Sermon given by Intern Minister Sophia Lyons, January 12, 2020.
In 2012, social scientist and author Brene Brown was asked to lead a TED talk. For those of you who don’t know what that is, TED talks began as a yearly conference back in 1984 devoted to spreading ideas - usually in the form of short, powerful talks. Today it’s a widespread, well-known public offering thanks to its online channel where anyone can access these incredible talks for free. In more than 100 languages no less.
To get an invitation to do a TED talk is a big deal and Brene Brown was a great pick. She had written several books and articles that were rooted in her meticulous research around how we humans tick–she’s fastidious about data and she’s relatable, funny, and deeply spiritual. She has a gift for bringing deep and wise truths forward–articulating them with both poetic beauty and grounded practicality. If you are only now hearing about Brene Brown go out and devour her work…and you’re welcome. You are in for a treat.
She is one of my key spiritual guides and companions. I am so grateful to what she has brought to the world, and to my life.
So Brene is asked to speak at the TED talk annual conference in 2012–to an audience of about 500. And she decided to take a risk. To do something she had never done before. She decided that she was going to center her talk around vulnerability. Now vulnerability was a huge part of her research and she had just written a book about vulnerability and courage. So she was versed in this. However what she hadn’t done before was to stand up in front of people and share her own struggle with vulnerability alongside her research about it. And while she knew that her talk would be made available online afterwards, she could have never imagined that this TED talk would go completely viral. For those of you who don’t speak World Wide Web, “going viral” means that a video or piece of information (maybe an article or essay) is watched or read by more than 5 million people in a 3-7 day period. OK. Brene’s talk, which I should tell you, was called “The Power of Vulnerability” hit 6 million views in that period of time and today–8 years later–has (as of Thursday when I last checked) 45,371,598 views.
And don’t you think that the title of the thing: “The Power of Vulnerability,” captures something that collectively we are starving for as a culture? 45 million views tells us something here I think.
So let me tell you about this talk. I can’t go through every piece of it–I hope you will go home and watch it for yourselves. But I will extract a few key pieces for you today. Brene Brown’s 6+ year research at this time asked this question: what is it that makes a person feel deep connection in their life, and what is it that makes a person feel utter disconnection in their life?
She interviewed hundreds of people, held countless focus groups, and when all was said and done had thousands of personal testimonies around this question of connection and disconnection to sift through. A ton of data. And this is what she found: what she found was that those who felt disconnected in their lives were the same people who felt they didn’t belong in some way. They didn’t belong. And Brene defined this sense of non-belonging as being undergirded by shame. Shame. What do we mean by shame? The feeling that there is something about me that makes me unworthy of connection. If others saw it or knew it they couldn’t possibly love me or want me. This is what I mean by shame. It’s the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are fundamentally flawed, that there is something wrong with us, and because of this we are unworthy of love and belonging. And Brene Brown found that folks who are bemired in this fear, in this shame, cut themselves off from being vulnerable with others in order to not be seen for what they fear they are. This is so important. We, and I say we, because my sense is that we have all at one time or another experienced what she describes, for many of us we grapple with this on a daily basis–we hold our most vulnerable Truths tucked away/compartmentalized in our deepest recesses convinced that if we let anyone see them or know them they will banish us.
And we do this why? Because, as human beings, we long for connection and belonging. We are literally hard-wired for it. And the paradox is this. And here’s what Brown’s research showed: that true connection, true belonging–and this piece came out of the grouping of people who felt deeply connected in their lives–had several things in common, one of which, resoundingly, was that they fully embraced vulnerability. They didn’t say they were comfortable in it–vulnerability is not easy–but they fully embraced it nonetheless. They were practiced at sharing their whole selves with others and, because of this, felt connected and belonging somewhere.
When Brene landed on this in her study, when she discovered that vulnerability was both the core of shame and fear and our struggle for worthiness AND (and these are her words) “the birthplace of joy, of creativity, of belonging, of love,” she had a personal breakdown. Because she came to know that she was terrified of being completely vulnerable. And this was a harsh and most grim truth to face. Anyone here ever been brought to this kind of unwelcome truth?
Just three years ago she coined, in part, the title of this sermon today: “Strong Back, Soft Front, Wild Heart,” as a glorious Holy trinity of sorts–paradoxical–but the bedrock of belonging and connection. Taking the armor off our fronts to reveal our vulnerabilities, trusting our strong backs will hold us up–and that they can’t exist without each other. Therein lies the great paradox. And the Wild Heart–that’s the I’m here and I’m whole just as I am part. It’s the brave part. Because make no mistake, this takes courage. As Brene says, “It’s tough and tender, brave and afraid, all at the same time. Grit and grace. A strong back, soft front and wild heart has the capacity to hold all of this.” Pretty good.
Truth: I have to consciously work, all the time, to keep my front soft, because I have a lot of devices deep in my bones that really want me to be armored all day–that this is strength. And the way this armor activates for me is by allowing fear to whisk me away. Fear of being a failure, of messing up, of losing my grip on things, of not knowing what to say or do, of letting people down, of not being what I think the world wants and needs…And this is where the feeling of disconnection sets in, and when I know I need to change course immediately–it’s when I hide all of this away, I don’t share it with anyone, because the corrosive thinking that undergirds it all tells me that there’s something wrong for feeling this way. Shame, fear of vulnerability, disconnection. And this can lead to some really scary things in us humans right? I am not proud of how I have, at times, chosen to contend with feelings of shame and disconnection. It has made me callous, judgmental, intolerant and vengeful. This is what shame and the fear of vulnerability can do to some of us. It’s can be a truly destructive power. It’s quite possibly one of the great threats to humankind. And we are seeing this play itself out in the world. Unchecked fear and disconnection can make us do crazy, crazy things. I have a feeling we will circle back to this next month when our monthly theme is Evil.
When we are connected we feel worthy of love and, by virtue of this, are able to love others; we belong to ourselves and so, we belong to each other; we are able to hold our vulnerabilities up as great and wondrous powers, and because of this we are able to be compassionate with others.
You know, I realize that it is not in all places nor with all people that we can, nor would it be appropriate, to lay it all out there. Of course not. Do you see that this is what this place is for? Chalice Circles, Third Wednesdays, the new Reflections group after service, candles of joys and sorrows, check ins to start our meetings, I could go on and on here. These are our places where we can be vulnerable with each other. It’s the reason so many of you feel you belong here. And I hope that for those of you who are taking the time you need to trust this spiritual community; I hope that you might bravely inch yourself towards this in the way that feels right to you. I really do.
As Mary Jean Irion writes, “…Most of all, perhaps, there is honesty in the starkness of a winter tree. Stripped of all pretense and embellishment, nothing is there but the tree’s own truth. Before the eyes of all it lives the way it is–nothing more.”
May you attempt to live your truth. To live the way you are. To find circles where you might lay down your armor, soften your front, believe in the strength of your back and set free the wild heart which beats in your chest right now. May you find your way to your vulnerable places and see that, indeed, they are your great power. They are our great power.
May it be so. Amen.