PATHS OF HOPE A Sermon Delivered by Kenneth W. Phifer, Delivered at First UU Congregation of Ann Arbor, March 27, 2005. The news is not good. Worldwide hunger is killing millions. Terrorists slaughter Iraqis and Americans almost at will. A tsunami took 150,000 lives a few months ago. The American government is complicit in torture. Fundamentalist fiction about the Rapture is the most popular literature in America. Ann Coulter, who thinks it would be "fun to nuke North Korea right now," is a best-seller. High school students think the First Amendment "goes too far in the guarantee of rights." Global warming, economic instability, unemployment, and an unjust health care system are grave threats to our well-being. The state of our political leadership is well demonstrated by the grandstanding in Washington last week in the matter of Terri Schiavo. The news is not good, and it would be easy to despair. Bill Moyers agrees that the news is bad, but he believes that bad news inspires us to fight for what we believe in. Fighting for the future we want is the antidote to despair. He observes that "what we need is...the capacity to see, to feel and then to act as if the future depended on...(us). Believe me, it does." Some believe that the future depends on a deity. Perhaps it does, but no Divine Plans have been given to us in a language we all understand. It seems more likely that if there is a God involved with humanity, that God operates as John Kennedy once put it by "helping those who help themselves." A physician who survived the Nazi Holocaust commented in 1946 that "We didn't see God when we expected Him, so we have no choice but to do what God was supposed to do: we will protect the weak, we will love, we will comfort. From now on, the responsibility is ours." If it is true that God or no God the responsibility is ours, then how are we to carry out that responsibility? How are we to face down the despair of our times? How are we to confront the hatred, the greed, the violence, the weakness, the stupidity, the momentum towards disaster of human society? With hope! Hope against power, wealth, and unscrupulousness? Yes, hope. As much as anything else, hope brought our nation into being, brought down the Iron Curtain, and enabled us to build this wonderful new building. Hope is the burning fire inside us that gives us the strength to carry on when all seems lost. Hope is the profound conviction that maybe not today or even tomorrow, but at some point in the future, things will come round right. Hope is the certainty that if we truly give ourselves to the cause of righteousness, not just the self-serving causes that make us feel good, that whatever happens, all will be well. Hope is the generator of all great changes, personal and social. Living in hope is essential if justice is to be won, if peace is to be effected, if we are to find a happiness wide enough for all human beings. What paths can we walk on that might help us to live in hope? One path is the path of thought. We have to think hope before we can do anything. We have to believe in the possibility that things can be better than they are, that oppression can be ended, that inequality can be corrected, that intolerance can be converted to acceptance before we can make these things real. One way to do this is by remembering some history. It can be helpful to reflect on various times of crisis when the worst was averted or people got through the worst. Think of those heroic passengers on United #93 who crashed their plane into a field to prevent a far worse disaster in Washington, D.C. Think of anyone who has gone through a major illness in the family, whatever the outcome, with bonds of love strengthened and ties of affection stronger than they have ever been. Remember changes for the good. Ben Stein remembers his father telling him when he was 13-the year was 1958-- that auto companies and advertising companies and banking were essentially closed to Jews, so he had best choose a career in some other field. Not just Jews, of course, but African Americans, Hispanics, Asians, and women were also denied any but the most menial or token of places in the American business world, and many other worlds as well. Today, women head huge corporations. So do Blacks and Jews. Hispanics are a rising force in the media and the law, while Asians lead the way in technology. Most jobs are open to most people. Remembering such changes can give strength to our own thoughts of hope. Another part of thinking hope is to remember that the deepest values of humanity really are very much alike: respect others, be responsible for your self, be kind and helpful, do not hurt others, share, and similar values. The most awful deeds hide behind a mask of moral purity. Surely this is because we all know the difference between right and wrong and we all want to do the right, or at least appear to do the right. While a few government officials have attempted to justify torture, most, from the president on down the chain of authority, have expressed their opposition to it even as they denied any responsibility for it. Perhaps they are lying, but their lies still point to the moral way to behave. The ethical standards are there: there are certain things it is wrong to do to other human beings. I agree with Kant that there is deeply embedded in the fabric of our humanity an ethical sense, a conscience if you will, that helps us to see that some acts are wicked and some are good, even if we cannot always speak the truth of what we know. That we have a common human moral ground is cause for hope. We acted too late to save very many, but we all knew that the genocide in Rwanda was wrong. The same knowledge applies to Bosnia and the so-called "collateral damage" in Iraq and Afghanistan, the Israeli destruction of the homes of suspected terrorists and the Palestinian suicide bombers, yes, and even the mean-spirited Proposition 2 in this state and the actions of those who seek now to expand its meaning to deny benefits to same sex couples and heterosexual couples not legally married. Knowing these things are wrong, we can begin to repent of that which we cannot change and vow such things will not happen again, and change those things which can be changed. Human possibility for reversing or correcting wrong is endless. Howard Zinn is right: "Human beings, whatever their backgrounds, are more open than we think...their behaviour cannot be confidently predicted from their past...we are all creatures vulnerable to new thoughts, new attitudes...no human being should be written off, no change in thinking deemed impossible." One final aspect of the path of thought as a way to help us build hope is that of making it a habit to take note of things that are beautiful and good. Celebrate a child's first steps, first words, first drawings. Notice how good-looking your partner is and what pleasure the very sight of that person gives you. Rejoice when you hear some special piece of music on the radio: Fats Waller singing "All that meat and no potatoes," the third movement of Beethoven's First Piano Concerto, Pete Seeger doing "Last night I had the strangest dream," or whatever music stirs your soul. Rejoice, sing along, tap your foot, smile, dance if you can, get with it! Let beauty flood your very being and take heart from the fact that we live in such a world. e.e.cummings captures the spirit of finding and embracing hope in life itself in these words: "O sweet spontaneous earth how often have the doting fingers of prurient philosophers pinched and poked thee ,has the naughty thumb of science prodded thy beauty, how often have religions taken thee upon their scraggy knees squeezing and buffeting thee that thou mightiest conceive gods (but true to the incomparable couch of death thy rhythmic lover thou answerest them only with spring) Spring with its warmth and beauty stirs hope in us. So can recalling the human standards of right and wrong and remembering changes for the good and times when people have acted heroically and wisely. Hope begins with thought. A second path of hope is the path of words. We must not only think hope, we must speak it. Words are the primary means by which we communicate. Words can lift our spirits or to crush us. Words can hold off involvement or engage us deeply. Words can lead us into despair or into hope. The dispiriting possibilities of words are well illustrated by the current state of political rhetoric. Political talk today is not only harshly partisan. It is full of contempt, malice, and disrespect. It is lacking in civility, reasonableness, and respect. Lying, disingenuousness, browbeating, self-serving proclamations, and false piety characterize too much of political speech in our nation's capitol. Such talk crushes hope. Too many politicians-too many people-have forgotten the wisdom of Rabbi Irving Greenberg: "No statement, theological or otherwise, should be made that would not be credible in the presence of burning children." We forget all too easily the burning children, the starving children, the children abused and neglected, the children brought up to hate and discriminate, the children thrust too early into war. When we do remember the children, our children, all children, and live so that they can live and thrive, our words will be-we cannot help it!-- full of hope. To be buoyed up in our search for hope, let us look to those who speak words of hope and model our speech on theirs. Naomi Shihab Nye, a Palestinian American writer, spoke a few weeks ago in Chelsea. She said, among other things, that we should "use words forever instead of violence. Violence is a betrayal of language. It says we can't talk about this anymore." She would like to see the young people of the Middle East start to use words not guns. "This will begin when the Jews and Arabs can get together and acknowledge the mistakes of the past, share humility, grief, and sorrow. It doesn't solve the problem, but it shines a light on it to think further, deeper, differently." That is what the Children of Abraham Project is all about. These youngsters were brought together through the efforts of a Jewish woman, an Islamic imam, and several organizations devoted to interfaith work. They have designed a play using the theme of Abraham as a common father to all three of the western religions. Here is what the reviewer for the Ann Arbor Observer wrote seeing the play performed last December at the Residential College. "An American Jewish girl talks longingly about Israel as her homeland. A young Muslim man remembers a day in Beirut when the screaming of Israeli jets shattered windows around him. A young Christian man talks about his faith and his family. A Muslim girl in a head scarf stands alone in a light, singing a song so intricate and exquisite it seems almost impossible. The through line, that 'peace begins with conversation,' allows the players and the audience to feel the discomfort that such conversations might elicit. The Children of Abraham lay it on the table for all to see." The discussion that follows the play is intense but honest, a step in the direction of understanding that can someday bloom into peacefulness. The reviewer noted with delight that the actors for the most part did not "play" their own religion, another way in which words can help us to understand others and bring hope to conflicted situations, speak the truth of the other's view. There are many such projects. The Parents Circle, a group of Palestinian and Israeli parents who have lost children to violence from the other side is one. The National Coalition for Dialogue and Deliberation is another, and so is Let's Talk America. One of the most moving organizations is a new group-it just held its second annual conference-called the International Congress On Victims of Terrorism. Their goal is to convey a message around the world, to terrorists and to those who support them and to governments that perpetrate terror, and to people everywhere: you killed my beloved. They want to put a face on statistics, a name, a personality, a life. They want people to see the human face of terrorist acts. They do not seek revenge, but an end to terrorism. One participant spoke the value of this group in these words: "There is a bond between us that is beyond politics." And, we trust, beyond religion and ethnicity and gender and orientation and all the other foolish ways we use to divide ourselves up so we can be number one or triumph over others or feel that we are somehow better. Isn't this where we want the world to go? To a place and a time where the sacred and inherent worth of every human being is honored? Words are precious. They should not be casually spoken. They should be words we can speak credibly "in the presence of burning children." If spoken well, words can bring us hope. Doing things. This is a third path of hope. Despite so many instances of devilment and egotism, every day is full as well of acts of kindness and generosity, acts of selflessness and sharing. When we read or hear of such good deeds, and even more when we join in being part of one of them, the world moves a notch more in the direction of hope. Here are some important bringers of hope because of what they do. I begin with this congregation. I am always renewed in hope when I see how many UU's attend peace rallies, help to feed the hungry, work to make the homeless more comfortable in their shelters, and do the myriad other tasks that move society towards justice and give aid to those in need. Not without reason is this congregation known as the most socially conscious and active congregation in Washtenaw County. Some months ago I read an article by Nicholas Kristof about the several million children a year who die from preventable malaria. Kristof wrote that we spend four times as much money on soda pop in this country as we do on trying to save those children. I wrote for the names of organizations that help to stop the spread of malaria. I received several web sites with the names of groups. Most of them pass on every dollar sent to them to purchase mosquito nets and other equipment needed to fight malaria. Those who work for them donate their time. The websites are posted on the bulletin board and will be in this coming week's newsletter. Gary Haugen is an attorney who left the Department of Justice to found International Justice Mission. His work involves ending sexual slavery, bonded labor, and child prostitution. He has worked in Asia and Africa to protect widows and orphaned children, victims of police brutality, and those enslaved by moneylenders. Haugen speaks of taking up this work because God is "eager for the work of justice to go forth. And God does...(this) work by creating us to do it...I am ...called upon to be faithful for what good I can do." That vision of our purpose in life, and the actions that flow from it, is full of hope! Laura Dunham was in Sri Lanka last December when the tsunami hit. It utterly devastated the village she was in, but people somehow banded together to go to higher ground and many were spared, but, she writes, "grief was everywhere...(and destruction). How could any of us get through the next minutes, hours, days, or years? "Together. That is how. We survived the trauma of this disaster because we had the generosity and hospitality of the Sri Lankans. Every family in the village took in tourists for the three days we had to wait before we were evacuated. They shared their meager belongings, their limited food, and their precious water. They, who had nothing and had lost much, gave everything. "Forty of us slept on mats outside the home of a family who came around at regular intervals with sugary tea, bananas, and coconuts. They cooked us dinner...They let us drink water out of their well. They slept beside us to protect us from possible looters...(They) never stopped looking out for us." The headline on the article by Dunham tells the story: "Amid the Ruin and Sorrow on Sri Lanka, The Reservoir of Kindness Remains." The reservoir of human kindness is a source of great hope. In every disaster brought on by nature or human folly, that reservoir opens up to spill out over those endangered or damaged. I have just finished reading 102 MINUTES: THE UNTOLD STORY OF THE FIGHT TO SURVIVE INSIDE THE TWIN TOWERS. It is a story of human pride and competitiveness, of stupidity and sheer bad luck. Above all, though, it is a tale of people faced with death and destruction who mostly handled themselves with courage and cooperation. Often not knowing what had happened-those trapped in elevators, for example, and fire fighters who lost communication with their chiefs-almost everybody acted with bravery and dignity. An asthmatic was carried down nearly 70 floors. A quadriplegic unable to maneuver down the stairs had the companionship of a friend till the towers collapsed. A police officer who had just turned in his badge when word came of the attack took it back and raced to the scene to help. Several people who had made it to the ground floor returned to higher levels to assist friends who had not made it out. The stories are countless of human beings, under grave threat, acting in the most decent and kind ways possible. Every story of that kind reminds us of the nobler side of the human spirit. Such stories give us inspiration to do the same in the far less threatening circumstances in which we mostly find ourselves. These stories of ordinary deeds by ordinary people breathe hope. Hope is incarnated in deeds. In a world filled with bad news, there is also hope. Some of that hope can be found in things that we do. Some is found in words that we speak and write. Some is found in our thoughts. Because of physical limitations or unusual responsibilities, not everybody can take action. But most of us can use words in ways that spread hope. Not everybody is able to verbalize hope, but we are all able to think thoughts of hope and look for positive signs and convey by our very being a sense of hope. If Bill Moyers is right, that the future does depend on us, then what better way to secure that future than to think and to speak and to act, to live in hope. BIBLIOGRAPHY 1. John W. DeGruchy, RECONCILIATION: RESTORING JUSTICE, Fortress press, 2002. 2. Jim Dwyer and Kevin Flynn, 102 MINUTES: THE BUNTOLD STORY OF THE FIGHT TO SURVIVE INSIDE THE TWIN TOWERS, Times Books, 2005. 3. Mary Oliver, OWLS AND OTHERS FANTASIES: POEMS AND ESSAYS, Beacon Press, 2003. 4. Howard Zinn, YOU CAN'T BE BEUTRAL ON A MOVING TRAIN: A PERSONAL HISTORY OF OUR TIMES, Beacon Press, 2002. Copyright 2005, Kenneth W. Phifer, All Rights Reserved