Dan Harper | Sermons

  • New Religious Movements

    This sermon was preached by Rev. Dan Harper. As usual, the sermon below is a reading text. The actual sermon as preached contained ad libs, interjections, and other improvisation. Sermon copyright (c) 2006 Daniel Harper.

    Readings

    The first reading this morning comes from the book New Religions: A Guide: New Religious Movements, Sects, and Alternative Spiritualities, by Christopher Partridge:

    “While Christianity has gone into decline in the West, other religions — including smaller movements such as the Jehovah’s Witnesses and the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter Day Saints — and many alternative spiritualities, such as Paganism, are experiencing growth, often substantial growth. Indeed, Paganism is regularly reported as being Britain’s fastest-growing religious tradition. J. Gordon Melton, a leading scholar and chronicler of new religious movements, has noted [quote] ‘during the 20th century, the West experienced a phenomenon it has not encountered since the reign of Constantine: the growth of and significant visible presence of non-Christian and non-Orthodox Christian bodies competing for the religious allegiance of the public. This growth of so many alternatives religiously is forcing a new situation on the West in which the still-dominant Christian religion must share its centuries-old hegemony in a new pluralistic religious environment.’ [close quote] With very few exceptions, if you were to carry out a survey of the beliefs of people living within a five-mile radius of where you are now, you would come across a multitude of religious beliefs and practices, many of which will be new and eclectic. As well as the alternative religious groups, which can trace their origins directly back to one of the major world religions, there has been a proliferation of groups and movements that draw inspiration from a variety of sources.”

    The second reading this morning comes from an article in Rolling Stone magazine by journalist Janet Reitman, titled “Inside Scientology”:

    “…Scientology charges for virtually all of its religious services. Auditing is purchased in 12.5 hour blocks, known as “intensives.” Each intensive can cost anywhere from $750 for an introductory session to between $8,000 and $9,000 for advanced sessions. When asked about money, church officials can become defensive. “Do you want to know the real answer? If we could offer everything for free, we would do it,” says [Mark] Rinder [,director of Church of Scientology International’s Office of Special Affairs.] Another official offers, “We don’t have 2,000 years of acquired wealth to fall back on.” But Scientology isn’t alone, church leaders insist. Mormons, for example, expect members to tithe a tenth of their earnings.

    “…Clearing the stages [of Scientology] along the Bridge to Total Freedom is a process that can take years and cost tens and often hundreds of thousands of dollars — one veteran Scientologist told me she “donated” $250,000 in a twenty-year period. Other Scientologists can wind up spending family inheritances and mortgaging homes to pay the fees….”

    SERMON — “New Religious Movements”

    I have become fascinated with new religious movements. As someone who a part of a distinctly non-orthodox, post-Christian, religious tradition, I am fascinated with the idea that, for the first time since the time of the Roman emperor Constantine, we here in the West are living in a society that is seeing “the growth of and significant visible presence of non-Christian and non-Orthodox Christian bodies competing for the religious allegiance of the public.” In a way, we Unitarian Universalists are a part of this explosion of new religious movements.

    At times, however, my fascination is a horrified fascination. A number of the new religious movements that are now part of our religious landscape combine charismatic leadership, authoritarianism, power, and lots of money — a potent combination. Needless to say, the money becomes very important — but I’ll get to that later.

    My fascination has led me to spend some time exploring this emerging new world of new religious movements — and I believe my explorations have led me to better understand who we Unitarian Universalists are. That’s why I thought I’d share with you some of my explorations of new religious movements.

    The first step is to try to define a new religious movement. First of all, we’re not talking about “cults.” Religious scholars have a very precise definition of what “cult” means, and while some new religious movements are cults by this definition, most are not. In popular parlance, “cult” is a word merely a pejorative word used to describe religious movements you happen to despise — for example, in the Bible Belt Unitarian Universalism is sometimes called a “cult,” whereas some Unitarian Universalists have been known to call fundamentalist Christian groups “cults.” So I use the term “new religious movements,” which allows me to like some of them and not like others.

    How new is a new religious movement? Definitions vary. Some scholars say “new” means that the movement has come into prominence wince 1945; others say since 1960; still others are willing to include the past hundred years.

    Some new religious movements fall into a category called “alternative spiritualities.” Let me give you an example. Feminist spirituality cannot be defined as a religious movement; you don’t “belong” to feminist spirituality; it’s an alternative spirituality that you might happen to follow. Christopher Partridge in his book New Religions: A Guide puts it this way: “Arguably, one of the more significant developments in particularly Western religious adherence is the emergence of private, non-institutional forms of belief and practice…. There is a move away from a ‘religion’ that focuses on things that are considered external to the self… to ‘spirituality’ — that which focuses on ‘the self’ and is personal and interior.” However, some alternative spiritualities — feminist and eco-feminist spiritualities, for example — don’t focus so much on the self, and are often practiced within an established religious movement.

    All right, we’ve got the definitions out of the way. And at this point, an obvious question comes up: is Unitarian Universalism a new religious movement? And the answer is no, but maybe yes.

    No, we are not a new religious movement, because we’re not new. In North America, there have been people calling themselves Universalists since at least 1770. There have been Unitarians in North America since 1785, and in Europe since about 1550. And no, we’re not a new religious movement, because we’re better defined as a traditional denomination.

    Or maybe yes, we are a new religious movement. The most important element of Unitarian Universalism in the past forty years has been feminist and eco-feminist spiritualities. For some people, Unitarian Universalism today is defined by the so-called “seven principles,” and those seven principles are the result of the feminist movement within Unitarian Universalism. And Unitarian Universalism represents the merger of two denominations, the Unitarians and the Universalists, in 1961, which may make us a new religion. So maybe we are a kind of new religious movement ourselves. Maybe.

    Most new religious movements are pretty innocuous, but a few others combine charismatic leadership, authoritarianism, power, and money in ways that can seem a little troubling. Let’s take a look at one such new religious movement, the Church of Scientology. I pick them only because they’ve been in the news recently.

    The Church of Scientology was founded by L. Ron Hubbard, a science fiction writer who was, by all accounts, a pretty charismatic guy. Hubbard decided to found his own religion back in the 1950’s, which he wound up calling Scientology; and to increase the charisma of his group, he started wooing celebrities. This deliberate policy has brought charismatic celebrities like John Travolta, Kirstie Alley, Chick Corea, Isaac Hayes, and, most famously, Tom Cruise, into Scientology. So there we have charisma.

    Then there’s the authoritarianism. According to a recent article by Janet Reitman in Rolling Stone magazine, the Church of Scientology maintains a quasi-military organization called “Sea Org,” complete with uniforms, boot-camp-style training, and regimentation. When members leave Scientology, under Church rules their family and friends who are Scientologists sever all contact with them. And Scientology lashes out at critics: famously, founder L. Ron Hubbard said anyone who criticized Scientology could be “tricked, sued, or lied to and destroyed”; and the Church continues to lash out at critics, as the recent fuss over the “South Park” television show demonstrates.

    Scientology also has lots of money. The Church owns 500 acres in southern California where they entertain celebrities, a big part of Clearwater, Florida, and lots more real estate besides. They get their money through by charging for religious services. “Rolling Stone” reporter Janet Reitman went to a Scientology church in Manhattan. A woman sat down with her, asked about her personal problems, and said that Reitman could use an introductory seminar for $50 and a starter kit for $100. Rietman went back a few days later for a free “auditing” session, which revealed that she could benefit from an auditing “intensive” for $2,000, and a purification cleanse for another $2,000. That’s $4,150 for the first few months as a Scientologist! In her article published March 9, Reitman reports that one long-term Scientologist said that she had paid $250,000 to the church over twenty years — and that’s not uncommon.

    Charisma, authoritarianism, and money — when these exist in a new religious movement, they can be a potent force. Of course, these do not exist in all new religious movements. I’ve already spoken of my own affinity for eco-feminist spirituality, another new religious movement. Eco-feminist spirituality does not have a charismatic leader; indeed, it is critical of central charismatic leaders. Eco-feminist spirituality is decentralized, and the exact opposite of authoritarian. Nor is there much money to be gained from eco-feminist spirituality. You’ll find many of the same characteristics in neo-Paganism: no central charismatic leader; decentralization rather than authoritarianism; and not much money. If Unitarian Universalism is a new religious movement, as some claim we are, we are this latter kind of new religious movement: decentralized, non-authoritarian, relying on individual conscience rather than a central leader.

    Reading about and examining new religious movements has helped me better understand Unitarian Universalism; it’s like looking into a mirror to see how others might perceive us. When I look at Scientology, when I look at how they get money and how they run their church, it helps me to see, to better understand, who we are as a Unitarian Universalists.

    I believe we Unitarian Universalists look pretty good compared to a new religious movement like Scientology. We don’t charge huge fees to come to worship services; we ask for voluntary contributions from members and friends, but if you can’t give this church any money, that’s OK. If you do give money to this church, the amount is set by you, not by the church. Finally, the operating budget for this church is determined through democratic process; the budget is not set in some secretive central organization.

    On the other hand, when I read about how much money Scientology has, it does make me wonder. Unitarian Universalism has been starved for money for years. Our church keeps drawing down its endowment because we can’t meet operating expenses through voluntary contributions. When I was called as your minister last spring, you told me that one of the things you hoped for was that this church would become a voice for liberal religion in the South Coast region; that’s still our goal; but the reality is that we’re going to have a hard time paying our heating bills next winter, let alone be organized enough to stand up for liberal religion.

    Turning from money to authoritarianism, on the one hand we Unitarian Universalists look pretty good compared to a group like the Scientologists. We insist on the right of individual conscience, and we have developed this great system of decentralized democracy that allows individual conscience to flourish while still maintaining a strong organization. On the other hand, I believe that our fear of becoming authoritarian has resulted in us starving our church and our denomination for money. After all, if we don’t give our church any money, our church can’t do anything bad, right? — but that also means that our church can’t do much good, either.

    Some people are beginning to worry that if we keep our voluntary contributions so low, we’re going to put ourselves right out of business. I’ve heard various doomsday scenarios predicting that Unitarian Universalism is going to fade out in another generation. While I feel that prediction is too extreme, it’s hard for me to accept the fact that we have a fraction of the power and money of the Scientologists, even though they’re the same size as us.

    As I said before, looking at new religious movements proves to be a sort of mirror in which we can see ourselves better. Right now, the authoritarian religions appear quite wealthy and quite powerful, while decentralized democratic religions appear poor and less powerful. Even though Unitarian Universalists and neo-Pagans and other similar groups attract more newcomers, we lack the power and influence of some of the authoritarian groups. It’s almost as if we religious liberals are bent on proving that unhealthy charisma and authoritarianism are the way to go. It would seem to make more sense to fund ourselves adequately, and do the work required to maintain our decentralized democracy.

    Personally, I still believe that decentralized, democratic, liberal religion can and does work better than any other kind of religious approach. And I still believe liberal religion should be a powerful voice in our community, in this country, and in the world. Because of these beliefs, my individual conscience tells me to voluntarily give five percent of my gross income to Unitarian Universalism. Because I believe that where you put your money tells a lot about what you believe.

    What do you believe?

  • Buddha’s Sermons

    This sermon was preached by Rev. Dan Harper. As usual, the sermon below is a reading text. The actual sermon as preached contained ad libs, interjections, and other improvisation. Sermon copyright (c) 2006 Daniel Harper.

    Responsive reading

    Siddhartha Gotama, the Buddha, said: “There are two extremes which a religious seeker should not follow:

    “On the one hand, there are those things whose attraction depends upon the passions, unworthy, unprofitable, and fit only for the worldly-minded;

    “On the other hand, there is the practice of self-mortification and asceticism, which is painful, unworthy, and unprofitable.

    “There is a middle path, avoiding these two extremes — a path which opens the eyes, and bestows understanding, which leads to peace of mind, to higher wisdom, to full enlightenment.

    “What is that middle path? It is the noble eightfold path:

    “Right views, right aspirations, right speech, right conduct;

    “Right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right contemplation.

    “This is the middle path. This is the noble truth that leads to the destruction of sorrow.”

    This noble truth was not among the religious doctrines handed down. But within the Buddha there arose the eye to perceive this truth, the knowledge of its nature, the understanding of it, the wisdom to guide others.

    Once this knowledge and this insight had arisen within Buddha;

    He went to speak it to others, that others might realize the same enlightenment.

    adapted from T. W. Rhys Davids’s translation of the Dharma-Chakra-Pravartana Sutra [1881]

    Readings

    The first reading is from Dhamma-Kakka-Ppavattana Sutta, translated by T. W. Rhys Davids [1881]:

    8. “Now this, O Bhikkhus, is the noble truth concerning the way which leads to the destruction of sorrow. Verily! it is this noble eightfold path; that is to say:

    “Right views; Right aspirations; Right speech; Right conduct; Right livelihood; Right effort; Right mindfulness; and Right contemplation.

    “This then, O Bhikkhus, is the noble truth concerning the destruction of sorrow.

    9. “That this was the noble truth concerning sorrow, was not, O Bhikkhus, among the doctrines handed down, but there arose within me the eye (to perceive it), there arose the knowledge (of its nature), there arose the understanding (of its cause), there arose the wisdom (to guide in the path of tranquillity), there arose the light (to dispel darkness from it).

    The second reading this morning is from an essay titled “The Historic Buddha” by P. Lakshmi Narasu.

    “The [Buddha’s] method of exposition differed entirely from those of the brahmans. Far from presenting his thoughts under the concise form so characteristic of the Brahmans, he imparted his teachings in the form of sermons. Instead of mysterious teachings confided almost in secret to a small number, he spoke to large audiences composed of all those who desired to hear him. He spoke in a manner intelligible to all, and tried by frequent repetitions to impress his meaning on the least attentive minds and the most rebellious memories. He adapted himself to the capacities of his hearers….” [in A Buddhist Bible, ed. Dwight Goddard, p. 16]

    SERMON — “Buddha’s Sermons”

    If you were here last week, you heard me tell about how Siddhartha Gotama sat in meditation under the Bodhi tree, and finally achieved Enlightenment.

    Let me quickly review the story for you: Siddartha Gotama was the son of a king, a prince poised to inherit his father’s vast and wealthy kingdom. But Siddartha became troubled by the problem of suffering: why is it that we human beings must suffer? In search of an answer, Siddartha Gotama left the palace, left his life of ease, and went to live in the woods with the other religious seekers. At first he tried the usual methods of religious seekers in those days: he sought our religious teachers (none of whom he found satisfactory), he went to live in a temple (but was disgusted by the animal sacrifices and attendant cruelty), and finally he lived in the forest for six years with five other religious seekers who all worked hard at “keeping their senses in check, subduing their passions, and practicing austere penance” [Narusa, p. 7]. To put it more plainly, Siddhartha Gotama ate as little as possible, to the point where he almost died of starvation; at which point he realized that if he died from starvation, he wasn’t going to get any closer to whatever spiritual answer it was that he sought.

    So Siddhartha Gotama went to sit in meditation under the Bodhi tree, or the tree of enlightenment. And while he sat there in meditation, he reached enlightenment. Not that I am altogether clear on what, exactly, enlightenment is; but it seems clear that Siddhartha Gotama somehow achieved a direct insight into the nature of reality, an insight which allowed him to understand the nature of suffering and allowed him to be released from further suffering. Upon which, he got up and walked back to where he had left his five companions.

    When his five companions saw Siddhartha Gotama walking towards them, at first they didn’t want to talk with him. After all, he had broken their vows of austerity, and they assumed he had gone back to living a normal life. But when he approached, he seemed a changed man, and they greeted him by name. But he replied that they should no longer call him Siddhartha Gotama, for he had achieved enlightenment. Now he should be called a Buddha, an Enlightened One. And then immediately, according to ancient Buddhist tradition, the Buddha preached his first great sermon to these five religious seekers.

    In this sermon, — which is known as the Dharma-Chakra-Pravartana Sutra — Buddha gave the first comprehensive statement of how all human beings can achieve enlightenment, just as he did. He starts off by saying that there are two extreme approaches to spirituality. He said:

    “There are two extremes, O Bhikkus [a “bhikku” is a follower of Buddha], which the religious person, one who has reunounced wordly things, should not follow: –on the one hand, the habitual practice of those things whose attraction depends on upon the passions, especially anything having to do with sensuality; –on the other hand, self-mortification and asceticism, which is painful, unworthy, and unprofitable.” [paraphrased from the Dharma-Chakra-Pravartana Sutra].

    To his five listeners, Buddha preached further that: “There is a middle path,… avoiding these two extremes… a path which opens the eyes, and bestows understanding, which leads to peace of mind, to the higher wisdom, to full enlightenment.”

    So it was that almost as soon as Buddha had achieved enlightenment, he promptly went and told others how they, too, could find release from suffering. Not only that, but Buddha made it quite clear that he spoke from direct experience. He was not repeating to them some received tradition; he was not passing on what others had said. He spoke from what he knew directly, saying: “This… noble truth concerning sorrow, was not… among the doctrines handed down, but there arose within me the eye (to perceive it), there arose within me the knowledge (of its nature)….”

    Somehow, Buddha got a direct insight into the way the universe works, an insight which did not come from tradition. It was an insight which came fresh from the universe. I won’t say it was a new insight never before realized by humankind, but it was an insight direct from what I’d call the light of the ages; and within Buddha arose the capacity with which to grasp this essential truth.

    Buddha preached about this insight to his five friends in his very first sermon, and a remarkable thing happened. He told about his insight with much repetition, which of course is the natural thing to do when you are speaking aloud, for sermons and speeches should always be filled with repetition; although let’s just say that this first sermon of Buddha’s had rather a lot of repetition; this first sermon of Buddha’s was, shall we say, a little slow and redundant. Maybe even a little boring. Yet at the end of the sermon, a remarkable thing happened: Kondanna, one of the five people listening, achieved enlightenment.

    Which is why Buddha ended his first sermon in a very unusual fashion, saying: “Kondanna has realized it. Kondanna has realized it!” The sermon may have been a little boring, but there was something in it that went to the hearts of his listeners, and led one of them, Kondanna, to instantaneously realize his full religious potential.

    Speaking as a preacher, I would be pleased as Punch if one of my sermons ever led anyone to enlightenment. I would be just as pleased if one of my sermons would lead me to enlightenment. Indeed, I wish at least one of the hundreds of sermons I’ve listened to over the years could have brought me to full realization of my religious potential.

    Yet even though sermons in my world don’t lead to instantaneous enlightenment, something powerful can and does happen when you sit together with other people and listen to a sermon. Something powerful can happen even when the sermon, or the preacher, is boring, or redundant. Some months ago, I sat and listened to a fairly boring sermon, yet I left that worship service feeling a million times better than I had felt when I went in; the experience is with me still. It wasn’t the content of the sermon that moved me; it wasn’t the preacher’s technique, for he was just an average preacher; but something moved me.

    Here’s what I think happens when you listen to a sermon.

    First of all, there is the feeling that comes to you when you sit together in a community of religious seekers — a community of people who have come together as they try to figure out how to make sense out of an absurd world. When you’re sitting together with such a community, you can put aside ordinary, mundane concerns; you can focus on your deepest spiritual concerns. Being with other people helps that focus. One of the most powerful worship services I ever attended was a Quaker meeting, a silent meeting for worship in which no one was moved to stand and speak; yet the silence of that group of people, that group of religious seekers sitting together, was as powerful as any sermon I’ve ever heard. So being together in religious community is the first thing that happens.

    Second, there’s something powerful about sitting and listening to a real live person speaking to you. When you sit and listen to a real live person — when hear the words coming from their mouth, still warm from their breath — there’s this direct connection between you and that person that you just can’t get by watching television, playing video games, or surfing the web. Not that I have anything against those activities, for heaven knows I spend far too much of my spare time surfing the Web. Sitting and listening to a real live person speak is, or can be, infinitely more powerful; there’s a direct, embodied connection with that person’s words.

    And finally, there’s something very powerful about taking the time out of your busy life to sit and listen to someone talk about what is most important in life. You set aside time to think upon what is most important; the preacher and the congregation consider that which is most important in the universe; between you and the congregation and the preacher, something happens that is worth listening to.

    I don’t know what enlightenment is, but I’ll venture a guess: enlightenment is something that happens in the intersection of you; the light of the ages; and your religious community. To see how this might be so, let’s get back to the story.

    Buddha finished his first sermon, and immediately Kondanna achieves enlightenment. The Dharma-Chakra-Pravartana Sutra tells us what happened next:

    “The gods of the earth gave forth a shout, saying:

    “In Benares… the supreme wheel of the empire of Truth has been set rolling by the Buddha — that wheel which no one, not any Brahman, not any god, not anyone in the universe, can ever turn back!

    “And when they heard the shout of the gods of the earth, the guardian angels of the four quarters of the globe gave forth a shout, saying:

    “In Benares… the supreme wheel of the empire of Truth has been set rolling by the Buddha — that wheel which no one, not any priest, not any god, not anyone in the universe, can ever turn back!…”

    If you think about it, that’s quite a bit of shouting! But there was more noise to come:

    “And thus, in an instant, a second, a moment, the sound went up even to the world of Brahma [who was considered the ultimate god]: and this great ten-thousand-world-system quaked and trembled and was shaken violently, and an immeasurable great light appeared in the universe, beyond even the power of the gods!

    “And the Buddha gave this exclamation of joy: ‘Kondanna has realized enlightenment. Kondanna has realized it!’”

    And what caused all this commotion? What caused this outpouring of religious enthusiasm? Three things caused this outpouring of the universe: the Buddha, the enlightened one, both as an actual person and as the potential for religious greatness in each of us; the Dharma, or Buddha’s sermon or teaching about truth; and the Sangha, or the spiritual community as symbolized in the enlightenment of Kondanna.

    When we Unitarian Universalists think of religion or spirituality, we are tempted to think that religion and spirituality are things that we can do entirely on our own. We are religious individualists; we like to think we can be religious do-it-yourselfers. We like to think that we can sit down with a popular book about Buddhism, and achieve enlightenment on our own. But Buddhism, and indeed every great religious tradition, teaches us that the capacity for religious greatness which is truly within us is, in of itself, insufficient. Of course we know pretty well we can’t realize that capacity for greatness within, that inherent Buddhahood, without reference to the Dharma, the great truths of the universe. But no more can we realize the greatness within ourselves if we don’t have a spiritual community. That’s why we come to church. That’s why we invest all this time into maintaining and building a religious community. That’s what a sermon really is: it isn’t a lecture, it isn’t an intriguing title posted on the sign outside the church, it’s an embodied version of the great Truth of the universe, and of the potential within each of us to know that truth.

    Before I close, I want to leave you with one last thought. Our spiritual community goes beyond the people who are sitting here this morning. Our spiritual community goes beyond the other members and friends of this church who can’t be here this morning. Our spiritual community even goes beyond the community of all humankind.

    Remember that when Buddha finished his sermon, when Kondanna suddenly achieved enlightenment, the whole of earth shook and the gods of earth shouted in praise. The poet Gary Snyder, an American Buddhist, writes that “human beings… will wish to include the non-human in their sense of community…. Our community does not end at the human boundaries; we are in a community with certain trees, plants, birds, animals. The conversation is with the whole thing.”

    Remember that Siddhartha Gotama became the Buddha, the enlightened one, by sitting down under a tree to meditate. The tree was a part of his meditations; he was a part of the meditations of the whole forest; the conversation got taken up by the whole universe.

    Though we are Unitarian Universalists and not Buddhists, this we can learn from Gary Snyder and other Buddhists: we are nothing without our community, and our community includes the human beings in this room, all of humankind, and indeed all living beings and the whole of earth. A sermon is nothing without a community; a community can meld Truth into a boring sermon making it into something truly enlightening. When we can finally expand our community to include all living beings we will expand what we can know of the truth to its fullest extent.

    So may enlightenment come to us all — whatever enlightenment may be.

  • Buddha Sitting Alone

    This sermon was preached by Rev. Dan Harper. As usual, the sermon below is a reading text. The actual sermon as preached contained ad libs, interjections, and other improvisation. Sermon and story copyright (c) 2006 Daniel Harper.

    Readings

    The first reading is from the Anapanasati Sutta, or the the Sutra on the Full Awareness of Breathing, translated from the Pali by Thich Nhat Hanh:

    “What is the way to develop and practice continuously the method of Full Awareness of Breathing so that the practice will be rewarding and offer great benefit?

    “It is like this…: the practitioner goes into the forest or to the foot of a tree, or to any deserted place, and sits stably in the lotus position, holding his body quite straight. Breathing in, he knows that he is breathing in; and breathing out, he knows that he is breathing out.” [p. 6]

    The second reading this morning is from a commentary on the Anapanasati Sutta written by the Vietnamese Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh:

    “The second section is the heart of the sutra. This section elaborates the sixteen methods of Fully Aware Breathing in connection with the Four Foundations of Mindfulness.

    “In [the first and second methods], the object of awareness is the breath itself. The mind of the one who is breathing is the subject, and his or her breathing is the object. These breaths may be short, long, heavy, or light. We see that our breathing affects our mind, and our mind affects our breathing. The mind and the breath become one. We also see that breathing is an aspect of the body and that awareness of breathing is also awareness of the body.

    “In the third method, the breath is connected with the whole body, not just a part of it. Awareness of the breathing is, at the same time, awareness of the entire body. The mind, the breath, and the whole body are one.

    “In the fourth breathing method, the body’s functions begin calming down. The calming of the breath is accompanied by the claming of the body and the mind. The mind, the breathing, and the body are each calmed down equally.

    “In just four breathing exercises, we can realize oneness of body and mind. Breathing is an excellent tool for establishing calmness and evenmindedness.” [pp. 26-27]

    Story for all ages — Teaching How To Breathe

    After he had perfected the practice of meditation, Buddha taught many other men and women how to meditate. Soon he had followers, called “bhikkus.” At the time of this story, about four hundred of his followers lived with Buddha in a retreat center in the middle of Eastern Park, which was a beautiful open space, dotted with trees, located in the town of Savatthi. Here is how they lived together:

    Every day, everyone who lived in the retreat center got up and sat together meditating. The more experienced bhikkus, who had lived with Buddha the longest, helped teach the newer bhikkus how to meditate. After the meditation time was over, all the bhikkus would take a bowl and head into town to beg for food. They would all come back to the retreat center before noontime. Before they ate, some of the older, more experienced bhikkus would give a lecture to any townspeople who came by. Then everyone would eat.

    After lunch, Buddha and all the bhikkus would go find a cool shady grove of trees. They would all sit together in the shade of the trees, and Buddha would give a talk, telling them how to be better people. Sometimes, when the moon was full, they would all stay up late and Buddha would give another talk in the moonlight.

    One day, hundreds more of Buddha’s followers traveled to the retreat center in Eastern Park in the town of Savatthi. Soon there were over a thousand bhikkus, over a thousand followers of Buddha, all gathered together. It was the time of the full moon, and that evening, all the bhikkus gathered together outside to hear Buddha tell them how to meditate. Of course, all the bhikkus were already learning how to meditate, and practicing meditation every day. But for the first time, Buddha described his whole system of meditation from start to finish.

    Here’s what Buddha said:

    “When it’s time for you to meditate, bhikkus, go out and sit at the foot of a tree; or if you don’t live here with us in Eastern Park, just find a nice quiet place where you won’t be disturbed.

    “Then sit down on the ground. Sit in the lotus position, that is, sit with your left foot on your right thigh, and your right foot on your left thigh. Be sure you hold your body straight.

    “As you sit there, pay attention to your breathing. When you are breathing in, know that you are breathing in. When you are breathing out, know that you are breathing out.

    Buddha kept talking in his calm, peaceful voice, describing in great detail how to meditate. He said:

    “As you are breathing in and out, become aware of your whole body.

    “As you are breathing in and out, let your breathing make your whole body calm and at peace.

    “As you are breathing in and out, let yourself be full of joy.

    “As you breathe in and out, let yourself feel happy.

    “As you breathe in and out, let yourself be aware that your mind is active.

    “As you breathe in and out, let your active mind become calm and peaceful.

    “As you breathe in and out, let your mind become happy and peaceful.

    “As you breathe in and out, concentrate your mind. Liberate your mind.”

    Buddha kept talking in his calm, peaceful voice for over an hour. Everyone sat in stillness in the moonlight and listened. Everyone, all Buddha’s followers, felt calm and peaceful.

    This is how Buddha taught his followers how to meditate. There are many people in the world today who still follow Buddha’s teachings; they are called Buddhists. We are not Buddhists, we are Unitarian Universalists; but we Unitarian Universalists have learned a lot about meditation from Buddha. In fact, I think every Unitarian Universalist child should learn how to meditate, just as every Unitarian Universalist child should memorize a couple of simple prayers. When I was a Unitarian Universalist teenager, I learned how to meditate, I meditated regularly for more than a decade, and I still meditate sometimes.

    In Sunday school over the next month or so, the children will be hearing stories about Buddha, and they will be learning how to sit quietly and do some simple meditation; and Emma and I will be sending home a little booklet to families with children that tells parents how to introduce silent meditation at home. And perhaps we should have an adult education session on how to meditate, because it’s not a bad idea for Unitarian Universalist adults to learn how to meditate, too!

    SERMON — “Buddha Sitting Alone”

    Let me start off by saying something not entirely popular: I am not a big fan of Buddhism. In some Unitarian Universalist circles, I think Buddhism seems less messy than Christianity somehow; for some Unitarian Universalists, Christianity carries with it all kinds of unpleasant memories, and so, I think, Buddhism has become more popular among us.

    I find, however, that I am just as critical of Buddhism as of Christianity. Buddhism, historically, has inclined its followers to varieties of passivity and quietism; and thus Buddhism has something of a history of bowing down to dictators and tyrannical regimes. Buddhism has also led its followers to excesses of superstition that equal any of the superstitions promoted by Christianity; superstitions that seem to me to be designed in large part to keep poorer people docile and unable to alter their lower status. Therefore, I believe that we religious liberals have to look at Buddhism with the same kind of critical and jaundiced eyes that we use to look at Christianity.

    Asking a Unitarian Universalist to be critical is a little like asking a hungry cat to eat a fillet of salmon. If you lay a nice piece of fish before a cat, he or she will not hesitate to begin eating; because the cat knows all too well that fillets of salmon do not appear in one’s food dish every day. If you give a Unitarian Universalist an opportunity to be critical, he or she will not hesitate to bring to bear the faculties of reason and critical thinking; because the Unitarian Universalist knows that such dainties are not always placed within easy reach. So go ahead, be critical, and enjoy it as much as the cat enjoys eating the salmon fillet.

    Having said that, there is no reason for us to be too critical. I have found many things in the Buddhist tradition to be of great value. And perhaps the greatest gift that Buddhism gives to the world is its deep understanding of the practice of meditation. Now I suspect that meditation has been a human practice for at least some individuals for as long as human beings have existed. There is something in some of us that longs to sit in stillness; there is something in us that longs for the peace and clarity that meditative practices can bring. But the Buddhists, even more than the Hindus and Yogis, even more than the mystics and meditators in every religious tradition, seem to me to have found the deepest and simplest truths about meditation.

    We heard the core of the Buddhist insight into meditation in the first reading this morning. It was Siddartha Gotama, better known by his religious title, the Buddha, or the Enlightened One, who formulated a relatively simple yet rich and flexible method for meditation. At the most basic level, Buddha taught us to simply sit and pay attention to our breathing. That’s it. That’s all you have to do. Sit down, and pay attention to your breathing.

    The story of how the Buddha reached this powerful understanding is worth retelling. Here’s what happened:

    Siddhartha Gotama was born a prince, and the heir to his father’s vast kingdom. From his birth, everyone knew he was going to be a special person. His father was sure Siddhartha would grow up to be an even greater king than himself; but other people predicted that baby Siddhartha had all the marks of becoming some kind of religious genius. Needless to say, the king did not want his baby son to turn to religion, for in that land the religious personages were ascetics who renounced worldly things like palaces and kingdoms.

    So the king protected his little son carefully. Above all, the king made sure that little Siddhartha never saw anyone who with a serious illness, anyone who was old and infirm, anyone who was dead, or anyone who had to beg for a living. (Sounds like the United States, doesn’t it? — hide away the sick, the elderly, the dead, and the homeless — that way we don’t have to think about difficult issues. But let’s get back to Buddha.)

    Well, of course Siddhartha grew up to be a young man, and in spite of the king’s best efforts Siddhartha wound up seeing someone who was sick, someone who was elderly, a dead body, and a homeless beggar. Seeing people who were suffering, or who had suffered, raised all kinds of questions in Siddhartha’s mind. He felt the suffering of others so keenly, he found himself in the midst of a spiritual crisis. He decided he must go join one of the religious groups who lived in the woods, and in the dark of the night he slipped away from home, leaving behind his wife and his baby boy.

    He went and lived in the woods with some pretty wild-eyed religious types, who believed that the truly religious person should sleep out in the open, wear rags, and eat as little food as possible. I don’t believe they bathed much, either. And they sat for hours in meditation, to the point where it must have seemed more like self-punishment than calming the mind. Soon Prince Siddhartha had lost so much weight he was little more than skin and bones; but he discovered that he was no closer to achieving deep religious understanding than before.

    To make a long story short, Siddhartha gave up the more extreme religious practices, and began to work out some things on his own. He still meditated regularly, but he no longer tried to deny his physical body: no more starving himself to death. And he kept working on the problem of suffering.

    One day, Siddhartha was meditating while sitting at the foot of a Bodhi tree. While he sat there, he achieved some kind of mental state that he later called “enlightenment.” Later, he tried to describe what it means to be enlightened. As I understand it (and I have to say that I do not understand it particularly well), enlightenment means a state of being where suffering disappears; enlightenment also means a state of being where one’s mind is always calm and peaceful. And once Siddhartha Gotama had achieved this state of enlightenment, he was entitled to be called the Buddha, which means, the enlightened one.

    In this story, I find a few very interesting points. First, Buddha discovered that meditating led to some kind of release from suffering. Second, meditation helps you attain a calm and peaceful state of mind. Third, meditation is really something that anyone can do, something that requires practice but not inhuman devotion. Fourth, and this fourth point is a little vague but bear with me, Buddha discovered all this while sitting alone under a tree. Let me examine each of these points one by one.

    Buddha discovered that meditating can help release us from suffering. Now, the Buddhist tradition as I understand it makes the large claim that you can train yourself to transcend all suffering by achieving “nirvana,” which means nothingness. I’m a little skeptical of this nirvana idea — sure, I can rid myself of all suffering by achieving nothingness; nothingness would logically imply nothing at all including both no suffering and no pleasure — yet I also admit that I don’t fully understand the concept of nirvana. Nonetheless, I know from having tried meditation myself that you really can be released from a certain amount of suffering through meditation. I don’t have a good explanation for why this is so, but perhaps meditation helps with suffering because it brings calm and peace to you.

    Which brings us to the second point: meditation helps you achieve and calm and peaceful state of mind. I recall an extremely stressful time in my life: not enough money, personal tragedy, professional crisis, the works. I was so stressed out I couldn’t sleep at night. I hate to think of what my blood pressure was. This was when I was no longer meditating regularly, but finally the stress got so bad I decided to try meditation.

    Now in my experience, learning how to meditate is a little like learning how to ride a bicycle: once you learn how, you never really forget; you may not be in shape to ride thirty miles the first time back on your bike, but you still know how to ride it. At that stressful time in my life, I went back to meditating, and immediately lowered my stress level, immediately became calmer and more peaceful. Indeed, this is why I think that every Unitarian Universalist kid should learn how to meditate: at some point in their lives, they will find themselves in a situation in which they will be glad to know how to meditate.

    And that brings us to the third point: meditation is really quite simple, so simple even a child can do it. I’ve seen four-year olds who know some basic meditation technique. I’ve seen people well along in years take up meditation successfully. This is one of Buddha’s great insights: anyone can learn how to meditate. All you have to do is pay attention to your breath. Of course, Buddha went far beyond the simplest meditation techniques, but it’s all based on the simple idea of sitting quietly and paying attention to your breathing.

    Which brings us at last to the final point: Buddha made his great discoveries about meditation while sitting alone outdoors at the foot of a tree. Meditation is essentially a solitary activity. You learn how to do it from someone else; you can sit in meditation with dozens of other people, as happens for example in the Zen Buddhist Zendo; you can talk about meditation with others. But the basic act of meditation happens with you sitting quietly, in a place where you won’t be disturbed. Certainly you will meditate better if someone teaches you how first. I have found that meditating in a room with other people can be a powerful experience. And I find it helpful to discuss meditation, as I am doing here with you this morning. But the actual act of meditation is something you have to do yourself; and in some measure, you are always meditating alone.

    Not only that, Buddha made his great discoveries about meditation while sitting alone, and outdoors under a tree. The Buddhist scriptures are careful to let us know that Buddha was sitting outdoors when he achieved enlightenment; he was not sitting in a meditation ahll, he was not sitting in some religious building, he was sitting outdoors. Not only that, but the Buddhist scriptures carefully inform us as to the species of tree under which Buddha sat when he achieved enlightenment.

    Why is it so important that we know the Buddha was sitting outdoors under a Bodhi tree? I don’t have a firm answer to that question, but I do know this. I have found that I had the most powerful experiences meditating while meditating outdoors. I know I have found that sitting outdoors can make meditation a more powerful experience; and I think this is related to the importance of sitting alone, that is, sitting away from the distractions of other human beings. As human beings, we need other human beings; but being around other human beings seems to set our minds working in well-defined paths. By sitting alone, I think it’s easier to feel our connection with all living beings, our essential connection with the whole universe.