Healing Our Community
Preached 11/15/2020 at SouthWest UU in N. Royalton OH
By Rev. Meg Mathieson
In 1935, Langston Hughes wrote the poem “Let America be America Again.” That phrase sounds familiar, doesn’t it” Let America be America Again, kinda sounds similar to Make America Great Again…
Mr. Hughes, the great writer of the Harlem Renaissance, was almost 100 years ago responding to that same sentiment, the idea that there once was a “great” America, that we should be trying to return to.
Mr. Hughes said, Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.
And then in parenthesis,
(America never was America to me.)
The poem goes on in that vein, alternately declaring the grandeur of America and how it can be attained, and then a quiet parenthetical answer. For instance, at one point the poem boldly claims “Equality is in the air we breathe.” and then answers itself...
There's never been equality for me.
It sounds like the two sides of our political system. One side espousing how grand a nation this once was and how it is our duty to make it great again, and the other side whimpering, or at times shouting, America was never America to me.
I and many of my colleagues have been struggling with criticism around making church too political. And I just want to state my intention is to minister. My job and my hope is to find you where you are on your spiritual path and kneel down with you and sit with you and be with you while you find your way, whatever that way may be.
But I think we have, as a country, gotten a little off track with our definition of what politics are, and our understanding of where politics should live in a healthy worldview. Back in February, Shankar Vedantam of NPR interviewed Harvard professor of Political Science Etan Hersh who said that “We live in a 24/7 cycle of political news that saturates every corner of our culture. It seems like this has led to increased engagement in politics, but engagement with politics for many of us has actually become more shallow. “
This shallow engagement shows up in what Hersh calls “political hobbyism.” We are following politics these days like we follow sports. Rooting for our team, showing disdain or even hate for the “other team.” This is fine for hobbies, for sports, but not healthy for politics, which is not meant to be an armchair, a passive activity that we just watch.
The title of the article on NPR where this interview takes place is “How to Actually Make a Difference” and I think that gets to the heart of what we are missing with political hobbyism. This is not about my team winning or your team losing.
This is about the universal oneness of humanity and how we can best support each other in a time when a quarter of a million American citizens have died from COVID. This is a country in mourning, with no end currently in sight. That’s not political, that’s national. It’s universal. It’s human. How do we cope with the pain, the trauma, the despair?
Professor Hersh says, “What do we think of our partisan opponents? We hate them. Do we really hate them? No, but politics is more fun if we root for a team and spew anger at the other side. It's easier to hate and dismiss the other side than to empathize and connect to them.”
So I’ll tell you today what the folks who make money off of the spectacle don’t want you to hear. What the TV executives and the owners of twitter don’t want you to believe: There isn’t another side.
There isn’t an us and a them. It’s all lies to sell advertising space, it’s all meant to get us upset and riled up.
There is one human family that right now feels very divided and frustrated and painful. And yay our team won and haha the other team is a munch of sore losers - is not a helpful or kind attitude to have. As Professor Hersh says, I’ll repeat it again: “It's easier to hate and dismiss the other side than to empathize and connect to them.”
Empathize. Connect.
These are hard things to do. Especially towards someone who you feel has hurt or wronged you. This is what I believe Jesus of Nazareth meant by “turn the other cheek.” You should NEVER allow an abuser to hurt you in the name of pacifism, but it is possible to show kindness and love, to empathize and connect with those with whom you disagree deeply.
7th principle - mysterious interconnected web of which we are a part.
I am reminded of a beautiful Sikh prayer which was written on the eve of the last election, four years ago:
A SIKH PRAYER FOR AMERICA ON NOV 9, 2016
Waheguru Ji Ka Khalsa Waheguru Ji Ki Fateh
In our tears and agony, we hold our children close and confront the truth: The future is dark.
But my faith dares me to ask:
What if this darkness is not the darkness of the tomb, but the darkness of the womb?
What if our America is not dead but a country still waiting to be born? What if the story of America is one long labor?
What if all the mothers who came before us, who survived genocide and occupation, slavery and Jim Crow, racism and xenophobia and Islamophobia, political oppression and sexual assault, are standing behind us now, whispering in our ear: You are brave? What if this is our Great Contraction before we birth a new future?
Remember the wisdom of the midwife: “Breathe,” she says. Then: “Push.”
Now it is time to breathe. But soon it will be time to push; soon it will be time to fight — for those we love — Muslim father, Sikh son, trans daughter, indigenous brother, immigrant sister, white worker, the poor and forgotten, and the ones who cast their vote out of resentment and fear.
Let us make an oath to fight for the soul of America — “The land that never has been yet— And yet must be” (Langston Hughes) — with Revolutionary Love and relentless optimism.
May we all heal, and may we heal through the knowledge that we are one human family. How to actually make a difference? Connect. Listen. Care. It’s painful and it’s difficult but we must at this time in history more than ever, have our ears open to the pain of our neighbors. We must express compassion. We must not allow our differences to tear us apart.
Going back to Mr. Langston Hughes, our poet from a hundred years ago ended his poem with a dazzling hope, after naming all of the many groups of people who are disenfranchised by the failure of the American dream, he then goes on to promise to be part of the solution:
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath--
America will be!
Can I find some common ground with my neighbor who flies a red flag with the words “Make America Great” on it? Can I connect? Can I empathize?
I need to try.
This month I have been ending our services with a Benediction written by UU minister Kimberly Quinn Johnson which quotes Alice Walker’s wonderful statement that “We are the ones we have been waiting for.” I’ll end this sermon with another take on that phrase by another UU minister, Rev. Qiyamah Rahman titled, It is that time and that place.
Now is the time to call on the memories of the ancestors who thought they could not walk another step toward freedom—and yet they did.
It is that time and place to call on the memories of the ancestors who, when the darkness of their lives threatened to take away the hope and light, reached a little deeper and prayed yet another prayer.
It is that time and place to remember those who came through the long night to witness another sunrise.
It is that time and place to remember the oceans of tears shed to deliver us to this time, to remember the bent knees and bowed backs, to remember the fervent voices asking, begging and beseeching for loved ones sold off.
Time to remember their laughter and joy, though they had far less, and little reason for optimism, yet they stayed on the path toward a better day.
Time to hold to the steadfast hands and hearts and prayers of the ancestors that have brought us this far.
Time to make them proud and show them, and ourselves, what we are made of.
Time to show them that their prayers and sacrifices and lives were not in vain and did not go unnoticed, nor have they been forgotten.
Did you not know that this day would come?
Did you not know that we would have to change places?
Did you not know that just as our ancestors were delivered that you would also be delivered?
Have you not seen the greatness and power of the Creative Energy in the Universe called God that moves and has its being through human agency?
Have you not seen God in your neighbors’ faces? In the homeless? In the battered woman? The trafficked child? The undocumented worker? The dispossessed? It is that time and that place to know that it is our turn, that we must leave a legacy for our children. And all the children.
It is that time and that place.
We are the ones we’ve been waiting for!
For that, let us be eternally grateful.
Amen and Blessed Be.
Preached 11/15/2020 at SouthWest UU in N. Royalton OH
By Rev. Meg Mathieson
In 1935, Langston Hughes wrote the poem “Let America be America Again.” That phrase sounds familiar, doesn’t it” Let America be America Again, kinda sounds similar to Make America Great Again…
Mr. Hughes, the great writer of the Harlem Renaissance, was almost 100 years ago responding to that same sentiment, the idea that there once was a “great” America, that we should be trying to return to.
Mr. Hughes said, Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.
And then in parenthesis,
(America never was America to me.)
The poem goes on in that vein, alternately declaring the grandeur of America and how it can be attained, and then a quiet parenthetical answer. For instance, at one point the poem boldly claims “Equality is in the air we breathe.” and then answers itself...
There's never been equality for me.
It sounds like the two sides of our political system. One side espousing how grand a nation this once was and how it is our duty to make it great again, and the other side whimpering, or at times shouting, America was never America to me.
I and many of my colleagues have been struggling with criticism around making church too political. And I just want to state my intention is to minister. My job and my hope is to find you where you are on your spiritual path and kneel down with you and sit with you and be with you while you find your way, whatever that way may be.
But I think we have, as a country, gotten a little off track with our definition of what politics are, and our understanding of where politics should live in a healthy worldview. Back in February, Shankar Vedantam of NPR interviewed Harvard professor of Political Science Etan Hersh who said that “We live in a 24/7 cycle of political news that saturates every corner of our culture. It seems like this has led to increased engagement in politics, but engagement with politics for many of us has actually become more shallow. “
This shallow engagement shows up in what Hersh calls “political hobbyism.” We are following politics these days like we follow sports. Rooting for our team, showing disdain or even hate for the “other team.” This is fine for hobbies, for sports, but not healthy for politics, which is not meant to be an armchair, a passive activity that we just watch.
The title of the article on NPR where this interview takes place is “How to Actually Make a Difference” and I think that gets to the heart of what we are missing with political hobbyism. This is not about my team winning or your team losing.
This is about the universal oneness of humanity and how we can best support each other in a time when a quarter of a million American citizens have died from COVID. This is a country in mourning, with no end currently in sight. That’s not political, that’s national. It’s universal. It’s human. How do we cope with the pain, the trauma, the despair?
Professor Hersh says, “What do we think of our partisan opponents? We hate them. Do we really hate them? No, but politics is more fun if we root for a team and spew anger at the other side. It's easier to hate and dismiss the other side than to empathize and connect to them.”
So I’ll tell you today what the folks who make money off of the spectacle don’t want you to hear. What the TV executives and the owners of twitter don’t want you to believe: There isn’t another side.
There isn’t an us and a them. It’s all lies to sell advertising space, it’s all meant to get us upset and riled up.
There is one human family that right now feels very divided and frustrated and painful. And yay our team won and haha the other team is a munch of sore losers - is not a helpful or kind attitude to have. As Professor Hersh says, I’ll repeat it again: “It's easier to hate and dismiss the other side than to empathize and connect to them.”
Empathize. Connect.
These are hard things to do. Especially towards someone who you feel has hurt or wronged you. This is what I believe Jesus of Nazareth meant by “turn the other cheek.” You should NEVER allow an abuser to hurt you in the name of pacifism, but it is possible to show kindness and love, to empathize and connect with those with whom you disagree deeply.
7th principle - mysterious interconnected web of which we are a part.
I am reminded of a beautiful Sikh prayer which was written on the eve of the last election, four years ago:
A SIKH PRAYER FOR AMERICA ON NOV 9, 2016
Waheguru Ji Ka Khalsa Waheguru Ji Ki Fateh
In our tears and agony, we hold our children close and confront the truth: The future is dark.
But my faith dares me to ask:
What if this darkness is not the darkness of the tomb, but the darkness of the womb?
What if our America is not dead but a country still waiting to be born? What if the story of America is one long labor?
What if all the mothers who came before us, who survived genocide and occupation, slavery and Jim Crow, racism and xenophobia and Islamophobia, political oppression and sexual assault, are standing behind us now, whispering in our ear: You are brave? What if this is our Great Contraction before we birth a new future?
Remember the wisdom of the midwife: “Breathe,” she says. Then: “Push.”
Now it is time to breathe. But soon it will be time to push; soon it will be time to fight — for those we love — Muslim father, Sikh son, trans daughter, indigenous brother, immigrant sister, white worker, the poor and forgotten, and the ones who cast their vote out of resentment and fear.
Let us make an oath to fight for the soul of America — “The land that never has been yet— And yet must be” (Langston Hughes) — with Revolutionary Love and relentless optimism.
May we all heal, and may we heal through the knowledge that we are one human family. How to actually make a difference? Connect. Listen. Care. It’s painful and it’s difficult but we must at this time in history more than ever, have our ears open to the pain of our neighbors. We must express compassion. We must not allow our differences to tear us apart.
Going back to Mr. Langston Hughes, our poet from a hundred years ago ended his poem with a dazzling hope, after naming all of the many groups of people who are disenfranchised by the failure of the American dream, he then goes on to promise to be part of the solution:
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath--
America will be!
Can I find some common ground with my neighbor who flies a red flag with the words “Make America Great” on it? Can I connect? Can I empathize?
I need to try.
This month I have been ending our services with a Benediction written by UU minister Kimberly Quinn Johnson which quotes Alice Walker’s wonderful statement that “We are the ones we have been waiting for.” I’ll end this sermon with another take on that phrase by another UU minister, Rev. Qiyamah Rahman titled, It is that time and that place.
Now is the time to call on the memories of the ancestors who thought they could not walk another step toward freedom—and yet they did.
It is that time and place to call on the memories of the ancestors who, when the darkness of their lives threatened to take away the hope and light, reached a little deeper and prayed yet another prayer.
It is that time and place to remember those who came through the long night to witness another sunrise.
It is that time and place to remember the oceans of tears shed to deliver us to this time, to remember the bent knees and bowed backs, to remember the fervent voices asking, begging and beseeching for loved ones sold off.
Time to remember their laughter and joy, though they had far less, and little reason for optimism, yet they stayed on the path toward a better day.
Time to hold to the steadfast hands and hearts and prayers of the ancestors that have brought us this far.
Time to make them proud and show them, and ourselves, what we are made of.
Time to show them that their prayers and sacrifices and lives were not in vain and did not go unnoticed, nor have they been forgotten.
Did you not know that this day would come?
Did you not know that we would have to change places?
Did you not know that just as our ancestors were delivered that you would also be delivered?
Have you not seen the greatness and power of the Creative Energy in the Universe called God that moves and has its being through human agency?
Have you not seen God in your neighbors’ faces? In the homeless? In the battered woman? The trafficked child? The undocumented worker? The dispossessed? It is that time and that place to know that it is our turn, that we must leave a legacy for our children. And all the children.
It is that time and that place.
We are the ones we’ve been waiting for!
For that, let us be eternally grateful.
Amen and Blessed Be.