SERMON: HOW TO STAND
Hope Unitarian Church
June 3, 2012
I began taking ballet at 3 years old. Years and years of barre exercises taught me the proper way to hold my body while dancing ballet. Even now, whenever I see a ballet barre my body just seems to find its way into the positions. And I can hear my teacher reminding me to “watch my turn out” and to “tuck my tush.” When I tried modern dance years later, I had a very hard time getting my hands to stay straight while I danced, as they just seemed to curl themselves into this shape. (shows ballet hands) And my toes just seemed to want to point, no matter how many times my teacher reminded me to flex them. My body had been conditioned to go into certain shapes when it was dancing. So when I have danced in other ways, like modern, I have had to work extra hard, push extra hard against that conditioning in order to be able to do something else.
We are all conditioned by the culture in which we live. We are conditioned to keep silent at incredible injustice. We are conditioned to judge one another based on how much we have or how well we dress. We are conditioned to feel more comfortable with people like us than with difference.
It takes extra effort to break out of this conditioning. It takes pushing, hard, in the other direction to get us moving. It’s not a simple, one time action. It’s a continual, sustained practice of changing behavior and attitudes. We have to find ways to change our stance in the world.
As citizens of the United States, we are often taught to stand in ways that assert out superiority. The sense of privilege that is part of the cultural air we breathe affects all of us. We are taught that we are the most important people in the world. We are taught that we deserve more than everyone else. We are taught that there we are liberators, who save other countries and cultures from themselves with our military action.
We may not believe the rhetoric. But it is so deeply ingrained in our culture, that there are remnants of those attitudes in all of us. It takes effort to work against those impulses. We have to push against them regularly. We have to stand, firmly, in opposition to our own cultural arrogance.
So, when something arises in the world that calls me to wish to stand, I wonder about how we might stand in a way that is accountable and humble, a way that pushes against the sense of knowing all of the answers that marks such ignorance
When, this week, we heard the cries from Syria, I wondered how we were to stand with those fighting brutality and bloodshed in a way that was respectful and appropriate. I heard an interview with a Syrian activist, Hamza Oumar, on All Things Considered on NPR a few days ago, asking for the international community to stand with him and his people. He had witnessed the massacre that in Houla that is now drawing attention to violence that has been occurring for some time. He tells his account of the shelling on the town, followed by groups of militia accompanied by officers in the Syrian army going from house to house, door to door, killing entire families.
The interview ends with these words from Oumar: We call upon the international community to take action. Your silence is basically a license to kill, handed over to the Assad regime. This regime is brutal and blood thirsty. It can’t be taken down except with outside military interference. Please, rescue us. We are being slaughtered. We’re being slaughtered.
Hearing this pulled on my heart. Especially after the horrific picture he had painted of his journey through the town to find body after body. Especially after he shared that most of those killed were women and children. The second time he said that phrase: We are being slaughtered, I choked up a bit. It was overwhelming. And I didn’t want to wait, I wanted to help him as soon as I could.
When injustice breaks our hearts, when it reached into us and tears us apart a bit, we are immediately called to action. And then, we must take a breath. We must take a moment of pause. Of honest reflection.
We’ve been asked for help. We’ve been told, by a reputable Syrian source, that the only solution is military interference. And, of course, the situation quickly became far more complicated as Russia stood with the Syrian government, (President Vladimir Putin of Russia is a major arms dealer for President Bashar al-Assad of Syria). The plot is indeed thick.
So how are we to know where to stand? When to stand? How to stand? In this and so many other tricky situations that face us each day. For there are as many opportunities to stand up for what we believe in and to stand with those in need of our support as there are moments in the day.
I start with my understanding of what it means to be an ally, a person of privilege engaged deeply in the struggle for more equity and justice in this world. Of what it means to work with others, rather than for them. To begin with the humility of knowing that I do not have all of the answers.That I may not even have many, for I know very little about a very complex situation.
So, I find that doing my homework is incredibly important. And still, after researching situations closely, I must remind myself that I cannot understand completely what it is like to be a part of another culture, to be immersed in another kind of world, so I must remain intellectually humble even if I learn so much that I could be considered an expert.
I have to give in to the vulnerability of working against some very deeply ingrained attitudes and behaviors, knowing that I will mess up along the way and that there will be consequences. I have to be willing to make amends when I make mistakes, to say I am sorry to those that I have hurt and to change my behaviors and learn to make different mistakes. I also question my motivations for action to begin with. Am I interested in saving someone? For if so, there is my privilege raging its ugly head and I should perhaps do some more reflection for I am not a savoir, nor is my country.
Or did my heart hurt in hearing the tale because I know that every horrible death, every injustice, tears apart the fabric of humanity and therefore, hurts me personally? Am I called to action because my faith calls me to help to repair the world for my own sake and for the sake of others?
I think deeply on the difference between charity and solidarity. For the former comes from my privilege rather than my commitment to the struggle. And solidarity is where real change can occur, in me and in our world. Through solidarity, I listen to the leadership of the oppressed rather than assuming that I know what they need or how to help them. Through solidarity, I learn how to stand differently in the world.
To stand in a way where I am not the center of the universe, which frankly is counter-cultural. It’s a stance that takes practice. That can be hard to practice. But that can be empowering. For in giving up a sense of control and power, we actually gain the power of the all those we stand in solidarity with.
We are no longer one against the world. We are a force to the reckoned with. Our voices become amplified. We are all those who stand with us in the struggle. We are all those who witness injustice and do not keep silent. We are strengthened by one another. We are not alone.
As people of faith, we are called to stand for equity and compassion. We are called to stand with those who ask for our help. We are called to answer the cries for justice that can heard all around this world, around this land, around this community.
But how we answer that call matters. Our stance in the world makes a difference.
I chose to stand humbly. I chose to stand with my body and my heart open to what I might encounter, knowing that this is a more vulnerable position but also a more transformative one. I chose to stand hand in hand with my siblings in creation on this earth. I chose to stand in the midst of the struggle for justice and peace. That is where my faith calls me to be. And how by heart calls me to stand.
Knowing what truths I know, like that we are all connected and that your pain affects me, how can I not stand with love for all of humanity? Knowing how many people hunger and how much violence and fear is rampant in this world, how can I not struggle to create a world for all beings? Knowing that it takes work to push against my own conditioning of consumerism arrogance and self-centeredness, how can I not engage in that work?
Won’t you join me? Won’t you take my hand and walk with me into the midst of the struggle? Where does your faith call you to be? Where will love guide you?
There are many who are asking for us to walk with them. A man in Syria has just asked us to stand with him. Organizations in Arizona, where Unitarian Universalists will gather this month, have asked us to stand with them. People throughout Tulsa are asking us to stand with them. Who will you stand with? And how will you stand?
There are many hands reaching for yours. Reach out. Take them.
June 3, 2012
I began taking ballet at 3 years old. Years and years of barre exercises taught me the proper way to hold my body while dancing ballet. Even now, whenever I see a ballet barre my body just seems to find its way into the positions. And I can hear my teacher reminding me to “watch my turn out” and to “tuck my tush.” When I tried modern dance years later, I had a very hard time getting my hands to stay straight while I danced, as they just seemed to curl themselves into this shape. (shows ballet hands) And my toes just seemed to want to point, no matter how many times my teacher reminded me to flex them. My body had been conditioned to go into certain shapes when it was dancing. So when I have danced in other ways, like modern, I have had to work extra hard, push extra hard against that conditioning in order to be able to do something else.
We are all conditioned by the culture in which we live. We are conditioned to keep silent at incredible injustice. We are conditioned to judge one another based on how much we have or how well we dress. We are conditioned to feel more comfortable with people like us than with difference.
It takes extra effort to break out of this conditioning. It takes pushing, hard, in the other direction to get us moving. It’s not a simple, one time action. It’s a continual, sustained practice of changing behavior and attitudes. We have to find ways to change our stance in the world.
As citizens of the United States, we are often taught to stand in ways that assert out superiority. The sense of privilege that is part of the cultural air we breathe affects all of us. We are taught that we are the most important people in the world. We are taught that we deserve more than everyone else. We are taught that there we are liberators, who save other countries and cultures from themselves with our military action.
We may not believe the rhetoric. But it is so deeply ingrained in our culture, that there are remnants of those attitudes in all of us. It takes effort to work against those impulses. We have to push against them regularly. We have to stand, firmly, in opposition to our own cultural arrogance.
So, when something arises in the world that calls me to wish to stand, I wonder about how we might stand in a way that is accountable and humble, a way that pushes against the sense of knowing all of the answers that marks such ignorance
When, this week, we heard the cries from Syria, I wondered how we were to stand with those fighting brutality and bloodshed in a way that was respectful and appropriate. I heard an interview with a Syrian activist, Hamza Oumar, on All Things Considered on NPR a few days ago, asking for the international community to stand with him and his people. He had witnessed the massacre that in Houla that is now drawing attention to violence that has been occurring for some time. He tells his account of the shelling on the town, followed by groups of militia accompanied by officers in the Syrian army going from house to house, door to door, killing entire families.
The interview ends with these words from Oumar: We call upon the international community to take action. Your silence is basically a license to kill, handed over to the Assad regime. This regime is brutal and blood thirsty. It can’t be taken down except with outside military interference. Please, rescue us. We are being slaughtered. We’re being slaughtered.
Hearing this pulled on my heart. Especially after the horrific picture he had painted of his journey through the town to find body after body. Especially after he shared that most of those killed were women and children. The second time he said that phrase: We are being slaughtered, I choked up a bit. It was overwhelming. And I didn’t want to wait, I wanted to help him as soon as I could.
When injustice breaks our hearts, when it reached into us and tears us apart a bit, we are immediately called to action. And then, we must take a breath. We must take a moment of pause. Of honest reflection.
We’ve been asked for help. We’ve been told, by a reputable Syrian source, that the only solution is military interference. And, of course, the situation quickly became far more complicated as Russia stood with the Syrian government, (President Vladimir Putin of Russia is a major arms dealer for President Bashar al-Assad of Syria). The plot is indeed thick.
So how are we to know where to stand? When to stand? How to stand? In this and so many other tricky situations that face us each day. For there are as many opportunities to stand up for what we believe in and to stand with those in need of our support as there are moments in the day.
I start with my understanding of what it means to be an ally, a person of privilege engaged deeply in the struggle for more equity and justice in this world. Of what it means to work with others, rather than for them. To begin with the humility of knowing that I do not have all of the answers.That I may not even have many, for I know very little about a very complex situation.
So, I find that doing my homework is incredibly important. And still, after researching situations closely, I must remind myself that I cannot understand completely what it is like to be a part of another culture, to be immersed in another kind of world, so I must remain intellectually humble even if I learn so much that I could be considered an expert.
I have to give in to the vulnerability of working against some very deeply ingrained attitudes and behaviors, knowing that I will mess up along the way and that there will be consequences. I have to be willing to make amends when I make mistakes, to say I am sorry to those that I have hurt and to change my behaviors and learn to make different mistakes. I also question my motivations for action to begin with. Am I interested in saving someone? For if so, there is my privilege raging its ugly head and I should perhaps do some more reflection for I am not a savoir, nor is my country.
Or did my heart hurt in hearing the tale because I know that every horrible death, every injustice, tears apart the fabric of humanity and therefore, hurts me personally? Am I called to action because my faith calls me to help to repair the world for my own sake and for the sake of others?
I think deeply on the difference between charity and solidarity. For the former comes from my privilege rather than my commitment to the struggle. And solidarity is where real change can occur, in me and in our world. Through solidarity, I listen to the leadership of the oppressed rather than assuming that I know what they need or how to help them. Through solidarity, I learn how to stand differently in the world.
To stand in a way where I am not the center of the universe, which frankly is counter-cultural. It’s a stance that takes practice. That can be hard to practice. But that can be empowering. For in giving up a sense of control and power, we actually gain the power of the all those we stand in solidarity with.
We are no longer one against the world. We are a force to the reckoned with. Our voices become amplified. We are all those who stand with us in the struggle. We are all those who witness injustice and do not keep silent. We are strengthened by one another. We are not alone.
As people of faith, we are called to stand for equity and compassion. We are called to stand with those who ask for our help. We are called to answer the cries for justice that can heard all around this world, around this land, around this community.
But how we answer that call matters. Our stance in the world makes a difference.
I chose to stand humbly. I chose to stand with my body and my heart open to what I might encounter, knowing that this is a more vulnerable position but also a more transformative one. I chose to stand hand in hand with my siblings in creation on this earth. I chose to stand in the midst of the struggle for justice and peace. That is where my faith calls me to be. And how by heart calls me to stand.
Knowing what truths I know, like that we are all connected and that your pain affects me, how can I not stand with love for all of humanity? Knowing how many people hunger and how much violence and fear is rampant in this world, how can I not struggle to create a world for all beings? Knowing that it takes work to push against my own conditioning of consumerism arrogance and self-centeredness, how can I not engage in that work?
Won’t you join me? Won’t you take my hand and walk with me into the midst of the struggle? Where does your faith call you to be? Where will love guide you?
There are many who are asking for us to walk with them. A man in Syria has just asked us to stand with him. Organizations in Arizona, where Unitarian Universalists will gather this month, have asked us to stand with them. People throughout Tulsa are asking us to stand with them. Who will you stand with? And how will you stand?
There are many hands reaching for yours. Reach out. Take them.