Sermon, November 3, 2024 – The Gifts of Imperfection

Today’s reading is from Brené Brown who literally wrote the book The Gifts of Imperfection: 

Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we’re supposed to be and embracing who we are. Choosing authenticity means cultivating the courage to be imperfect, to set boundaries, and to allow ourselves to be vulnerable; exercising the compassion that comes from knowing that we are all made of strength and struggle; and nurturing the connection and sense of belonging that can only happen when we believe that we are enough. Authenticity demands Wholehearted living and loving—even when it’s hard, even when we’re wrestling with the shame and fear of not being good enough, and especially when the joy is so intense that we’re afraid to let ourselves feel it. Mindfully practicing authenticity during our most soul-searching struggles is how we invite grace, joy, and gratitude into our lives.….

To become fully human means learning to turn my gratitude for being alive into some concrete common good. It means growing gentler toward human weakness. It means practicing forgiveness of my and everyone else’s hourly failures to live up to divine standards. It means learning to forget myself on a regular basis in order to attend to the other selves in my vicinity. It means living so that “I’m only human” does not become an excuse for anything. It means receiving the human condition as blessing and not curse, in all its achingly frail and redemptive reality.

Sharing/Sermon  The Gifts of Imperfection given by Rev. Sean Parker Dennison

Here we are, together on This November 3, the Sunday before the election—an election that is fraught with anxiety. I set our monthly themes way back in August, and evidently I wasn’t feeling very hopeful, because our theme this month is “mistakes.” I am feeling a little better, but still nervous,  as the outcome of Tuesday’s vote will determine the direction of this nation for the next few years. As one of the yard signs we have in our yard says, “Democracy or Dictatorship : Choose well.”  AND no matter the outcome of the popular vote or the electoral college, we have a candidate who is intent on delegitimizing the process, the outcome, and the guarantee of a peaceful transition of power, one of the foundations of our democracy.

There is so much happening: genocidal violence, floods, hurricanes, shootings, and so many hateful words. How do we hold all of this at once? It feels apocalyptic, and sometimes that is being used as an excuse for even more hate and attempts to revert to social and religious authoritarianism.

Nephi Craig, an Apache chef, author and educator said:

Our ancestors saw the world end once. That whole lifeway is gone. Now, we’re on the other side of that apocalypse, but we are still very much in resistance today . . . . Maintaining our foodways is our own battle to fight for our human rights. We still hold dear these traditions of food and agriculture, and the generosity attached to those practices, so I feel that we are experiencing a profound, wonderful, and amazing return to those concepts and ideals.

It has been comforting to me over these past months, to remember that the idea of a single, final apocalypse, while a compelling idea in contemporary Western evangelical Christian culture, is only one story. In most cultures, the end of the world is not final, and there is almost always a remnant that remains. They suffer, yes, but they also rebuild and so often what comes after is more beautiful, more just, and more balanced than what led to collapse. So as we balance here at what feels like the edge of a precipice—what do we do?

I want to share some lovely words by my colleague Lucas Hergert called Democracy’s Benediction. I want you to listen with your ears and hearts, looking for possibilities and hope:

we are democracy—unruly, unfinished, unrelenting

people of rebellious joy taking to the streets

underground resilience resisting complacency

the pleasure of activism organizing into simple hope

we are democracy,

people of principles taking on principalities

witnessing the worth of those called unworthy

justice just now gaining ground

integrity of interdependent existence extending

living democracy in heads hands hearts

we know that democracy can die, ossify

brittle byproducts of bygone idealists

plotting politicians pirating votes

corporations cannibalizing our care for the world

look: it can wither, distend, come to an end

democracy, today we will love you alive

make you ours, make you thrive

and vote as though our hope is on the line

And so, as we face this moment and the question of change and the possibility that our country will make a big mistake and put democracy itself at risk, we must be willing to act. To love Democracy so fiercely that we do what it takes to preserve its promise. 

This isn’t just a political choice for us. Democracy is woven into our principles and values as part of our legacy—both theological and practical. The right of each person to vote, to take part in the decisions that affect their lives, to be counted…is at the heart of our tradition. We are committed to a world where everyone has power over their own lives, decisions, and choices. I was reminded this week that if we lose the ability to control our own bodies, what results can never be called freedom. This is about more than reproductive rights, more than the right to immigrate to have a better life, more than the right to determine one’s own identity, including what gender we are and whom we love. All of this is about Democracy, not just for any one person, but for all of us.

And it will take all of us. Whatever the outcome Tuesday and the reaction to it, we will all have to be ready to repair our democracy and our nation. We will have to be wise to figure out how we can help. Sister Souljah, a Black hip-hop artist reminds us that “Wisdom is not a fixed quality. It circulates among us.” We need each other to be wise. The reason imperfection is a gift among us is that it lets us know we need each other. When we make a mistake, we need each other to learn, to forgive, to repair.

In so many circumstances, we need each other. As we face the uncertainty of this time, we all need to take a look at how we got to this point. How many years of voter apathy did it take to get here? How much disengagement with the vital choices that voting protects and affects? How much despair in the face of abhorrent words and actions? We need each other to get us through the next few days, weeks, months, and the years that got us to this point. We have a lot to do to love our democracy back to life.

Just as in our personal lives, it is important to reckon with the mistakes we have made. Mistakes that have been used to weaken our nation and disenfranchise citizens. Things that individually, we thought would be okay because we couldn’t imagine this nation was moving toward this day when disrespect and dehumanization was not just a political tactic, but celebrated as a way of life. We couldn’t imagine that so many in our nation could be activated by a fear of the very things we value: increasing equality, an understanding of our history and its effects on the present, science and technology that allow people to learn more than just what their parents or the government want them to know. The freedoms that we celebrate: the dignity of every person, justice, equity, and pluralism, have been used to make people afraid of the world we have long been working toward.

We have made mistakes along the way. We have underestimated the willingness of people in our nation to try to drag us backward, violently and hatefully, to a time when sexism, racism, homophobia, and other arrangements of power and opinion protected the status quo. We turned our backs and tittered into our hands about “those people” who didn’t understand the world the way we did. We didn’t think they were a threat, even when they elected (and we allowed) a man we knew was a con man, a liar, who would mock people’s differences and brag about the terrible things he could do and get away with. Even now, many of us shrug and say “there is nothing we can do.” 

We have also slowly been persuaded. Not to violence and hate, but to despair and inaction. There may be nothing we can be sure will work, but there is plenty that we can try. Protests, a general strike, showing up when decisions are being made, claiming our own history and theology as just as important as the religious right. When authoritarianism has made the attempt to destroy democracy and liberty in other countries, the people showing up in the streets to protest and demand change is the only thing that has worked. We have to learn from that and be ready to show up for what we know is right, what aligns with our values and beliefs, what matters most to us. Unitarian Universalism is centered on love, but that love is not passive or abstract. It takes the form of justice, equity, transformation, pluralism, interdependence, and generosity. 

We may make mistakes. Of course we will, but the way to make those mistakes a gift is to face them together, and do what it takes to repair the damage we have done. That is how we become fully human, fully loving, fully able to continue beyond our mistakes and frailties, to arrive at a place where our fear of imperfection doesn’t stop us from working for a better life, a better way, a better world. We must believe we—every single one of us—are more than our mistakes. We must believe that facing imperfection in ourselves and others is a gift that can teach us how to change and with compassion, allow something new to come into our lives. 

I know this week is an anxious time for all of us as we wait to see what will happen. I hope we can lean on each other and begin to build whatever future we need to continue to grow past the mistakes we have made and on toward a future that looks like love, compassion, and justice for all.

Amen, Ase’ And Blessed be.

 

Offering Words

Dancer and Choreographer Twyla Tharpe tells us, in the chapter in her book  The Creative Habit, called “How to be Lucky:” 

Be generous. I don’t use that word lightly. Generosity is luck going in the opposite direction, away from you. If you are generous to someone, if you do something to help [someone] out, you are, in effect, making [them] lucky. This is important. It’s like inviting yourself into a community of good fortune. Whenever I feel I am working in a groove, it’s invariably because I feel I am being the benefactor in the situation rather than the beneficiary.

Closing Words

We extinguish our chalice with the words of Rev. Barbara Hamilton-Holway:

Go now in peace. Deeply regard each other. 

Truly listen to each other. 

Speak what each of you must speak. 

Be ready in any moment to disarm your own heart, 

and always live as if a realm of love had already begun.

Amen. Ashé. And Blessed be.