The Unitarian Universalist Community Church of Santa Monica

"Until Silence Speaks "

READING

"According to Andrew Newberg, the brain's machinery of transcendence is set in motion by a mind willing itself toward the divine. It begins, for example, when a Buddhist dwells on the intention to clear the mind of thoughts, or a Trappist wills the mind to focus fiercely on God. These conscious intentions are translated into neural energy that soon travels in reverberating cycles through the brain.

"Newberg's provocative theory is based on research begun in the early 1970's by the late Eugene d'Aquili, a psychiatrist and anthropologist, and one of neurotheology's founding pioneers. D'Aquili's theory described how brain function could produce a wide range of religious experiences, from the profound mountaintop epiphanies of saints and gurus to the quiet sense of holiness and uplift felt by a believer during prayer.

"Newberg and D'Aquili used a technology called SPECT, scanning to map the brains of several Tibetan Buddhists as they immersed themselves in meditative states. Later they did the same with Franciscan nuns who were engaged in deep, contemplative prayer. The scans photographed levels of neural activity in each subject's brain at the moment that person had reached an intense spiritual peak. . . .What the scans revealed . . . was that at peak moments of prayer and meditation, the flow of neural impulses to the parietal lobe was dramatically reduced. "

'That's why God won't go away,' Newberg (says). 'That's why religion thrives in an age of technology and reason.' You can't simply think god out of existence he says, because religious feelings don't rise from thought but from experience. They are born in a moment of mystical union, which, as far as the brain is concerned, would feel as richly and solidly real as any perception of 'ordinary' physical reality."

(Excerpts from "Is God All In Your Head?" by Vince Rause "Los Angeles Times Magazine," July 15, 2001, pp. 10-13 +)

SERMON

On last Tuesday the "New York Times" carried an article about a forum held at the Salk Institute in LaJolla. The forum, which evidently began as a polite exchange of views, became and was described as a "free-for-all debate on science and religion." One of the principals in the "debate" was Richard Dawkins, whose new book, "The God Delusion" has become a best seller.

This is not a sermon about that endless debate, although I will suggest that scientists - I use the word loosely - like Dawkins and others are actually fundamentalists. They build their arguments against religious faith on the "straw men" of a literal reading of sacred texts. (For another perspective on this kind of fundamentalist, check out the Bywater column in today's "LA Times.") One of these scientific fundamentalist characterized religious faith as: "(making) . . . claims about the divine origin of certain books, about the virgin birth of certain people, . . . ." (George Johnson, "A Free-for-All On Science and Religion," "The New York Times," November 21, 2006, pp. D1=D8)

Not so fast! I know a religious faith, indeed I give witness to such a faith which does not, in fact, believe in nor accept the divine origin of certain books, nor in the virgin birth of certain people. That is the kind of religion I want to speak about this morning. My understanding of religious faith is enriched by an article by Vince Rause in the "Los Angeles Times Magazine" some months ago. Today's Readings are from that article. The final paragraph, a quotation from Andrew Newberg is worth repeating:

"You can't simply think god out of existence . . . because religious feelings don't rise from thought, but from experience. They are born in a moment of mystical union, which, as far as the brain is concerned, would feel as richly and solidly real as any perception of 'ordinary' physical reality." (Quoted by Vince Rause, "Is God All In Your Head?" "Los Angeles Times Magazine," July 15, 2001, pp. 10-13 +)

In his book, "Spirit Matters," Rabbi Michael Lerner says that we human beings have spiritual needs and that our world will be distorted and dysfunctional if those needs are thwarted. He also takes great pains to show that spirituality or religion is not a threat to rational thinking nor to humanism. In spite of what the scientific fundamentalists say, religion, at least religion at its best, is not "flaky" and not limited to ridiculous notions such as virgin births.

Scientific fundamentalists make the same mistake as Biblical literalists. They fail to understand that myths were never meant to be taken literally but are stories to lead people to meaning. Of course there is a major problem in talking about religion or spirituality. That problem is the basis of the myths. Finite words are never adequate when used about Infinite truth. There is an old French saying, "God defined is God finished." Rather than description or analysis, I understand spirituality to be best known through experience, not the least being a practice such as meditation.

Which brings me back to the Vince Rause article, which is an excerpt from a book he co-authored entitled, "Why God Won't Go Away." The article and book are based on a relatively new science called "neurotheology." The "neuro" part has to do with neurology - study of the human brain and nervous system. The "theology" part has to do with religion or spirituality.

Through the use of modern technology, neurotheologists have shown that meditation affects brain activity. The article included pictures of brain scans, one without and one with meditation, showing neural activity.

Before you are glassy-eyed with boredom, I want to move from theological or neurological abstractions to experience. Ralph Waldo Emerson complained that a sermon he had heard was filled with "theological abstractions." He said "The true preacher deals out to the people his life - life passed through the fire of thought." I want to share with you my witness, some understandings which I have found about religion and spirituality. I ask that you remember these are "thoughts in process," or as the bumper sticker says, "Be patient, God isn't through with me yet!"

The neurotheologists discovered that meditation does have an affect on the brain. Sometimes the words "prayer" and "meditation" are used interchangeably. I am more comfortable with the word meditation. I recognize that other people find the term prayer to be meaningful, and a few people talk about contemplation. Oscar Wilde wrote somewhere, ". . . in the opinion of the world, contemplation is the gravest sin of which any citizen can be guilty; in the opinion of the highest cultures it is the proper occupation of humanity." I join Wilde in the reminder that prayer or meditation or contemplation may well be one of the keys which distinguishes humanity.

When I talk about meditation, I recognize that one of the first questions skeptics asks is "To whom is the prayer or meditation addressed?" Willliam James used the term, "divine power," but there are many names: Yahweh, God, Great Spirit, Allah, or even Paul Tillich's "Ground of Being." We Unitarian Universalist talk about and sing about "Spirit of Life." Suffice just now to say I am talking about prayer or meditation related to each individual's understanding of Ultimate Truth.

One of the problems in talking about prayer or meditation is that sometimes these words conjure up images from a childish understanding of God as a kind of "machine," maybe God as a "vending machine." Put in seventy-five cents worth of prayer and receive the candy bar of your choice! Seems to me this is a major limitation of the article about prayer in yesterday's "L.A. Times."

Not long ago someone asked me about a book entitled, "The Prayer of Jabez." The author of that book suggests that using the prayer of Jabez, a little-known character from Hebrew scripture, will result in good things for the person doing the praying. I have problems with that notion because I understand prayer or meditation not as asking, but as centering, as listening.

Of course prayer has sometimes been mis-used as a way to manipulate persons. Once in a church where I was pastor a woman rushed up to Betty following the service. The woman greeted Betty with these words, "Oh, Betty, I have been praying you would have your hair styled!"

So I do not believe prayer or meditation is asking nor manipulating. What is meditation? I prefer the term contemplative attention, which means taking time for silence; taking time to listen to the silence. In her essay, "Teaching a Stone to Talk," Anne Dillard says listening means being "wholly attentive."

Listening for the silence is an ancient practice. In Hebrew Scripture there is the story of Elijah who did not "hear" the voice of God in the earthquake, wind or fire, but in the "still small voice," better translated as "the awesome silence."

A contemporary author, Patricia Hampl says it his way: "Silence is the first prayer I learned to trust." I was not familiar with Patricia Hampl until a few years ago when I happened to run across a reference to her in a book in the UU bookstore in Boston.

Hampl was reared as a Roman Catholic, including parochial school. She then rebelled against that strict up-bringing. More recently she went on a kind of religious search which she describes in her book, "Virgin Time," but with the significant sub-title, "In Search of the Contemplative Life."

The book is autobiographical, describing Hampl's visits to religious shrines around the world including Assisis, Lourdes, and finally to Rosethorn, a silent retreat center in Northern California. She describes herself as a pilgrim, brought up Catholic, through rebellion, and finally to the experience of prayer as silence.

I found much in Hampl which resonates with my own experience. She writes that prayer or meditation, ". . . only looks like an act of language: fundamentally it is a position, a placement of oneself. Focus." (Patricia Hampl, "Virgin" Time, p. 217)

My experience is that prayer has grown from my childhood/ childish notions as nothing more than asking, the "vending machine" approach, through prayer as a rather formalized ritual, replete with too many words, finally coming to appreciation for contemplative attention - listening to the silence.

My appreciation for meditation or contemplative listening has been the result of several experiences. A few years ago, when I was a consultant on the district staff in Massachusetts, I was invited to participate in a one-day seminar with Dr. Herbert Benson, Cardiologist at Deaconess Hospital, a part of Harvard Medical School. During the day we heard lectures about and practiced what Dr. Benson called "The Relaxation Response" as an element in healing. Dr. Benson later wrote the book, "Timeless Healing," with the intriguing sub- title, "The Power and Biology of Belief." Dr. Benson wrote eloquently, before the neurotheologists, about the healing power of meditation or religious belief.

I return occasionally to read works by Thich Nhat Hanh, a Buddhist mystic, who encourages people to engage in what he calls "mindfulness meditation," another form of listening to the silence. "Mindfulness Meditation" has been used successfully in pain clinics, and was once featured on one of Bill Moyer's "Healing and the Mind" programs.

My experience has, then, been enriched in a variety of ways: Dr. Herbert Benson's seminar at Harvard Medical School; Thich Nhat Hanh, Patricia Hampl, Anne Dillard, Rabbi Michael Learner, and more recently Vince Rause in the article in the "L.A. Times Magazine."

I have a growing appreciation for a deeper spiritual or faith experience which goes beyond theories and creeds to some kind of recognition of the Holy. A Hindu mystic, Kabir, was asked by a student, "Tell me, what is God?" Kabir responded, "God is the breath inside the breath." In a culture which is increasingly frenetic, listening to the "breath inside the breath" is not such a bad idea. Or as the Psalmist said, "Be still and know."

There is at least one other thing to be said about giving attention to the spiritual component of life. This is grist for several other sermon mills. Suffice to say that contemplative attention can make a difference in society. Dag Hammarskjold wrote in "Markings," "The more faithfully you listen to the voice within you, the better you will hear what is sounding outside. And only one who listens can speak."

My experience, which I find confirmed and enriched by some of the authors I have mentioned, my experience is that contemplative attention, or meditation, or if you don't mind the word, prayer, can make a difference. The difference is not in attempting to persuade the Divine, or to manipulate people. Rather the difference is what happens inside me if I will listen; if I will give attention to the Silence. What happens inside me will, I hope, be manifest in the way I live in society and relate with others.

In her book, "Leaving Room for Hope," your excellent Minister, Rev. Judith Meyer, has a sermon entitled, "Why I Pray." It is worth your attention. Judith writes:

"Prayer is primitive and fundamental. It is the naked recognition of who we are and what we want. Prayer is speaking the truth to ourselves, not always an easy thing to do. We express ourselves in our most vulnerable state. Perhaps that is why people have sent their prayers to heaven: far away, safely out of reach. But what we need is what can reach us: to sense the spirit within, and know the truth of ourselves. The truth is what can reach us. Prayer is letting it find us." (Judith E. Meyer, "Leaving Room for Hope," p. 17)

My experience, enriched by many sources, including Judith Meyer, is that when I take time to listen to the silence, my life and work go better. While I know the danger of generalizing from the specific, I dare suggest that my experience is not unique. Listen . . . listen to the silence. Shalom, Salaam, Blessed Be, and Amen.