Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Briarcliff, Croton, and Ossining

Searching For Serenity

Given by James Covington on September 10th, 2006

Well, here we are again, after a brief summer reprieve from Fellowship activities. Schools are open and children are returning eager to learn, no doubt. Weather has broken a bit, as we say in the South. Already, it feels like autumn and I welcome that. Two weeks ago, Suzanne and I traveled to Atlanta to accompany our college-bound daughter, Alexandra, to that “Ivy League” southern campus of Emory University, to help her set things up in her designated dormitory and decorate her colorless concrete block room.

I don’t know who was more excited about being on a college campus, Alexandra or me! My, my, how I wish age related events could be reversed, you know, and allow people to enroll in college only after they are 60. Alexandra is taking a course called “International Politics.” Imagine that! How could an 18 year old be interested in international politics? How I envy her!

Instead, Suzanne and I returned home, to begin a new stage of our relationship–what is commonly called the “empty nest.” So, instead of writing a paper on international politics, perhaps I will be writing one about the politics of adapting to an empty nest with one’s spouse!

Prior to our journey to Atlanta, Suzanne and I had just returned from a vacation to Scandinavia via a cruise ship from Dover, England, where we visited the cities and country sides of Norway, Sweden, Estonia, Finland, and St. Petersburg, Russia. We were scheduled to leave JFK on July 18 at 6:00 p.m. Of course, when we arrived there, I was reminded of the last time we had embarked on a plane to a faraway land–when it took us three days and three aborted flights before we finally became airborne.

This was July, however, very hot, muggy–the hottest day of the summer, in fact. So we were more than happy knowing we would soon be arriving cooler climes of England and Scandinavia. We promptly found our assigned seats on the plane and buckled up and prepared ourselves for a restful flight. A few minutes passed the scheduled departure time. No big deal, of course, par for the course. A few more minute passed by and the captain introduced himself on the intercom: “This is your captain speaking. I apologize but we have just been notified that our departure will be slightly delayed. We are not sure why, but I am sure we will be notified shortly.”

Suzanne and I just glanced at each other. Raised an eyebrow. We knew what the other was thinking, but dared not say it. “This can’t be happening! Nah!” A few minutes more passed by before we heard from the captain again: “So sorry about this delay folks, but we are still waiting for further notification. Traffic seems to be quite heavy. No explanation has been offered to us yet, but we will let you know as soon as we learn something.”

A half hour passed. Still no explanation, no movement. Another half hour. The captain announced that for some reason traffic is backed up and that it will probably be at least another hour before the plane departs. Well. . . Suzanne and I incredulously stared at each other. Is this déjà vu all over again!? Still no explanation from the captain. It’s a mystery! Are there terrorists on board? Has a plane crashed? Has the city been bombed?

Our plane was scheduled to leave at 6:00 p.m. Finally, at 9:00 p.m., we ascended into the air, safely. We held our breaths for awhile, anticipating that perhaps the plane would have to turn around in mid-air and return–but it didn’t. Oh, yes, just as we were about to approach the runway for takeoff, the captain finally informed us that because of the hot weather in New York, apparently there had been some sort of electrical power outage, a blackout in the area, which had caused all flights from La Guardia airport to be cancelled and subsequently caused delays at JFK.

And there you have it! The pilot was profusely apologetic, promised to make up for some of the lost time, which he did–one hour–and so we landed in London only 2 hours late, relieved to be alive and safe and far away from the oppressive heat of New York. As we climbed into a taxi bound for our hotel in London, we were informed by the driver that he hoped we would have air conditioning at our hotel, because London, the day before, had just recorded the hottest day in its history!

Give me a break, please! No good vacation goes unpunished.

Well, after a couple of days in London we had to drive to Dover, where our Crystal Cruise ship, Serenity, awaited our boarding and prepared to set sail. I was struck by the name, Serenity. Would this have some special meaning for us? Would we finally be able to find a little peace and calm and air conditioning and pleasant outdoor temperature? Well, we made the trip to Dover without incident, on time, and boarded this magnificent cruise ship. If you had told me in recent years that I would soon be sailing the high seas aboard a cruise ship, I would have undoubtedly looked askance at you, even commenting contemptuously: “Me! On a cruise ship? No way! Not only could I never afford it, but I don’t choose to be stuck with stuffy cruise passengers with whom I undoubtedly would have nothing in common!”

Well, when one’s wife is in the travel business, it is interesting how that attitude can suddenly change! It was a lovely trip. Over 2000 people on board, including 120 children, over 50 nations represented, all of whom were engaging, friendly, entertaining. I even met a fellow psychologist who told me he is writing a book entitled: “Does Your Life Need a Laxative?”

And so away we went to the shores of the Baltic Sea to Denmark, Copenhagen, the medieval town of Tallinn, to Oslo, Helsinki and St. Petersburg. St. Petersburg was my favorite destination–a truly magnificent city with incredible cathedrals and palaces of Peter the Great and museums of art beyond imagination–all of whom amazingly survived without irreversible damage, having been used as warehouses during the communist era! There is so much I could share with you about our extraordinary cultural journey. Time will not allow, but I was struck by two things. First, there was the sheer majesty and beauty of the land itself. One can be struck by that reality just about anywhere, of course. The beauty of this planet is truly magnificent. I observe it everywhere I go–even in my drive to Croton and in our walks through Central Park.

But I was also struck by the history of this Baltic region and the blood beneath its soil. The history of Scandinavia is replete with blood of war by invasions from Viking conquests and Nordic aggression, to Napoleonic wars, and the invasion of Nazi Germany. Of course the blood spilt by Russian Revolution and the massive human exterminations during Stalin communist reign—-were all reminders of human violence. Perhaps I would not have otherwise become so interested and struck by this history if I had not also been following each day on our TV screen in our room aboard Serenity, the horrifying bloody conflict erupting in Lebanon that very week.

I was unsettled, frankly, by the disconnect I was feeling–there we were enjoying the beauty of nature and the peaceful accomplishments of nations once blooded by wars themselves and also witnessing on the TV, live scenes of death and destruction even more horrifying. How can there be serenity these days? Humanity seems cursed! Human beings have always killed each other in their strife for identity and power. It happens over and over again and probably always will! And so we witness each day on the screen the ongoing manifestation of this human strife through the suicidal bombings in Iraq, Israel, Great Britain, genocide in Darfur, and in the daily deaths of American soldiers in an ill-conceived, naively planned war. And of course, today, what more potent symbol and reminder of malicious human destruction and hatred do we need than the memory of 9/11? The Hebrew psalmist cried out to his God: “What is man that thou art mindful of him? And I often wonder, “What is man that he would murder, invade, slaughter, rape, burn and ravish his own kind and destroy the gift of creation?

It goes without saying we live in enormously complex and dangerous world. The stakes have never been higher! The juxtaposition of our adventure on board Serenity along the peaceful shores of Scandinavia and the heartbreaking, horrifying loss of life in Israel and Lebanon by civilians once again caught in the vicious power struggles of armed men, fighting vainly to make themselves the center of the universe, served to remind me that this is the way it has always been. This is the nature of being human–to on the one hand be able to have and achieve so much with the gift of the creation and on the other, to destroy so much and devastate the creation.

Anxiety about our possible oblivion, at worst, and lack of identity, at the least, drives humans to act inhumanely. In the depths of such contradictory forces, how can serenity ever be sustained? How can peace ever be reached?

The answer to that question remains challenging, to say the least. I’m not sure it can be answered! Partisan, political posturing, as we know it today, doesn’t appeal to me. I am not sure what the answer is. I have very good, respected friends, knowledgeable and informed people, who differ vehemently about the war in Iraq and the conflict in the Middle East.

I, myself, have varied, changing opinions about the world’s present state and America’s moral responsibility. For me, it is often difficult to know what is true, just and right.

Perhaps the greatest value we should nurture is our humility and less hubris–acknowledging that we do not know all the answers. All humans are sinners, imperfect, flawed–call it what you will. Perhaps the only way to peace is by striving to understand the reality of others.

Reinhold Niebuhr, the great 20th century theologian who wrote extensively about man’s inhumanity to man and immoral society, wrote that while human conflict can never be abolished, moral goodwill between and among humans can be achieved only through the efforts to understand the interests of others as vividly as they understand their own.

How well and consistently humans can sustain such a posture toward others is questionable. Nevertheless, being aboard Serenity, looking out on the peaceful terrain of lands once bloodied by egotistical humanity, I was also reminded of another great Christian theologian I once studied, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who finally agreed to join forces to assassinate Adolf Hitler. However, Bonhoeffer himself was arrested by Nazi forces and hanged in the gallows. Before he died, he wrote passionately that the violence of humanity is in fact “unnatural,” and while the unnatural forces may for a time forcibly prevail, it is the natural aspect of human life that will ultimately prevail. The natural force of human life is one that reaches for connection, freedom and moral responsibility to one’s neighbors–it is the natural force because there is no other way that humanity can survive.

Well, I agree with Bonhoeffer and I hope he is right. To that end this is how I hope to live and act in the days to come: I will support those efforts that I believe are most right and just and humane and urgent. Different ones of us have different ideas about what needs to be done and how, and when. But almost everyone agrees that we must do more and do it differently than our nation has been led in recent years.

I will do all I can to save and preserve the creation we are blessed to know and experience. I believe we are all interdependent and that it is our moral responsibility to savor life and also to save it. Our Seventh Principle speaks of the “interdependent web of all existence,” and I believe most of us would agree with this perspective: that all living things are interdependent, and that we are to be respectful of the whole of creation. Because we are the alpha (or ruling) critters at the moment, yes, we have a responsibility to be good stewards and to be protective of all of life. This behavior starts with an attitude–that of awe and amazement at the beauty and intricacy of our natural world–and then continues with a kind of watchful and protective presence.

And finally, I will strive to be present as much as possible with each soul I know and touch. Why? Because life, as we know it on this earth, is utlmately a terminal condition. We are all vulnerable.

This summer, several of our members have fallen seriously ill, suffered pain, been hospitalized and undergone serious surgery. And I lost a very dear friend. It is in the moment of conversations with those who become ill and particularly with those who face the prospect of death, that I remember what is really basic to life.

There are many social and political issues that must be addressed by our humane nature. These are important matters. But what is really important is more basic. How have I related and cared for hose with whom I have come into contact today? Have I told my spouse how much I love and care for her or him? Have I told my children and grandchildren the same? Have I prayed and cared for those who are in any particular need today–members of my congregation, family, circle of friends, the poor, the homeless, the imprisoned? Have I reflected on how incredible the gift of life really is? Have I given thanks for the multitude of blessings in my life?

This is the basic stuff. Amidst all the turmoil and uncertainty around us, we can still reach out to one another. So I say, love one another. Care for one another. Comfort those in need. Smile and laugh more. Frown less. Smell the fragrances of life. Enjoy the simple pleasures of life. Slow down.

Then, perhaps, in the midst of the storms, you and I will find serenity. Someone once wrote: “Serenity is not freedom from the storm, but peace amid the storm.” And Reinhold Niebuhr once wrote this prayer: “God, 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.”

So let it be.