National Gallery Sculpture, Delhi, India
April 3, 2011
When I first studied Yoga back in the 1970’s, the practice was just gaining popularity. My mother, who learned yoga when it wasn’t very fashionable, should receive the blame or the credit for my rather unorthodox spiritual journey. She gave me roots in Christianity and wings to explore other paths. And she always encouraged me to think for myself and respond to the mysteries and the call of my heart and spirit. She taught me how to balance what seemed incongruent to most people.
I first learned yoga at the Aquarian Age Yoga Center in Virginia Beach. I was immediately drawn to that form of yoga—the poses or postures gently maintained for longer and longer periods of time, the pranayama or breathing practices that soothed this young woman’s nerves since I was just embarking on study for a Masters in Social Work. I clearly remember my first silent yoga retreat. I found deep peace and contentment. My world changed overnight. I felt more awake and vibrant than ever before.
I became a vegetarian as a result of my yogic practice. My decision to be a vegetarian was based on ethical and moral reasons as well as health considerations. I am generally a quiet vegetarian but the convictions underneath my decision run deep and strong as an integral part of my spiritual path. I balanced my ethical principles with the yearnings of my heart through this decision.
Some of my friends tell me about the yoga that they practice. They aim to sweat, to rapidly move from one posture to the next, to get the heart rate up. I understand those modes of yoga are in vogue but they don’t suit me. To me, yoga is union—it’s about being in harmony with your body, mind and spirit; about a connection with the Spirit of Life, the inner guide, the Source of all. Yoga is more than contortion exercises or a competition to see who can bend the farthest backwards, forwards or vertically. I am a little surprised sometimes when I go to classes and there is an emphasis on challenging yourself or pushing. Exercise and yoga are two different things—both positive for the body and for well being, but two different things.
Yoga, a science that grew within Hinduism, includes a number of branches or disciplines—Hatha Yoga, the physical postures, breathing practices, deep relaxation and concentration, that we sampled this morning; Karma yoga, the path of selfless service; Bhakti Yoga, cultivating love and Devotion for the Divine or as Twelve Step groups express it—a higher power greater than the individual personality. Chanting as we sang this morning is one way to connect with the Divine or with the Source of wisdom and love within; Raja Yoga, the path of meditation and working with the thoughts in the mind to attain stillness and ultimate liberation; Jnana Yoga, the “path of wisdom”, “self analysis and awareness”. A“… synthesis of all Yogas” feels holistic and balanced to me (from Integral Yoga Hatha, preface xv and xvi).
Unitarian Universalists draw from many sources of wisdom—personal experiences with nature, perceptions we gather through our relationships or that we take in through our senses. The religions of the world dish up wisdom to sustain people through the rigors of life and on their spiritual journey. Some of us follow those paths wholeheartedly and with a good appetite. Others create new cuisines—a synthesis of this religion or that. This perplexes people who disdain our ‘a-la-cart’, ‘all-you-can-eat’ menu of hyphenated UU-isms, where we prefer to be seeking rather than certain. “Isn’t one religion good enough?” they ask. To be truthful, it frustrates some Unitarian Universalists as well.
And so Unitarian Universalism is not always an easy path to follow. It can seem amorphous and murky—weak in a depth of understanding. It was easier when I considered myself a Methodist growing up or a yogi as a young adult. With my ex-husband I went to a very liberal Reform Jewish Temple in Los Angeles at the same time that we practiced yoga. Then I immersed myself in Unitarian Universalism, so happy to find a religion that encouraged people to be lifelong learners. Then came taiji and qigong and now, Buddhism and mindfulness meditation. Layer upon layer upon layer. So it’s confusing--who are we anyway if we draw from different sources, if the road keeps getting wider and the smorgasbord more full, if we are always on the first step of a new way.
James Fowler, retired as a developmental psychologist, theology professor and minister, wrote about six stages of faith development (Stages of Faith: The Psychology of Human Development and the Quest for Meaning, 1981) that may help identify where we are faith-wise and how we can move from one stage to another with more fluidity and grace.
Many liberal religious folk reside in Stage 4, moving beyond seeing God as the old man in the sky and heaven and hell as literal places “…where you’re gonna go when you die” as the song goes. Reason and analysis help people examine their faith and issues of who is in authority and control. Yet it is possible to get stuck in Stage 4, to abnegate the first source of Unitarian Universalism—all the inexplicable mysteries and wonders that our wonderful brains want to interpret but can’t.
A person who moves to Stage 5 can be in dialogue with people from other religions, even though they differ. There is less a “reaction against”. There is something that is mutually beneficial from this cross pollination that feeds people on all sides. Stage 6, Universalizing Faith, is the province of those like Gandhi, King and Mother Teresa; people steeped in their own religion, willing to give everything and take great risks to serve the greater good.
Even a rudimentary understanding of these stages of faith formation may help us get unstuck when we easily identify what we don’t believe but we can’t articulate what we do believe.
Where are you in your faith development? And don’t fall back on the frequent reply, “I don’t have any faith.” Sure, you do. You question, you reflect, you care about others. You have certain moral principles you espouse. These are the building blocks of faith. How do we develop if we cut ourselves off from encounters with others who stand on separate but equally valid holy ground?
I believe we are a composite of all that we hold dear; all the stages, all the heartbreaks, all the life changes that stretch, bend or “grow” us. My Methodist Christian roots are foundational to the part of me that feels most healthy, whole and at one with the universe in every way when I practice the various aspects of yoga. And it is Unitarian Universalism with its deep roots in activist social justice and its encouragement of questioning that sends me back into the mystery, not knowing where the path ultimately will lead. At its very best this church leaves room for each person, in their own way, to fathom the mysteries, embrace a new stage in faith development, to find union with that inner light called by many different names.
We seek union through the balance of all the elements of a life; the physical, the mental, emotional and spiritual. There are few places where we can go to develop this balance, where we can bring all the parts of ourselves to be forged in the fire (the chalice, if you will) of thoughtful and conscious living and respect for our unity in diversity. This church is one of those safe places.
Here, we don’t simply explore the elements of head, heart, and spirit; we sincerely try to bring them into a balanced union; here, we cultivate a living, breathing experiment—how can people come together from varied backgrounds, theologies, perspectives and create a balanced community, build a new way? Building a new way requires each of us to contribute our energy and creative, resourceful sparks. When you contribute a portion of your treasure to this church you become part of the symmetry and vision that shapes it and determines what we can do for one another, our neighbors and, especially, the next generation that needs us, needs this church—that needs you.
May we be united in bringing what we have and what we can give so that the beauty, love and joy that is abundant here continues for many more generations.
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