Gorsedd Prayer
Grant o’ Spirit Thy Protection,
And in protection, strength,
And in strength, understanding,
And in understanding, knowledge,
And in knowledge, the knowledge of justice,
And in the knowledge of justice, the love of it.
And in the love of it, the love of all existences,
And in the love of all existences, the love of Spirit and all Goodness
Iolo Morganwg, 18th century Unitarian minister, Welsh
nationalist and druid, slightly recast by Emma Restall Orr, 21st
century druid.
The Rabbi's Gift
|
In the 16th century, there was a very successful parish somewhere in Europe. The parish had many pious monks of its own, and had established Abbeys at several places. Located in a luxuriant, beautiful forest was its main Abbey where monks served God with prayers and meditation. In the 17th and 18th centuries, the parish started to bear the brunt of anti-religious and anti-missionary movements. The rise of secularism in the 19th century further diminished the allure of the parish, and ushered in the era of its decline. By the mid-19th century, the parish's monks had almost all died off as though in concert with the Abbey's decline. All that remained was the main Abbey, alone in the beautiful forest, in which resided just five monks, all of whom were over 70, and all of whom had "one foot in the grave." Few expected the Abbey to survive for long. In the depths of the beautiful forest was a cabin, where a Rabbi, who lived most of his life in town, would go for a few days' seclusion every now and again. The full-fledged monks seemed to possess a kind of intuition. They could sense the Rabbi's presence in the forest whenever he was on his way and they would pass the word among themselves" "The Rabbi is coming. He has arrived." Once, when the monks were circulating word of the Rabbi's imminent visit, the Abbot -- an old man worried about the Abbey's prospects - had a flash of inspiration. "Why not visit the Rabbi at his cabin? Perhaps he can give me some advice on how to save the abbey from decline?" he thought to himself. Upon his arrival at the cabin, the Abbot was greeted warmly by the Rabbi. When he stated the intention of his visit, the Rabbi showed nothing but compassion. Though the Rabbi empathized with the Abbot, he offered no suggestions as to how to make the situation better. "I see what is going on now," the Rabbi said. "People nowadays have no spiritual yearnings, no religious faith. The same is true with my town where almost nobody goes to temple." The old Rabbi and the old Abbot seemed to bond with each other, and read several chapters of the Bible together. After that, they engaged in quiet but enthusiastic discussions of abstruse issues, as if they were sorry not to have met each other many years ago. As night closed in, the old Abbot had to leave and he gave the Rabbi a farewell hug. Then the Abbot said, "Great! It is wonderful that we have met." "It is a pity that I have not fulfilled the aim of my visit, though. Do you really not have any advice for me to save the declining parish?" he said. "No, I am sorry," the Rabbi replied, "I have no advice for you, but I can tell you one thing - one of you in the Abbey is the Messiah." Upon the Abbot's return to the abbey, his eagerly waiting colleagues closed in around him, hurriedly asking," What did the Rabbi say?" "He could not give us a hand," the Abbot answered, "He and I only cried and read the Bible together. When I was leaving, he told me one thing -- it sounded strange and mysterious, and I don't know what it means. He said that one of you is the Messiah." During the days, weeks and months that followed, the old monks reflected on those words. "Do the Rabbi's words `One of you is the Messiah' carry any other connotations?" they asked themselves. Does the "you" refer to us? If it does, then who is the Messiah? they asked themselves. Is he the Abbot? Maybe. He has led the parish for over 20 years. But Father Thomas is likely to be the Messiah as well. As everyone knows, he is a saint-like man. Or maybe Father Eliot is the Messiah. He tends to behave awkwardly and sometimes says words that hurt people's feelings; but on closer examination, his words always turn out to be reasonable, they said among themselves. Of course, Philip is not the Messiah, is he? More strange yet is that he is a man of miracles. Whenever someone is in need or in trouble, Philip will show up. Perhaps he is the Messiah. Certainly, the Messiah that the Rabbi talked about cannot be me as I am just an ordinary person. But what if it does turn out to be me? What a surprise if I am the Messiah! Oh! My God! It cannot be me. I couldn't bear that! Am I capable of shouldering the burden of being the Messiah? Such were the thought processes of the monks over the ensuing days. Each of the old monks at the Abbey was engrossed in reflection. For all their brooding over the Rabbi's words, however, there was no answer. But, having engaged in reflection, they started to treat one another with greater respect every day. As one of them was likely to be the Messiah, how could they fail to hold him in regard? Each began to treat himself with more self-respect as it dawned upon each individual that they themselves could turn out to be the Messiah. How could he fail to respect himself? How could he trivialize the Messiah? The forest in which the main Abbey was located was charming. Once in a while, people came to picnic outdoors in the Abbey grounds, enjoy a stroll in the garden or occupy themselves in meditation in a decaying church. The visitors also came to sense the atmosphere of mutual respect exuded by the five old monks. The aura seemed to envelop the whole Abbey, making it a place of mystery and allure. Then, for no particularly apparent reason, the Abbey became more and more popular - more so than ever - for picnics and prayers. People brought friends to this special spot, and their friends invited their own friends. One day, some youngsters who paid a visit to the Abbey struck up a conversation with the old monks. The two sides continued to talk with one another and the more they talked, the more profound and interesting became their discussions. Before long, one of the youngsters filed an application to join the parish, and soon, so did increasing numbers of others. After a couple of years, the parish seemed to have blossomed from decay into a spiritual centre for neighbouring areas. |
by David Miley
My co-worker laughed - when I told him that I had become a Unitarian-Universalist Worship Committee chairman. "Unitarians don't worship anything," he said. "I know," he said, "because I played French horn in a brass quartet at lots of Unitarian churches in California and all they had were well meaning talks." Pointing out that we are a do-it-yourself religion made up of free thinkers only raised his amusement level. "Yeah sure," he said.
This interchange is not atypical. For a religion of a quarter million people, we get lots of attention. Garrison Keillor tweaks us more weeks than not, but at least he's an equal opportunity humorist. George Will described us as not being a "red meat" religion in a much less gentle way. So what distinguishes us from an ethical society? What makes us a church that worships instead of a service club that invites speakers?
We as a denomination are famous for holding questions above answers and talking about heaven over actually going there. We could even argue that worship is just a label for a place and time to meet to discuss important issues and then have coffee. Some would even argue that coffee is worship. In the past, some have argued, in all seriousness, that the only reason to come to the actual worship service, before coffee, was to hear the announcements. I'm not making this up. We are uncomfortable about worship, because worship has always seemed tied to one particular group grinding one particular Deity's ax. Our order of service reflects the lowest common denominator, a bare bones Protestant model without God, prayers or praises.
Worship originally meant worthiness. We hear it in the title, "Your Worship" applied by an inferior to a superior. More often “worship” translates into the more common verbal usage as "to venerate a power held divine." Worship, in both elaborate and austere rituals demonstrate veneration of something greater than ourselves. From the standpoint of veneration, our services do not seem to be worshipful and we certainly do not address our ministers as “Your Worship.”
Our Unitarian and Universalist forbears would have no problem with veneration. They had a clear view of the Christian God and knew Who they were venerating. Over time, Transcendentalists and then Humanists eroded this clarity. Eventually, God, Christian or otherwise, was pretty much banished from our discourse. One of our previous ministers was actually afraid to use the "G" word in our services for fear of the amount of flak he would take and he had good reason! A worship committee member left our church because we wouldn't include a time for prayer in our services. One Easter Sunday long ago, there was actually no mention of the fact that it was Easter. This caused extreme anguish with a few members and barely a ripple with most.
Recently there has been some change. Unitarian-Universalism, led primarily by our women ministers have loosened up a bit. Our church services now include amens and God's and Goddesses and even occasional Blessed Be's. Our church now has Easter services and Christmas services that mention Jesus. We've had a service on prayer. I've included a prayer in our service today. From outward signs we're looking more and more like a red meat religion. But, are we, as a denomination, any more worshipful now than the days when God was banished from our lexicon?
Well, I've posed a whole host of questions and if my colleague were right, we could just stop here, sing the final hymn and get on with coffee and signup sheets. If he was right, our only reason for coming to services is to be intellectually stimulated and socialize with our friends.
I'll say now that he was not right and good questions are not anyone’s answers. I'm going to hold out for heaven on Earth and heaven in our denomination’s worship services. Let me repeat Emerson's opening words-
"There is a deep power in which we exist and whose beatitude is accessible to us. Every moment when the individual feels invaded by it is memorable."
This is my functional definition of Spirit. It is the Inner Light of the Society of Friends and the flash of spiritual inspiration found in many religions. At its core, it is our response to the Spirit and Life and in turn, it is Spirit and Life’s response to us.
The Rabbi's Gift, further illustrates that Inner Light at work. As the story opens, the monk's had fallen into despair at the impending demise of their order - the U-U equivalent of successive bad canvasses. Note, they were not concerned with their own spiritual life, just the continuation of the institution that they had given their lives too. And they were desperate, for it must be considered that a Christian abbot going off to consult a rabbi has got to be considered an act of desperation.
That desperation turns to joy. It also turns to worship. The two men interact in worship and each sees their common humanity and common spiritual presence. On this, the story turns. Without this connection, the rabbi could as easily have been a fortuneteller or a talking bird. In point of fact, the abbot returns to the monastery with two gifts.
The first gift is the spiritual awakening that he and the rabbi are both brothers in spirit. They had recognized each other as brothers on a common quest. If the Rabbi had simply told him “one of you is the Messiah now beat it” there would be no story at all. The second gift is the actual prophecy, which is the rabbi's recognition of the spiritual awakening of the abbot and the potential for spiritual awakening in everyone.
In explaining the prophecy to the monks, only part of the message is in words. The other part of the message is the changed presence of the abbot himself. His combined message begins its work on the life of the monks, opening each of them to their own divinity and the divinity of each other. In this way they grew in love and respect and that love and respect was so visibly compelling that others, with empty parts of their soul joined and revived the monk’s order.
I remember a service many years ago, towards the end of our church’s Welcoming Congregation process. Within this service was a time for Gay and Lesbian members of our congregation to witness to the persecutions they had suffered for just being themselves. Tale after sad tale was told. Then non-Gay, non-Lesbian folk began to describe the times in their lives when they were persecuted for who they were. Inner Lights slowly came on. Compassion for humanity and compassion for ourselves filled our sanctuary, and for awhile, there was no gay or straight, just all of us together. It was the single most spiritual U-U service I have ever participated in.
At other times, our church has had powerful witness from our ministers and lay presenters that carried the rest of us along. One woman’s lifetime of spiritual water stewardship, a man, Larry Ingraham, now sadly departed, who made pilgrimage to an AIDS hospital in Haiti, our minister’s description of being overcome by the power of place on a Greek island - each of these moments invoked the power of spirit to touch and infuse us – and in Emerson’s words to invade us in Life’s Song and make us a little better than we were before.
I use the term “witness” deliberately here. These were not "well-meaning talks" as my colleague put it, but actual testimonies to the power of the Spirit moving through individuals and changing lives. We make ourselves worthy and worshipful by venerating the divine both immanent in this world and in immanent in ourselves.
Today's prayer was written by an 18th century Unitarian preacher and Welsh nationalist. It has been modified slightly by a 21st century Druid. Her changes were simply to drop "God" and insert "Spirit" in His place. That action, in many ways, is what Unitarian-Universalists are learning to do now. We are getting beyond the forms of God-speak, beyond whether to use the "G" word or not use the "G" word. We are reaching toward a direct Spirit that has the power to change us and everything else that it touches.
The flow of this prayer is also instructive and mirrors, in every respect, the development of our denomination.
Now let me rephrase the Gorsedd Prayer in terms of UU History
We began our denominations firmly based in the Christian God and trusted in that God for protection. And from that position of spiritual safety we understood the world, knew justice, and loved justice. U-U humanist leadership during the civil rights struggle was a beacon and an admonishment to the rest of religious America.
But then there was more. We advanced again by adding the sixth source of Earth centered religions and the seventh principle of the interdependent web of all existences. Note the similarities between Morganwg's "love of all existences" and "the interdependent web of all existences." .
From there, in worship and in love, which is another name for worship, we reach towards Spirit - Spirit that is in each of us, in every tree and every blade of grass. Wherever we are on this path, whether learning, fighting for justice or reaching out to our world with love, we are moving toward this Spirit.
The witness of our path is the true Unitarian-Universalist worship. It transcends niceness and is beyond doing the right thing. Our worship, at it's best, connects us to our deepest spiritual Power and midwifes that Power's entrance into our heart, mind and soul. That love spreads out to our community and the world and makes change. This is what distinguishes us from an ethical society or service club. There is a Light at the end of our tunnel. Our worship services, at their best, connect us to that Light - for when we are at our best, we recognize that Light within ourselves and within each other.
Benediction
There is a Sound
There is a Sound,
That supports the World.
It is tree dance
And brook babbling.
It is summer storm and volcano.
It is in us and apart.
As loud as sleigh bells -
Still, you may not hear it.
Touch tree.
Face fear.
Light fire.
Dance in moonlight.
Make love.
Sing.
The Sound is silent
Til you sing it.
One of you is the Messiah. Go in peace.
(A small note, “There is a Sound” was
written by David Miley)