SETTING A PLACE FOR ELIJAH: Welcoming Into the Circle as Spiritual Practice

SETTING A PLACE FOR ELIJAH: Welcoming Into the Circle as Spiritual Practice May 1, 2016

welcome mat

SETTING A PLACE FOR ELIJAH

Welcoming into the Circle as Spiritual Practice

James Ishmael Ford

1 May 2016

Pacific Unitarian Church
Rancho Palos Verdes, California

Not long ago Vivian Hao and I were sitting in a little coffee shop in Long Beach talking about church growth. A subject that you might imagine is close to my heart. In that particular conversation we were discussing communities that we as Unitarian Universalists have not reached out to, but should be thinking about. And in particular what that reaching out might mean for us here at Pacific Unitarian. Vivian had a simple idea. She thought we should be holding a hand out to our immediate neighbors. I agreed. Low hanging fruit, after all. Then she raised the thought of reaching out to people of East Asian descent, many of whom are in fact those very next-door neighbors here on the hill. She observed how much like us they are in very important ways, particularly as “seekers of truth who are open to different ideas.” Then she rather dryly added, and, “They speak English.”

Yes, I thought. Yes! I’ve long thought if we really want to be ethnically diverse, we should in fact look at immigrants from East Asia, especially from China, Japan, and Korea, and in particular to their American descendants. Vivian is right. I look at their approach to religion with its easy syncretism, and willingness to hold more than one view at the same time, and yes, it fits astonishingly comfortably with Unitarian Universalism. One of my pet rants is how we as UUs by our own peculiar evolution have come to look more like a Western Daoism, with maybe a dash of Confucianism than Christianity or Judaism or Islam. So, yes. Absolutely. Yes!

Vivian agreed. Okay, maybe she actually raised the idea in our little talk, first. Anyway I thought, what a smart woman. I knew there was something I liked about her.

Of course the question before that question is why growth? Are we just talking about increasing income? New members do tend to bring financial support. And, our budget is tight. However, if that’s why we want to grow I find myself slightly repelled. While I believe we need to be business-like, that is we need to pay attention to our financial obligations, keep the lights on, pay our staff, all that: still, the bottom line of our spiritual community is not the bottom line of an account register. When we think numbers, we have to be very careful.

However, I’m also mindful of something our current UU president Peter Morales observed a while back. He wrote, “I sometimes hear people say that growth is more than just numbers.” Me, James, as I read this, I thought, “yeah!” And, maybe I was feeling a little self-righteous in the “our bottom line is not an account register bottom line” sense. Then Peter made a rather interesting turn, declaring: “Such a point of view is almost entirely nonsense.” Well that caught me from left field.

He went on to say, “Growth is about numbers. However, we have to remember that numbers are not about numbers. Unless we are doing pure mathematics, numbers are about real things…” And then Peter brought it all home when he declared, “Let me also add that for me, growth is not really our goal.” And here he threaded the needle, showing the real point of it all. Peter said, simply, cleanly, “Our goal is to offer a religious home, to feed the spiritually hungry. Our goal is to make a difference in people’s lives.” I have to repeat that: “Our goal (as Unitarian Universalists) is to offer a religious home, to feed the spiritually hungry. Our goal is to make a difference in people’s lives.”

I think Peter summarizes what it is we’re about when he goes on to assert, “You and I are relational creatures. We become fully human in a network of relationships. We desperately long to belong. We need community the way we need food and shelter. Yet, in our pursuit of a misguided sense of independence and economic opportunity, we have created a society that systematically rips apart human relationships. Yet our need for deep relationship never goes away.” Here I found myself catching the echoes of that line from scripture, “where two or three are gathered…” We’re about that gathering.

And here we get what that oft-repeated term in UU circles “covenant” means for us. Our way is not about right thought as symbolized by creeds; it is about right relationship, as symbolized by covenants. Specifically for us we agree to make a real part of our lives together, and in some important ways make ourselves accountable to each other, all symbolized by signing our membership book. It has a lot of freedom built-in, we are as much about the individual as the community. But in joining a UU congregation we agree to enter into the tension between those poles of the human heart, our individuality and our relatedness.

The liberal spiritual way has other markers, as well, of course. Possibly the most obvious is how we consciously embrace a rational approach to religion. And we also famously embrace doubt as some glorious good thing rather than an obstacle to faith. But more than anything else when we come into covenant as Unitarian Universalists, we take on a commitment to open ourselves to others, and with that we are embracing a spiritual discipline, an amazingly powerful, and, really, not easy spiritual practice.

And it is with this understanding we find we’re called to not be a closed circle. Which brings us that conversation Vivien and I had in that Long Beach coffee shop, and coming up with conscious ways to reach out to those who have the ears to hear, the hearts to respond.

I think of the Passover tradition where there’s always an extra place at the table. If you’re unfamiliar, that setting is for Elijah. In Jewish folklore, and carried over into Christian myth, as well as in Islam, Elijah is a bringer of good news, a prophet or sometimes an angel of God. When we set out a place for a stranger, we are opening our hearts to new possibilities. In many ways I consider this the central spiritual practice of Unitarian Universalism. We dress it up in fancy language, as it deserves, and we talk of pluralism and a desire to be a welcoming home for a greater variety of folk than we usually achieve. All true. And, we are less successful at this than many of us would like.

In fact some can see our failure to include people of color in significant numbers, or many folk outside the middle and upper middle classes proof of our hypocrisy. There is genuine pain that many of us feel at this failure so far. But I suggest while we have been mostly a ghetto for the over-educated and economically comfortable, we genuinely have an aspiration. We intuit within our bones and marrow that we have something of use to more people than we currently count as our own. Speaking out of that deep intuition Vivien reminds us that these folk around us aren’t even really strangers, they’re our neighbors. They are literally our neighbors.

So, with a trembling at the danger as well as at the possibility, reaching out brings possibilities of failure as well as success, and in this we are familiar with failure; I suggest our central way is, nonetheless, one of radical hospitality. A popular term in our denomination right now, but usually one not explored much more, I feel, than as a slogan. But, it is rich, and worth exploring. For instance one reason I actually like the term “radical hospitality” is that we have to share it. We didn’t coin it. As near as I can tell it’s most closely associated with the Benedictine Order in the Catholic Church. But then we don’t claim uniqueness in our tradition, only focus. We have a way, and I suggest very near the heart of this way is reaching out to another.

And so this is a call to open arms, and to open eyes. Embracing hospitality doesn’t mean not being responsible. There are dangers in this life, and that includes human behaviors.
And covenant is not a one-way road; as I alluded to already, but want to underscore, we need to hold each other responsible on this path.

Covenant is about responsibility. People are responsible for their actions, and when we gather within covenant, we are expected to hold each other to bounds of decency and care. And, in the mix, it also means erring on the side of generosity, of kindness. Like for Elijah’s chair, it is always setting out an extra place at the table. And then, seeing what happens, being open to what comes next.

Often, it seems, we discover ever deeper intimacies with what at one time we thought were “others.” Other people. Other creatures. This planet upon which we walk, and the air that we breathe. Our spirituality of welcoming, of presence, often ends up a call to reaching out, and to helping. To each other. And to our planet. The great dance of hearts, the intimate way.

And for us it can start with how we reach out to our neighbors. There are a few rules of the road, but anyone with good will and some common sense can quickly get into the groove. I have a colleague who is married to an American of Indian descent. He observes how his wife being asked for guidance to the best Indian restaurants is okay, although it does kind of get old quickly. But he also notes a recent encounter at a church event, when someone asks him “where she comes from, you know, really comes from.” He replied, “she was born in Chicago and raised in Erie, and her parents are from India…” To which the questioner said, “I figured with her name she had to be imported.” Assuming the stranger-ness, missing the neighbor-ness. Separating rather than including. To take up this way means moving into uncomfortable territory. We will make mistakes. Be open hearted. Be genuine. Be ready to really learn. And who knows what can come of it.

This way really boils down simply enough. I recall when I first attended a Unitarian Universalist worship service. Pushing forty years ago, now. The sermon, well, it wasn’t all that much. But, in the coffee hour following I found myself explaining to a member who asked me about my religious orientation that I was a Buddhist. She was in her eighties, probably late eighties, had that tightly curled white hair favored by some in her generation, gosh, as I think about it, she would be pushing a hundred and twenty today. Anyway she had thick-lensed glasses that made her eyes appear owl-like. I recall they were brown and at least within my imagination speckled with bits of yellow. I also feel I recall a hint of gardenias hanging in the air. She responded enthusiastically to my statement, “Oh wonderful. I don’t know anything about Buddhism.” There was a pause then she asked one of the great questions. “Please tell me what about it has made you a better person?” Interesting question. I’m still working on it. And, you want to talk to someone who is in some way different than you, well, a hint of how to proceed.

And talk about spiritual practice. Talk about hospitality of the radical kind. It really is a spiritual practice. And, maybe, it is our primary spiritual practice.

This is what we find within the covenants of presence we make to and with each other. Setting a place for Elijah. Intimate. Dynamic. Wildly open. And this is an ancient lesson. Again, we’re not unique in what we’re about, what we bring is a particular focus to the project. And with that I recall the words of the 133rd Psalm, in Stephen Mitchell’s wonderful translation.

How wonderful it is to live
in harmony with all people:
like stepping out of the bath,
your whole body fresh and vibrant;
like a morning dew, glistening
on the tiniest blade of grass.
It is God’s infinite blessing,
a taste of eternal life.

Something beautiful.

Something making us better people.

Inside and out.

Don’t you think?

So be it. Blessed be. And, amen.


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