Big Question 1:
Why Are We Here?”

Rev. Michael A. McGee

Unitarian Universalist Church of Arlington
Sunday, September 28, 2001

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Welcome to the first of the Big Questions Sermon Series. Rev. Joan Gelbein and I will be speaking on one of the Big Questions one Sunday each month for the next eight months. But I warn you: we will not give you the Big Answers to the Big Questions -- though we will certainly have some Big Suggestions.

This will be an opportunity for the entire congregation, young and old, to have a conversation about those questions which are most meaningful in our lives. Almost 100 people have already signed up for Covenant Groups which will meet monthly to discuss the big questions and to get to know each other better. And the children will explore the same questions in their chapel services.

There will also be intergenerational covenant groups so that children and adults can discuss these issues together. Other groups in the church, such as the Buddhists, the humanists, and the labyrinth group will also be talking about the Big Questions. And we hope you will take these discussions to your family, friends, and work place.

There is a New Yorker cartoon in which a woman reassures her husband by saying, "Don't worry, Howard. The big questions are multiple choice." Unfortunately, she's wrong. The big questions are not multiple choice. They require a life-time of struggle, of growth, and of joy.

It seems that human beings are hardwired to ask the Big Questions and seek out answers that provide us meaning. It's not that we want to know. We have to know.


And lately the Big Questions have gotten a lot bigger. There have been many changes since September 11th, especially in the way we view the purpose of our lives. We have all cried out many unanswerable questions since that date, such as: How could such a thing have happened? How can anyone be so evil? What can we do to keep such horror from ever happening again?

Those are all Big Questions that we will be dealing with this year. But let me ask you a simpler question: how has your life changed since that day?

If you are like me, the superficial parts of your life have faded to the background while that which is the most meaningful and purposeful has moved to the center. No longer do we care about what programs are on television or what the weather will do or what movies are at the theater. Most of us refrain from whining about the little daily annoyances. Even the huge drop in the stock market doesn't seem as critical as it would have a few weeks ago. Now what is clearly vital to us are family and friends, the fate of our nation and our world, and the meaning of life.

In actuality, this process of examining the meaning in our lives goes forward whenever we experience a crisis, whether it's the loss of a loved one or a life-threatening disease or injury, or some other significant loss. One of the ironies of human existence is that tragedy is an opportunity to examine life's meaning and to recommit ourselves to living with purpose.

We have that opportunity now. The loss of over 6,000 human beings has been devastating. The healing has begun, but grieving will continue for a long time. And we need to allow ourselves to grieve. It is natural. Grief is a vital part of our spiritual lives.

And there can be no better time to ask the question, "Why are we here?" and to struggle for an answer.


When I ask that question I feel like Calvin in an old "Calvin and Hobbes" cartoon when he found a dead bird on the ground. He says, "Look, a dead bird!... Isn't it beautiful? It's so delicate.... Once it's too late, you appreciate what a miracle life is. You realize that nature is ruthless and our existence is very fragile, temporary, and precious. But to go on with your daily affairs, you can't really think about that. ...which is probably why everyone takes the world for granted and why we act so thoughtlessly. It's very confusing. I suppose it will all make sense when we grow up." "No doubt," says his tiger friend, Hobbes.

So, does it all make sense to you yet? I'm afraid it doesn't make sense to me. But Calvin helps me to realize that it doesn't have to make sense. Wouldn't life be boring if it all made sense?

As human beings, we are challenged to struggle with the absurdities, ironies, and contradictions of this irrational life and then ? instead of making sense out of it ? to make meaning out of it.

Like Calvin, I have found meaning in nature. When I was a boy I would spend as much time as possible in forest and fields, in rivers and streams. It was in observing the life and death of the natural world that the meaning of my life was shaped. And it is nature that helps me to answer the question, "Why am I here?"

First of all, nature continually reminds me that we are all seekers. When I look around I see that all of life is seeking to learn and grow and to become more than it is.

While watching the excellent PBS series on evolution this past week, I was inspired by the incredible urge, the indomitable power within life to evolve, to fulfill its purpose. From a seedling to an amoeba to human beings, every living thing must become what it is meant to be.


As human beings our evolutionary powers have helped us to survive and thrive on this planet, but for some reason survival is not enough. We have an insatiable need to stretch our minds, hearts and spirits like sails on the sea in search of some greater purpose, a deeper meaning, and a sustaining truth.

Daniel Boorstin, in his marvelous book called The Seekers, writes "...we are all Seekers. We all want to know why. Man is the asking animal. And while ... the belief that we have found the Answer can separate us and make us forget our humanity, it is the seeking that continues to bring us together, that makes us and keeps us human."

Boorstin is correct. We are seekers. And the wind that blows those sails of seeking is our curiosity and imagination. As human beings, we ask questions as naturally as we breathe, and we seek answers just as naturally.

The German poet, Rainer Rilke, once advised a younger poet to cherish his deepest questions. He suggested that he:

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart...
Try to love the questions themselves
like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue.
Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them.
And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now.
Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.

I agree that truth and meaning is found only when we love and live the questions, only when the answers become less important than the quest itself. As Mary Oliver writes, "One question leads to another." But too many people try to take short-cuts, believing they can avoid the struggle. They treat truth and meaning as a commodity to be bought and sold but not to be lived.


We do need answers, but only those that come from struggling with the Big Questions. Questions themselves are not enough to get us through the long night of loss and mourning. We need to find the north star of our spirit to guide us home. We need to know why we are here.

Victor Frankl was forced to search for the meaning of life when he was thrown into a Nazi concentration camp during World War II. In his classic book, Man's Search for Meaning, he describes the unimaginable and torturous conditions of the camps. As a Jew, Frankl thought that he knew the meaning of life, and yet in those inhumane circumstances he had to question his assumptions and seek a new answer.

Frankl finally discovered that, as he writes:

"...everything can be taken from a [person] but one thing: the last of the human freedoms?to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way. ...It is this spiritual freedom?which cannot be taken away?that makes life meaningful and purposeful."

Frankl believed that "if there is a meaning in life at all, then there must be a meaning in suffering. Suffering is an ineradicable part of life, even as fate and death. Without suffering and death human life cannot be complete."

Frankl reminds us that it is our suffering that engenders the most important questions about life, and it is in our suffering that we will also find the answers. In the words of Virginia Casey, "Tears are like rain. They loosen up our soil so we can grow in different directions." We are seekers, you and I, seekers of meaning in our suffering, seekers of purpose in our living, and seekers of truth in the questions we ask.

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MY SECOND OBSERVATION is that we are here to grow a soul. I'm borrowing a term from the eloquent Unitarian minister, A. Powell Davies, whose life and work I will be speaking about in two weeks on Legacy Sunday. Davies said that "Life is just a chance to grow a soul."

When Davies used the term "soul", he certainly didn't mean it in the traditional sense as a separate spiritual entity within us. As one Unitarian Universalist said, "You always know you are in a Unitarian church when people believe that animals have souls but people don't." Davies ? and I ? use soul in a metaphorical sense. So if you have a term you're more comfortable with, please substitute it.

I prefer the way Thomas Moore uses "soul" when he writes: "It is impossible to define precisely what the soul is. Definition is an intellectual enterprise anyway; the soul prefers to imagine. We know intuitively that soul has to do with genuineness and depth, as when we say certain music has soul or a remarkable person is soulful.... Soul is revealed in attachment, love, and community, as well as in retreat on behalf of inner communing and intimacy."

For me soul is something we grow within and around us, like a tree that spreads its roots deep within the ground and its branches far out into the sky. When I observe nature, I see that most living beings seem to move towards the light of unity and balance, and human beings are no different.

Whenever we feel a sense of unity, of connectedness, with another person or with nature or with God, our soul grows. Whenever we are seduced by hatred or bigotry or greed, our soul is diminished. As William Blake wrote, "It is not that we have a soul, we are a soul."

Teilhard de Chardin gave us a glimpse of the soul with his "Hymn of the Universe," sung by our choir so beautifully this morning:

"You, my God, are the inmost depths, the stability of that eternal milieu, without duration or space, in which our cosmos emerges gradually into being and grows gradually to its final completeness, as it loses those boundaries which to our eyes seem so immense."


It's certainly easier to feel connectedness and commonality with those we love. But our challenge is to extend that sense of sanctity beyond family and friends to those we have never known and will never know.

The first statement of the Unitarian Universalist Purposes and Principles is that we "affirm and promote the inherent worth and dignity of every person." That affirmation has been tested by the terrorists who killed so many innocent victims on September 11th. Many UUs have questioned whether this principle is still viable.

I've struggled with this question too, but I believe that no matter how evil the acts, there is always some grain of goodness, of love and inherent worth within each and every human being. That goodness may be buried beneath the immovable rubble of fear, hatred and meaninglessness, but I believe -- or at least I hope -- it is still there.

The real danger of such evil acts is that it will cause us to lose our sense of the sacred so that we begin to see the world as the terrorists see it ? as soulless and devoid of meaning. Our response in this vacuum must be to continue to grow our soul, to strengthen our connections to those around us, to reach out with love and generosity, to be as life-affirming in spite of the hatred and fear of others.

A fertile soil for growing our souls is the pain that links us with those who suffer. Rachel Naomi Remen, in her book, My Grandfather's Blessings, writes from her perspective as a doctor and therapist who sees suffering and death daily. She tells us:

"Some of those who have had a near-death experience, who have actually set foot over that edge and then returned, have had an additional insight. Their experience has revealed to them that every life serves a single purpose. We are here to grow in wisdom and to learn to love better. Despite the countless and diverse ways we live our lives, every life is a spiritual path, and all life has a spiritual agenda."


This is how we grow a soul: to grow in wisdom and to learn to love better.

********

MY THIRD OBSERVATION is that we are here to give of ourselves in service. Nature is always giving to us in generous abundance: the gifts of sunlight and rain, of air and soil, of life itself. As one writer (Ilya Prigogine) put it, "The world is richer than it is possible to express in any single language."

Once we see life as sacred, once we feel our deep-rooted connections to humanity, then it is only natural that we reach out to sustain and protect the living. We give of ourselves not as an act of selflessness but as an act of soulfulness.

It is apparent to me that we do exist for the purpose of serving. Just as we have been nurtured and cared for by others, we have a responsibility, a need and a desire to nurture and care for others. As we grow our souls, we become more aware that since all of us are connected in the interdependent web of existence, to help another is to enhance our own being.

Isn't it obvious that the giving and receiving of love is at the core of what life itself strives to realize? What were the reactions of Americans and many other people around the world to the terrorist attacks? Certainly horror, grief, fear and anger. But what stands out for me is the generosity. As a people, we wanted to help those who had suffered so greatly. We wanted to keep this from happening again.


Vast sums of money were raised in a short period of time. Lines were so long at blood banks that people were turned away. Condolences for the victim's families and appreciation to the firemen and policemen have been overwhelming. And concern shown for Muslims in our midst has been heartening. Instead of letting the terrorists turn us into terrorists, the American people have responded from their hearts with unbelievable generosity and kindness.

I believe that service is the work of the soul. When we reach out to others, we are returning to what is most genuine and real in each of us. Though we are constantly being distracted from our true nature, pulled by greed, desire, and passivity, every act of love and service expands our souls and gives our life a trajectory towards goodness.

In the book, Tuesdays with Morrie, Morrie is an elderly college professor who is dying, and the young, successful sportswriter, Mitch, is learning about life and death from him. At one point Morrie says:

"'...So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half-asleep, even when they're busy doing things they think are important. This is because they're chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning in your life is to devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning...
"Mitch, you asked about caring for other people I don't even know. But can I tell you the thing I'm learning most with this disease? The most important thing in life is to learn how to give out love, and let it come in.'
"His voice dropped to a whisper, 'Let it come in. We think we don't deserve love, we think if we let it in we'll become too soft. But a wise man ... said it right. He said 'Love is the only rational act.' He repeated it carefully, pausing for effect. 'Love is the only rational act.'"

So we are here for a purpose. I don't know if it is a purpose ordained by God, but I do know that it becomes clear to me when I observe the world of nature, and especially when I stand in the shadow of buildings turned to rubble.

This is why we are here:
- to seek out the deeper truths by asking Big Questions;
- to grow our souls by connecting our lives to others;

and to serve with love and compassion.

What better reasons could there be, and what greater joy than to live with deeper purpose and meaning.

Amen.

PRAYER by The Dalai Lama

May I become at all times, both now and forever
A protector for those without protection
A guide for those who have lost their way
A ship for those with oceans to cross
A bridge for those with rivers to cross
A sanctuary for those in danger
A lamp for those without light
A place of refuge for those who lack shelter
And a servant to all in need.

 


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