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THE GOSPEL OF BROADWAY (part 3).[1]

You’ll Never Walk Alone: the place of faith.[2]

INTRODUCTION: When Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein wrote, “You'll Never Walk Alone" for their musical, Carousel, it was a huge hit not only because of its being a beautiful song, but because of the time period in which the musical opened. In April 1945, Americans were still reeling from the loss of 400,000 soldiers in World War II – mostly young men. Virtually every Carousel audience had husbands, brothers, boyfriends, or fiancés either at war overseas, or lost in action. In those kinds of situations, you’ll never walk alone provided a powerful emotional trigger. Audiences found significant solace in the words and tune of this song.

            Let’s look at those words for just a moment, as they appear in your order of service on the back side of the Bridge. They are the theme of our service today: You’ll never walk alone: the place of faith.

As you have it before you, there is no music…it’s only the words or the lyrics. By it, what is that? It’s a poem. In fact, the song, you’ll never walk alone, is a poem set to music. I invite you to experience the poetry and the music, as Darlene Turner sings it for us:

When you walk through a storm

Hold your head up high

And don't be afraid of the dark.

At the end of a storm is a golden sky

And the sweet silver song of a lark.

Walk on through the wind,

Walk on through the rain,

Tho' your dreams be tossed and blown.

Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart

And you'll never walk alone,

You'll never walk alone.

Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart

And you'll never walk alone,

You'll never walk alone.

Now if you would, please, take out the All Faiths card that’s also enclosed in your order of service. Open it up and note on the left hand side the second paragraph. Let us read what it says, together, please:

We believe

religious language

and sacred scripture

can be thought of

as the poetry of faith,

which is why

we repeat creeds,

sing hymns, meditate, pray,

and affirm each other’s

unique spiritual search.

So when we read or sing the lyrics of You’ll Never Walk Alone, what is that? It’s poetry. It’s not fact. It’s not objective description. It’s not science. No! It’s poetry.

At the end of a storm is a golden sky

And the sweet silver song of a lark.

Poetry allows us to use language with a license and a freedom, like a painter with her or his canvass. We can add color here, take it away there, leave this part blank. It’s the license of faith, as well. 

Robert Frost once wrote, “Poetry provides the one permissible way of saying one thing and meaning another.” We talk in parables, latch on to the latest hints, and lurch forward with enthusiasm at the slightest promise. We never know whether it’s from instinct or insight. And our use of religious poetry demonstrates that.

            Now think back with me for just a moment: Some of us were raised in the belief that God was not a matter of mystery; rather, he had been revealed.

            First, that included knowing for certain that God was He: “Our father….” After confession, the priest said, say, “Twenty-five ‘Our Father’s.’” We knew God was a He. That opinion is still reflective of religion in a male-dominated world. All the prophets of Judaism were male. Jesus and his disciples, as well as the apostles were male. Muhammad and the caliphs who followed him, the imams and ayatollahs, all were and are male. The Hebrew scriptures, Christian scriptures, and the Qur’an were all written by males. The pope, his bishops and cardinals, as well as his priests are male, and so are all the ministers of many Protestant denominations such as the Southern Baptists and Missouri Synod Lutherans. So, God: He!

Second, God was up in heaven: “Our father who art in heaven.” Where is heaven? When that prayer was composed, the world was thought to be a three-tiered universe, with Heaven above, Hell below, and Earth in between.

            Third, what was God doing up in heaven? He was sitting on a throne. Remember the phrase from the Apostles’ Creed that Jesus is seated “on the right hand of God the father, Almighty.” They were sitting on a throne.

            Fourth, what was God doing on his throne? Reigning, as kings do. That meant he was observing, watching and responding by directing all that went on down on Earth below.

            Fifth, were we to try and describe what God is, based on the preceding, we would have to say – He…is up in heaven…on a throne…reigning – all of which makes God a giant-sized human being, with a long-grey beard.

            Now my point is: There is no mystery to that. It’s all spelled out. But guess what? Just by being here, I’m quite confident that you have rejected that notion. We don’t believe in a male god…we don’t believe there is an up there place or a down there place, since our up and down change totally every 12 hours…and the image of god on a throne reigning is a cultural hangover from governments of 2,000 plus years ago that only a few countries continue…and the concept of God as a giant-sized human being is also offensive and what we mean by anthropomorphism…from anthropos, which is Greek for “man.”

So does that mean we can’t speak of God? No it means that many of us have made a fundamental change in perception…the way we see things. We see things differently. But what does that mean?

A good analogy is to think of the Equator. As you know, the Equator is the imaginary circle around the Earth that is equidistant – equal distance – from the North and South poles.

I remember when in Kenya, if you travelled on the Great Northern Road outside of Nairobi, you would come to a tourist spot with souvenir stands, food, and a big sign saying, “You've reached the equator.”

You could have your picture taken standing on the Equator. Since the Equator runs through the center of Kenya, I suppose you could have one photo taken North of the Equator and one taken South.

Likewise, when we think about God there was a time when we spoke about Him from one side of the theological Equator, so to speak. He had all the characteristics that we just described. But then we stepped over the line…the theological Equator…and in doing so we recognized that God is not separate and apart from us…God is not a person on a throne in a place.

As a result, we can only speak of God in metaphor…in poetry…by analogy.

Here’s why from Dr. Stephan Rechtschaffen, a physician at the Omega Institute.[3] He uses two sets of exercises to help us understand why we think as we do. Let’s try them right now, if you would. So close your eyes, please:

First, think of a red balloon. Great.

With your eyes still closed, next, think of a pink elephant. Okay. Eyes open.

How long did it take to shift from one thought to the next – from red balloon to pink elephant? Probably a fraction of a second, correct? This “split-second” kind of thinking can be called “mental-thinking.”

Now let’s shift to another kind of thinking. So close your eyes again until I ask otherwise please:

Feel sad…

Now feel angry…

Now feel in love….

Okay? Eyes open. Not the same as the balloon and elephant, was it? Red balloons and pink elephants – no problem: mental-thinking. But feeling sad, then angry, then consumed by feelings of love, can’t be called up so quickly. It’s not mental-thinking, but “long-time feeling.”

One is spur of the moment, and subject to change regularly – mental thinking. The other builds through time and experience, reflection and analysis, and seldom yields to momentary changes – it’s long-time feeling. It’s also more tied in to our sense of being, our psyche, and our awareness.

It’s why matters of faith are not something that can change in an instant. They are not mental thinking as much as they are “long-time feeling,” with which we must work through the labyrinth of our emotions and feelings, until we finally gain the courage of our convictions and make a personal change.

David Thoreau has one of the most famous descriptions of that, which I’m sure many of you have read or heard. He says, "If a woman or man does not keep pace with their companions, perhaps it is because they hear a different drummer. Let them step to the music which they hear, however measured or far away."

It’s possible to hear a secret music and respond to unique rhythms all one’s own. Gradually the music increases, the rhythms get stronger, and the inner symphony takes shape. As it does, we no longer hear the music which others are calling the only music, the only truth.

The struggle to come to terms with who we are, and how we are to live, are not quick-time mental-thinking issues. We all understand that. But one thing we sometimes also overlook is that faith-matters are long-time feeling issues. There may be an “aha” moment…a triggering event. But they are still part of a long-term process of discovery.

Earlier in the service, I asked you to share with someone, a time when one of your most important beliefs changed. For many of us, that was a very liberating time and yet for many very painful. Through the years I’ve had occasion to talk with so many people who have been down that road. I know what they’re talking about, because like so many of you, I’ve been there and done that, too.

It would be interesting to know what was the central shift, the major belief change that you’ve undergone. But I’ve come to realize something while here at All Faiths: Instead of diminishing our beliefs when we reject a fundamentalist type of thinking, we are able to open up to the cornucopia of faiths that under gird our world.

When we cross the theological equator, from limited to unlimited, we don’t have to give up that litany or practice of our heritage, that scripture or ritual. We just understand them differently. We see them from the North instead of the South, or from the South instead of the North.

CONCLUSION

Back in the 1990s, Charles Trimble, who invented one of the first hand-held Global Positioning Satellite devices, was traveling in Africa. He too went North out of Nairobi, Kenya, to the Equator Center.

Like most tourists, Trimble decides to have his picture taken while standing on the Equator. He poses with his Global Positioning Satellite device in his hand.

Then he looks down at his GPS device. To his consternation, it is showing that the equator is not where he is standing but up the road some distance.

So he and his friends go find the mayor of this little hamlet, and they explain about these satellites going around the earth. They show him Trimble’s GPS device, and they tell him that it shows that the real equator is a mile up the road.

The mayor says, “Oh, we knew that. But the parking up there is terrible.”

For some reason or other, I thought that was a little bit like the wit who said, “A Unitarian is just a Quaker with Attention Deficit Disorder.”

We could talk about the sense of connectedness that each of us has to all that is. Or we could put it more poetically in the words of faith and say, “You’ll never walk alone.” Amen and blessed be.