Sermon given by Rev. Frank Clarkson, June 30, 2024.
We used to have a neighbor named Charlie, who was in his 80’s when we moved there, and over time he became like a surrogate grandfather for our children. He was a hardworking Yankee and great person to have next door. One summer he helped me rebuild our front porch. He loved to putter around his house and yard. One of his sayings was, “If the sun’s out, so am I.” One year, around this time, I wondered aloud to him why the yard was so dry. It had been raining now and then, but things seemed parched. “Well, think about it,” Charlie said. “The days are so long right now; the sun is shining down all day, and it dries things out. Especially where there’s no shade.” It was simple, what Charlie said. I just had never noticed it.
I wonder—how much attention do you give to your soul, to your spiritual life, to your own wellbeing? Most of us are pretty good at being aware of our basic needs—whether you’re hungry or thirsty, hot or cold, tired or stressed. Not that complicated to figure out, right? But the state of your spirit is a more subtle thing; a different, more elusive kind of sensation. It can be easy to miss, or even forget about, given the other things you’re paying attention to. I hope that being here in church, or here on Zoom, is a reminder that your spiritual wellbeing matters; I hope that coming here feels like a gym for your soul.
And so I ask you, in these days, how is it with your spirit? Are you feeling well-watered? Or are you thirsty, even parched? Sometimes I think we’re not that different from plants. We lean towards the light—the light of the sun, and the light of the Spirit. Which is why we go to the beach, and why we light candles. We need the light, we feel good in its presence, and it’s good for us.
And like plants, we need to be rooted, grounded, well watered, if we are going to thrive. Plants with shallow roots are quick to dry out, and trees with shallow roots can blow over in a storm. And so I ask you: are you grounded in ways and practices that nourish and sustain you in your daily life? If not, then I worry, what will happen when hard times come?
Some of us grew up in traditions that taught that belief or faith was what sustains us. That said, if you believe the right things, then you’ll be ok. But in my experience, it’s not so much been belief but practices which have fed and nourished my life. Church on Sunday. Gathering around the kitchen table for meals. Holding hands and saying grace before we eat. Prayer and silence every morning. Except when I get up early to go fishing; which is its own kind of prayer and silence, isn’t it? If anything, my beliefs and my faith have come from my practices and what I’ve learned from companions on the way.
Keeping sabbath is such a practice. As is writing, and doing what you love, and simply noticing. What nourishes and sustains your soul?
I ask because it’s so easy to become parched and dry, especially when you’re stretched and stressed and busy and distracted by all the things. What I’m suggesting to you is simple, but that doesn’t make it easy. Though, like many things, it does get easier and better with practice.
In this month when we’ve been reflecting on perspective, I’m aware of just how much our outlook, our attitude, our perspective matters. Our thoughts can save us, and they can lead us astray. It certainly helps to have companions; whether in person soul friends or those whose wisdom we get from their books, essays, podcasts. Anne Lamott says her mind is like a bad neighborhood, “that I try to not go into alone.”
350 years ago, John Milton observed, “The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of Hell, a hell of Heaven.” What power we have, to shape our understandings and attitudes and viewpoints! And how vulnerable we are, to the mysteries and powers of the mind. How complicated we humans are, and how complex these times we are living in!
So what are we to do?
Here’s one answer, from an ancient source, the Book of Psalms; offered here in a contemporary version, from the UU minister Christine Robinson. This is Psalm 1:
Happy are they who know good and do good.
Their love for the good feeds them continually.
They are like trees planted near the river,
whose roots go deep and wide.
They thrive, bear fruit in season, and
weather drought without wilting.
Those who are not so grounded
will blow around like dry leaves in the wind.
Root yourself in Good, and live.
In other words, know the difference between healthy and unhealthy practices, between spiritual nourishment and spiritual junk food. Put yourself in places and in states of mind where you are in touch with springs of living water. Strive to do good, choose your companions wisely, and you will be like a tree planted by the water. If something or someone is making you more anxious or fearful that you need to be, try taking a break from that which is not helpful. Instead, seek out what is life giving and soul satisfying.
Most of all, please try to trust, especially when you’re tired or discouraged, that there are sources of life and love and goodness that are available to you, that you can access. Please trust that you are worthy of such gifts and goodness. You hear this in Denise Levertov’s poem, “The Fountain,” which is invitation and a testament to faith. Let’s hear it again:
Don’t say, don’t say there is no water
to solace the dryness at our hearts.
I have seen
the fountain springing out of the rock wall
and you drinking there. And I too
before your eyes
found footholds and climbed
to drink the cool water.
The woman of that place, shading her eyes,
frowned as she watched—but not because
she grudged the water,
only because she was waiting
to see we drank our fill and were
refreshed.
Don’t say, don’t say there is no water.
The fountain is there among its scalloped
grey and green stones,
it is still there and always there
with its quiet song and strange power
to spring in us,
up and out through the rock.
Dear spiritual companions, could it be that your calling in these summer days is simply to drink in these holy waters, and be refreshed? To put yourself in touch with that which is healing and sustaining. And then, to help others find their way to that living water?
The Grateful Dead sang a song about this, called “Ripple.” (Some of you will remember the tune-- da da-da da da...) It goes..;
Reach out your hand if your cup be empty,
If your cup is full may it be again,
Let it be known there is a fountain,
That was not made by the hands of men.
There is a fountain, that we didn’t make or do anything to earn. There is a source of solace and strength. It’s freely given, this water, this blessing, this presence. It’s available to all of us, if we desire it and will seek it. We need it, don’t we?
In these summer days, let us be open to its gift, so we can receive its blessings.
Don't say, don't say there is no water
to solace the dryness at our hearts…
That fountain is there...
it is still there and always there
with its quiet song and strange power to spring in us,
up and out through the rock.
Now and forever,
Amen.