice at the time to walk to school.
As I walked, I would say hello — to whatever I saw.
Sometimes I would even say it out loud.
Hello, pink blossoming cherry trees.
Hello crack in the sidewalk.
Top of the morning to you, yellow daffodils.
Hello, jogger.
Hello, person asking for spare change.
Beautiful day to you, young guy with the big wide smile.

A quiet respectful nod to you who look so hurting.

A wave, to you, construction workers.

And hello to whatever is going on in me.
Hello, part of me that feels uncertain.
I see you, my tender worry.
Hello, old familiar part that feels selfish and unworthy.
Hello, loneliness.
Hello, little place inside that’s scared.
Greetings to you, feeling of excitement.
Hello, hope.
Hello, life.

I felt alive.
The liveliness had both depth and playfulness.
People would look up at me and smile,
stop me on the street to greet me and talk.
Jubilate Deo.

When have been the times in your life you’ve been most joyous?

Is it times like this?
I want to be like that more.

I want to be with people like that.

This is what’s possible in religious community.

We can practice together.

“All actual life is encounter,”
wrote Jewish philosopher Martin Buber in his book I and Thou.

Life is an encounter with what’s going on outside us and inside us.

“All real living is meeting.”
“In the beginning,” Buber teaches, “is relation.”
Spirit moves in relationship.

For Buber, the practice is meeting every being, everything
as a Thou rather than an It.

And “every particular Thou is a glimpse through to the eternal Thou.”

Our relating to…trees…, to each other…, to our feelings
is a practice of attention, of presence, of bringing our whole being to living.
Now it’s time for me to tend to this practice.
I let myself be busy, hurried, distracted,
with a To Do list, too long and never completed….

It’s time for me to practice.
(Breathe, look)
Hello, amazing people.
Hello, shy, tentative part of me.
Hello…
Greetings to you who have come here for your first Sunday.
Top of the morning to you who have come for so many years
you’ve lost track of how many Sundays.
Beautiful day to you all.

I want to practice Being.

I invite you to practice too.

I invite you to remind me to practice.

Practice, as my teachers say, is needed; practice is rewarding.

Being: The letters of the word help me remember the essence of being.
B for breathe
E for experiencing
I — interested
N — naming
G — grateful

And if I notice I’m so busy thinking of the word
and trying to remember what the letters mean
that I can’t be with the person right before me,
I can stop at B-E.
Breathe, experience.
Be, just be.

Remembering breathing is a way to pause, to slow down.
Looking in eyes makes connection, experiencing heart to heart.

I was thinking about all this on Thursday.
I was getting into it.
I came here for some meetings.
And I forgot.
I walked home
between the meetings and returning for Thursday night supper.
As I walked, I remembered.
Well, I was kind of in and out with remembering.
I was going over the conversations
and then I’d return to breathing, eyes open to experience,
interested, naming, and grateful.

I waved hello to some guys working on a house.
They smiled and waved.

Right after that, a car came along,
the driver rolled down his window and said,
“You’re enjoying this day, aren’t you?”

Then I saw a deer prancing up the street.
Another car came along and a young kid in the back seat and I
both pointed up the street to the deer-
nodding and smiling to each other.

I worry.
If I open myself to everyone who comes along,
a part of me is scared, afraid I’ll be overwhelmed.
What if someone wants more from me than I can give?

But, what better time than now for me to learn about setting my limits.
I might have to say,
“What I have to offer now is my greetings,
this moment of our meeting,
my good wishes for you…
It’s not everything, but it is something.
It is what I can give.”

Presence can call forth the best.

And of course, sometimes self-respect and care for the community
mean an even stronger setting of limits.
As a congregation, we can practice being with one another.

Presence is no small thing.
In a world with so much posturing,
in political campaigns and with the war,
there’s so much public positioning and persona.
There is saying so much, but not too much.

To be on a deeper level, to be authentic is not easy.
Lots of forces are at work to get us to conform to superficial image-
like advertising influencing us to be something other than who we are.

Being your self and being part of the world is big, basic,
at the heart of being alive.

I figure if we practice being with one another,
we’ll be singing Jubilate Deo or Sing and Rejoice.

We feel the presence of the Spirit of Love moving in us.
We will be on the look out for the spirit in each other.

Each person will feel deeply acknowledged,
accepted for who they are
and encouraged to become more themselves.

It’ll be that people can’t wait for Sunday to roll around to be here,
to be together as much as possible.
When the love within us is recognized,
we are eager to take a risk to spread it.

What we practice here is good for the world.
Wednesday is Ash Wednesday.
In the Christian tradition this is a day of remembering that we die.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Remembering and preparing for death is a good way to live.
Ash Wednesday begins the forty days of lent
when Christians prepare for new life.

What would you need to prepare for new life-
new life right now in this life?
What sort of attitude would you want to cultivate?
What practices would prepare you?

Maybe it is to practice being-
breathing, experiencing each other, interested, naming, grateful.

Rumi sings, “This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival…Treat each guest honorably…
meet them. Be grateful.”

Forty days of reminders and practice
make something become habitual, natural, authentic.

I invite you to have the little soft mantra of BE
in your mind and heart today
as you approach people both familiar and new to you.

Breathe, experience each other.

I invite you to take it with you during the week,
for us to be gentle with ourselves when we forget,
and when we remember to then breathe and meet.

At the heart of who we are
is meeting and greeting the holy within each of us,
the spirit of love moving among us and beyond.

As we practice together,
for forty days and forty nights, say,
the day will break,
the sun will come a shining in our souls.

We join hands with one another
to remind us of the truth that we are all connected.

We breathe deeply, experience one another,
hand to hand and heart to heart.

Look: the holy is here within each of us,
moving among us.

May we deeply regard each other.
Be gentle and curious.
Truly listen.
Speak what longs to be spoken.
Give thanks.
The Spirit of Life sings in our hearts.
Love is abundant, wanting to be released, shared and spread.
Jubilate Deo.