I Wish I Knew How

A service titled ‘I Wish I Knew How’, led by Rev. Dr. Jane Blackall, with readings given by Antony Bunsee, Juliet Edwards and Roy Clark, and music from George Ireland.

Transcript

SPEAKER_01 2:03

Welcome to this place of possibility. This is love's heart. The home of hope, a refuge for minds in search of truth unfolding. Truth ever beautiful, ever strange. Here compassion is our shelter, our freedom, our protection from the storms of life, the trials and troubles of the world beyond our doors. In this abode may we find comfort, courage, challenge and the encouragement to stretch ourselves. Here may our sight become vision to see the unseen and to glimpse the good that is yet to be. The title of this morning's service is taken from a favourite hymn, I Wish I Knew How which of course we will be singing later. With its opening eye lines, I wish I knew how it would feel to be free. I wish I could break all these chains holding me. This ritual is the moment for us to pause and truly arrive, maybe take a breath be here now. Lay aside anything we don't need to be worrying about for the next hour or so. It's a simple ritual that connects us with Unitarians and Unitarian Universalists the world over, and it reminds us of the proudly progressive religious tradition of which this gathering is part. It's a faith built on the foundation of freedom, reason, and tolerance. A faith sustained by acts of kindness and justice. A faith that envisions a world flourishing with equality for all her people. A faith that demands the living out of truth, and goodness. A faith that requires thoughtfulness and mutual care. A faith of wholeness, authenticity, and liberation. Our first hymn this morning is number 198 in your purple books if you're in the church. If you're on Zoom, the words will be up on screen for all the hymns. Feel free to stand or sit as you prefer and sing up as best you can. We haven't got Benji, but we'll do our best. 1980. This is based on some words from my old friend Simon John Barland. You might want to adjust your position, you might want to put down anything you don't need to be holding, maybe close your eyes. Perhaps there's a posture that helps you to feel more centered, or helps you get into the right state of body and mind for us to pray together now, and be fully present to ourselves, each other, and that which lies within us and beyond us. We turn our full attention to you, the light within and without as we turn into the depths of this life. And the greater wisdom to which and through which we are all intimately connected. Even if you're the only one to hear your prayer, what it is that you need to say. And let's give thanks for all that we already have. Recall all those moments of kindness or comfort, pleasure, or joy. Silently and inwardly, let's take the time to savour all those gifts and take in what's good. Starting with those ones who are dear and close to our heart, stretching ever outward extending around this entire planet till we hold all beings in the light of life. Spirit of life, God of all love, as this time of prayer draws to a close, we offer up our joys and concerns, our hopes and our fears, our beauty and our brokenness. And we call on you for insight, healing, and renewal. As we look forward now to the coming week, help us to live well each day and be our best selves. Using our unique gifts in the service of love, justice, and peace. Amen. Time to sing again now. Our second hymn today is number one hundred and sixty-seven in your purple books. There is a place I call my own, also known as Flying Free. Hymn one, six, seven. The first from Art Lester, who was minister when I first came here, and the second from Bill Darlison. And before I hand over to Anthony and Juliet, I just want to note that these teaching stories, they often don't work out too well for the poor animals involved. I can't believe for the second week in a row I have cause to say I feel sorry for the elephant. But let's remember, they're just made-up stories. No raccoons or elephants were actually harmed in the making of these fables.

SPEAKER_06 19:00

The story of the trapped raccoon, adapted from a version by Art Lester. There was once a clever hunter who knew how to catch a raccoon. It's very simple, really. All you have to do is let the raccoon catch himself. So this is a story about a raccoon who found himself in the strongest trap ever invented. The hunter took a nice plump fish and put it in the hollow of a tree. A raccoon came by and smelled the fish from a mile off. Now, a raccoon is very intelligent, but also very stubborn and stuck in its ways. The opening to the hollow was large enough for his hand. Raccoons have hands, you know. Just like people. He reached inside and took hold of the fish. But when he tried to remove it, he found that the crack wasn't large enough to let his hand back out again with the fish in it. He was stuck. He stood in front of the tree, unable to move. A crow was watching all this from a branch. He fluttered down and said to the raccoon, I see that you are caught in the hunter's trap. Yes, said the raccoon pitifully, I cannot move, even though the hunter will soon come and catch me. Hmm. It is the spirit of animals like us to be free, said the crow. To run and fly unimpeded through the forest, to go where we will, like the wind. Let us true, said the raccoon. I long for my freedom now that it has been denied me. Then why don't you release the fish and run away? asked the crow. There is so little time. Because it's also in my nature to love fish, said the raccoon sadly. My instinct will not let me let a plump, juicy fish get away. Try as I might, I cannot take my fingers off it. The crow pondered for a moment and then said, The hunter will make your insides into a pie and your outsides into a hat. He'll come along any minute now. You'll wind up in the pot. Oh what shall I do? wailed the raccoon. There is only one solution, said the crow, looking at the raccoon's sharp teeth. And that is why. In some parts of the world they say so and so is as stubborn as a three legged raccoon.

SPEAKER_00 21:53

A little gir well, it's called the story of the captive elephant, as told by Bill. Darlington. A little girl was at the zoo with her father when she spotted some elephants. That's strange, she said. The little elephant has a big rope tied round its leg. But the big elephant's leg is only tied with thin string. Why is that? Her father didn't know the answer. I was prominent overwhelmed because fathers know all the answers, don't they? But um they asked the zookeeper, who'd overheard the girl's question. When it's still a baby, the elephant is tied with very thick rope attached to a stake in the ground. The little elephant tries and tries to pull itself free, but it is tethered too strongly. It keeps on trying, but it's never successful. After about a year, it gives up trying, thinking that the rope will always be too strong for it. At that point, the keepers can tie the elephant's leg to a thin piece of string, to a broom handle. And the elephant, remembering its inability to escape in the past, never even tries to get away. It could pull itself free very easily, but it's been tricked into thinking there's no point in even trying.

SPEAKER_01 24:08

These teaching stories rarely have happy endings, but uh we'll return to them both later on and try and extract some meaning from them. Thank you, Anthony, and thank you, Juliet. So we're moving into a time of meditation now, and to take us into the stillness, I'm gonna share a poem you'll never guess who it's by. Once again, Rosemary Wattola Trummer comes to the rescue. She seems to have an appropriate poem for almost any spiritual thing. The poem opens with the line, sit with the freedom in your heart. So I'm gonna suggest that we take an extra moment to settle ourselves and take a few breaths and find our heart centre before we hear the rather meditative poem. As usual, after the poem, we'll hold a few minutes of shared silence, which will end with the sound of a bell, and then we're gonna hear some more music from George. So do what you need to do to get comfortable. You might want to put your feet flat on the floor, you might want to put down anything you don't need to be holding. And the words they're just an offering. Feel free to meditate in your own way. But let us take that moment to settle. You might want to scrunch your shoulders up and then let them go. And bring your attention to the centre of your chest as you take a few slow breaths. In through your nose. And out through your mouth. And again in through your nose. And out through your mouth. Sit with the freedom in your heart. Feel it expanding into your palms. In this moment, whole galaxies seemed to fit inside your fingertips. How? When did you become this vast? Was this spaciousness always here? Could you have felt this way yesterday? If only you'd got out of your own way. Let it surge through you until your body forgets any limits and knows itself as infinite. Freedom will do what freedom does. Invite you to touch the source of the universe. Replace for this moment your fear with awe.

SPEAKER_05 33:50

What does it mean to be truly free? Often we think of freedom as the absence of restrictions, a physical space where we can act, express, and move around without limiting barriers. We name this as our freedom of opinion, of speaking, and of personal choices. This view of freedom focuses heavily on external factors, our rights, choices, and independence. However, history has shown us that there exists a different type of liberation. One that is profound, substantial, and not limited to time and space. One that can be present even in the face of severe external oppression. Victor Frankel, a Holocaust survivor, emphasizes this idea in his powerful statement everything can be taken from humans but one thing. The last of the human freedoms. To choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances. This insight reveals a deep spiritual truth. While the lack of external freedom can hinder us from experiencing freedom, it is our inner freedom that defines our experience of being truly free. Inner freedom is a state of being that is cultivated through inner healing, awareness, and self-discovery. Experiencing inner freedom involves illuminating our unconscious patterns that guide our lives and questioning the narratives we have inherited from our early upbringing and from society. Whilst inner freedom starts from within, it is intrinsically linked to the external world. The saying as within so without suggests that the freedom we cultivate internally is reflected in the realities we create outside ourselves, and vice versa. For instance, a society that values external freedoms, such as human rights, safety, and fairness, provides fertile ground for the cultivation of inner freedom. Conversely, a lack of external freedom can stifle our ability to explore our inner worlds. Ultimately, true freedom is a state of being, and when embodied, it ripples around the world. Freedom involves the courage to step into the unknown, to surrender our need for excessive control, and to trust in life's unfolding. It is generated by accepting our inner contradictions, our fear and our bravery, our individuality, and our connection we share with others. It lies in the gentle realization that we are both co-creators and experiences of our reality.

SPEAKER_01 37:32

You knew it was coming. Hymn number seventy. Since I first stumbled into the church 27 years ago, I've noticed that we've softened our view on reason a bit, acknowledging that there are indeed other sources of wisdom and insight that transcend the rational, which may be found through emotion or intuition or direct experience. We're not just a religion of the head. And the traditional emphasis on tolerance has been questioned a bit too. It can feel a bit grudging, tolerance. Sounds like putting up with. We've moved towards the language of celebrating and affirming when it comes to our relationship with difference, be that religious and theological diversity or other dimensions of culture and identity. But freedom, it's hardly surprising that freedom comes first in that slogan. It seems to me that freedom is so central to the Unitarian outlook. So no wonder it's a theme that we come back to time and time again in our services. And there are many different dimensions to explore. Today I want us to focus in particular on what I'm going to call interior freedom. And much of the time, I would say, we Unitarians tend to focus on external, exterior freedom. We are rightly very concerned with the material conditions of oppression that millions, if not billions, of people face every day the world over. Violence, discrimination, poverty, all the unjust and unfair systems that keep people trapped in suffering. When we talk about building a better world as we so often do, or the kingdom of God or the beloved community, or whichever form of words most animates you, when we talk about this, I am often thinking primarily about us engaging in a project of liberation. We're dreaming of a future where all these oppressive systems are overthrown, a time when everybody is free to live their life as they see fit, to express themselves, to flourish. A day when the only constraint on freedom is that principle that we don't cause harm to other people in the process. And that is not trivial to live out, of course, but that's a subject for another day. Our focus on exterior freedom is a noble one. It can call us to be attentive to the sufferings of our neighbours and to do what we can to dismantle all those structures and systems and our attitudes, including the attitudes we hold within ourselves, the attitudes that keep so many people unfree. But what about this interior freedom? I've always found it a slightly slippery subject to get a handle on. Yet it seems to come up again and again in different guises in all the major religious traditions, also in various psychological and psychotherapeutic schools of thought, there's this persistent idea that spiritual practice or doing the inner work might set us free. I'm going to share a longish quote from Yogishadha of the Brahma Kumaris, his perspective on interior freedom. He writes, In many parts of the world, people have freedom of movement, of speech, of freedom to preach and to practice any religion. However, these freedoms can be taken away from you. The freedom that no one except yourself can deprive you of is the freedom to think and feel as you want when you want. Generally, we believe that the behavior of people, events, and outer circumstances are responsible for the way we feel. But one important principle in a life of spiritual Is that my own thoughts and emotional states are entirely my choice, my responsibility. There are some spiritual principles involved in taking charge of my own inner world, owning my own peace and happiness, thinking and feeling what I want when I want. The two foundations for growing internally are inner strength and our perspective or the way we see life. We usually try to control events and other people, believing that that will make us secure and happy. But if we do that, we will necessarily become stressed. Between me and the world outside is my mind. All I need to do is to shift my desire for control from outside to inside and have control over my mind. Very much easier said than done, I would say. And I should admit that when I first encountered teachings of this sort about interior freedom, I balked at them somewhat. I felt suspicious verging on hostile as I tried to translate this principle and apply it to challenging situations in my own life. My first reaction to it was a kind of outrage. The implication seemed to be that anyone could do whatever dreadful things they wanted with negative consequences to me or to the world. And in some sense, they were off the hook because any inner suffering that I felt in response to that was apparently entirely my own responsibility. It feels unjust. It sounds very much like your suffering is your own fault. But is it as simple as all that? Despite my initially quite negative reaction, I think I also realised quite early on that there was still something worth grappling with in these sort of spiritual teachings. We probably shouldn't be fatalistic, but many external factors are often are largely out of our control. And when we're facing difficulties that we can't do anything about, it is wise to turn our attention to something that we do have some control over, and that is our inner response. There are some echoes with the old serenity prayer. Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. I think this notion of interior feed freedom speaks to the things I cannot change. How might we respond to life's inevitable trials in a way that doesn't compound our suffering? It reminds me of the old Buddhist teaching of the first dart and the second dart. When we're pierced in the heart by the first dart of external circumstances, it may indeed be painful. But we don't have to add the second dart of suffering by excessively ruminating or making up some unhelpful inner narrative about it too. If we cultivate this so-called interior freedom, we might be able to save ourselves or be a bit more able to save ourselves some of this unnecessary secondary suffering. This is something Rick Hanson, who's one of my favourite teachers, he talks about this a lot. He gives some examples of the sort of second darts we might be habitually throwing at ourselves. He says, over ac overreacting to little things, holding grudges, justifying yourself, drowning in guilt when you've already learned a lesson, dwelling on things long past, losing your perspective, worrying about stuff you can't control, and mentally rehashing conversations. A common term for enlightenment is liberation. So my perspectives on these teachings have shifted a bit, but I still do want to add a note of caution before we go any further. We need to tread carefully, because I think there's a risk that some of these teachings on interior freedom can be misused for spiritual bypassing. That is, they can be used to avoid facing and tackling difficult external realities, even to suggest that, oh, these bad things aren't really happening or that they're not real, or imply that we should be able to transcend them rather than engaging in the too important struggle for exterior change. And as I've said, in our tradition of Unitarianism, it is a high priority for us to face up to uncomfortable realities as best we can in order to make change, to protest and to organize, to build a land where justice rolls down like water and peace is an ever-flowing stream, as we sang earlier. Liberation has got to be material as well as psychological and spiritual. That said, the two wisdom stories we heard earlier, the raccoon and the elephant, they present striking images of the ways in which we might collude with our own captivity. The raccoon is operating out of habit. He knows full well what he needs to do to be free, but he can't bring himself to do it. Anyone looking on from the outside will say, Just drop the fish. But it's not as easy as it might seem from outside. He's in the grip of habit. This sort of dynamic will be all too familiar to anyone who struggled with addiction or other compulsive behaviours. Likewise, the poor elephant who's only weakly tied with a string, he could get up and walk away anytime, and yet he's so identified with his own captivity, so demoralized that he no longer even tries to break free. And we too can lose heart and become resigned to our fate. In that piece from Puber Yujo Joel that Roy read for us, she quotes the famous words of Victor Frankel, which are also on the front of your order of service this morning. One of the insights he brought back with him as a survivor of the Nazi concentration camps was this even when imprisoned, people can maintain this inner freedom. And as he said, the last of the human freedoms is to choose one attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way. And indeed, Frankel wrote elsewhere another very famous line between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space lies our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom. This is a kind of existential freedom, as Dan Cumber Cumberland, the founder of the Meaning Movement, has written. He said, Regardless of our external circumstances, we are continually confronted with choices that define our essence and shape our identity. True freedom lives in our internal responses and the values we uphold amid life's challenges. Emphasising that our choices define our essence regardless of external limitations. By embracing our ability to respond, we can transform suffering into meaning and despair into hope. Ultimately, recognizing that we are architects of our own fate empowers us, allowing ourselves to navigate even the bleakest of circumstances with dignity and purpose. Perhaps I'll just close with an echo of that invitation that Rosemary Wattola Trumma offered for our meditation today. And perhaps it's one that we can return to often to remind us to cultivate or to reconnect with that sense of interior freedom. Like she said, sit with the freedom in your heart feel it expanding. Was this spaciousness always here? Could you have felt this way yesterday if only you'd got out of your own way? Amen. One last hymn, and it's a jaunty one. Number one six five in your purple books. The spirit lives to set us free. Walk in the light. One six five. Thanks to the One Man Theatre Company, Anthony for reading, and also Julia and Roy. Thanks to Azita for greeting, and Liz for putting the kettle on, making the tea. Thanks to Vita for the lovely flowers once again. If you're online, stay for a chat with Charlotte if you can. If you're here in person, we've got plenty of cake, Victoria Sponge or Apple and Pear Cake. After the service today at 1, Vita is offering an Indian head massage workshop. Do have a chat with Vita if you want to know more about that, if you haven't already signed up. Tonight on Friday, we've got our online contemplative spiritual gathering, Heart and Soul, and this week our theme is adventure. If you'd like to join us, just drop me an email. The book club this month is reading a really excellent and rather challenging book, Calling In, How to Start Making Change with Those You'd Rather Cancel by Loretta Ross. I really recommend it. We've got a couple of copies still to lend out. If you've taken one or you take one today, please let me know because I don't know where they've gone. Next Sunday, Sarah Tinker will be leading our service on being brave. Looking further ahead, we've got a lunch on the 26th of July. Uh Liz is going to be coordinating that, so please sign up to let her know what food or drink you're going to bring. And indeed, if you're not already helping with the volunteering rotors, maybe let her know and see if you could greet or uh make coffee sometime. All the details are on the back of your order of service. Sign up for the Friday email if you haven't already, because you'll get the information there. Or you could pick up a newsletter in the foyer. We've very much got a life beyond Sunday morning, so do what you can to look out for each other and build those supportive connections. So just time for our closing words and closing music now. We walk this earth a brief moment in time. Amid our sufferings, however great or small, let us continue to learn how to celebrate life in all its variety. Let us continue to grow in our capacity to love ourselves and one another. And let us continue to move towards this goal of a better world, a global community of peace, justice, joy, and liberation for all.