Sunday Services
"Anxiety and Insight"
A sermon by the Rev. Judith E. Meyer
Unitarian Universalist Community Church
Santa Monica, California
June 23, 2002
Each of us has certain central themes in our lives
that evolve as we do
but remain a fixed part of our identity,
for better and for worse.
They are linked to our struggles
and we often wish they would go away.
And yet, they also help us learn about life
and make us who we are as human beings.
These central themes may look like obstacles,
but they are much more than that.
Obstacles can keep us from leading a full life -
but they can also show us how to have one.
They are portals to enter
as well as problems to be solved.
They offer insights
to learn from looking deeply
into the realities and limitations
of life.
They are what we find
when we are honest with ourselves
and diligent in the work of making the best
of who we are.
My central theme is anxiety.
I have experienced it since childhood.
I have overcome it in some situations,
and succumbed to it in others.
I have studied it from a philosophical point of view
and grounded my spiritual practice in it.
I have treated it,
laughed at it,
prayed about it,
and at times, concealed it.
But I have never given thanks
for all that I have learned because of it.
I really should,
beginning right now.
Obstacles in our path show us spiritual truth.
Consider how Jim Finley struggled to clean the monastery barn,
never able to complete his task in time for Vespers.
There seemed to be no way out.
He fell perpetually behind in his spiritual practice.
And he was -
until he realized that his spiritual practice
was not to be sought
in arriving at Vespers on time.
Rather it was in concentrating more fully on the very task
that was causing him to be late!
"Shovel with integrity"
became his mantra,
and it may work well for the rest of us too.
Rather than look for a way around our obstacles,
we can seek from them
what they have to teach us about our lives.
Only when I looked more deeply into my anxiety,
did I begin to understand
what I needed to learn.
But it never actually goes away; just changes as I grow.
Lately I have wondered
whether this is to be my life's work.
In philosophical terms,
anxiety can be existential -
fluctuating with the ups and downs of life,
or ontological -
coming simply from being alive and aware.
All of us experience existential anxiety,
some more than others.
We learn to cope,
get help when we need it,
and keep on living.
Ontological anxiety, however, is inescapable,
because it is the essence of our human condition.
Ontological anxiety is the awareness that we are alive
and that we must die.
The human mind cannot reconcile our awareness
and is uneasy with it.
That uneasiness causes anxiety that does not go away.
Living with anxiety can be a spiritual practice.
But if you suffer from anxiety
and know that it interferes with your life,
don't just take this sermon
as the help you need.
There is much more you can do.
Good treatment is readily available.
My words concern the anxiety
that is part of who we are as human beings,
that belongs to our self-consciousness
and heightens our awareness
of what it means to be alive.
I was in college when I read about ontological anxiety
in philosophy class.
I was already on intimate terms
with all the other kinds.
Learning that anxiety is part of being alive
validated my entire adolescence
and made me feel normal again
for the first time in years.
There was much more work to do.
For reasons I could not yet understand,
I had begun building the foundation
of my spiritual practice.
My spiritual practice is nothing esoteric.
It is my work to be a whole person.
I want to live fully and consciously,
and to grow closer to bringing my actions
into line with my values.
Many of you are making the same effort in your lives.
We all know how many obstacles
can prevent us from achieving our goals
or acting on our intentions.
Anxiety can keep us from being who we want to be
or doing what we need to do.
It takes work to break through.
But it is only one of many obstacles
that can keep us from being whole.
The way we live our lives
is a serious obstacle for many of us.
Not enough time,
too much to do,
never able to tackle anything
greater than how we manage our day.
Quite possibly there is nothing we can do about it.
If so, then perhaps even the pressure of our day
can become a pathway to insight about life.
What does it tell us
that we need to learn?
Is there more than one way
to "shovel with integrity,"
"to be awake and present to the task at hand,"
whatever that may be?
These questions are important
because each of us is burdened
with life's obstacles,
though they may be different for each of us.
Some of us live with chronic conditions
such as mental illness or cancer.
Others of us struggle with limitations
we can only accommodate,
not improve.
We all have our foibles and flaws and wounds.
Nobody is perfect.
We can only learn how to be whole anyway.
The obstacles posed by our brokenness,
our weakness,
and our wounds
offer us a choice.
We can try to get around them somehow,
or we can look deeply into them.
When we look deeply into them,
awake and present to them,
we look at ourselves with compassion.
From that act of tenderness towards ourselves,
we gain self-acceptance and dignity.
That is one way to become whole.
When I have looked deeply into my anxiety,
I have found insights not only about myself
but also about the nature of life.
By looking deeply I mean being awake and present to it,
and also seeking help for it,
being honest with myself about it,
speaking openly about it,
and struggling to understand what it means.
I have learned how to manage my anxiety.
I've won many of its struggles
and grown in confidence, strength and happiness.
I have noted aspects I cannot change,
requiring me to live with myself
in all my imperfection.
And I have met the limits
of what I can know and understand,
turning me away from myself
and towards the mystery of life itself.
What I have learned about life is simpler,
but much more important.
By looking deeply into my anxiety,
I have oriented myself
to the mystery and the uncertainty
all around me.
And have begun to see it with wonder
instead of fear.
The children's story about the bear
who cannot sleep
is a helpful parable for me -
perhaps for all of us.
Little Bear fears the darkness all around him.
Even the reassuring presence of Big Bear,
lighting lanterns in the darkness,
cannot allay the fears.
The only way that Little Bear can calm down
is by going out into the darkness itself.
And interestingly,
the darkness is not simply darkness.
It is a night sky with stars and moon,
a darkness full of light.
Seeing that,
Little Bear can sleep.
He is at peace with himself in his world.
For human beings,
self-conscious and aware of our mortality,
anxiety is the darkness all around us.
We don't know what else to do
but light as many lanterns
as we can find.
But they don't do the job.
Only by meeting the anxiety
and seeing what it holds for us
can we live as whole people.
In a spiritual sense,
anxiety teaches us about the mystery of life.
The whole of creation is so vast
that we can only feel small
and insignificant in it.
That alone can make us anxious.
But in that anxiety is an invitation
to go further into the unknown,
to feel as deeply as we can
the mystery of being.
And as we go deeper,
we see that our anxiety
is not really just anxiety.
It is a path to gratitude and wonder;
gratitude for the gift of life
and wonder at the great work
that is creation.
My work now is to move from anxiety to gratitude,
from feeling insignificant to feeling wonder.
This condition I have known so fully
is a pathway to the fullness of life.
Any condition can be.
Think of Jim Finley,
working his way through the barn,
shoveling.
It's what we must do.
The human condition burdens us with obstacles,
not even of our own making,
that can keep us from
the full experience and joy of living.
But these obstacles are also an opening
to know life in the way
that we are called to know it,
in all our imperfection and uncertainty.
When we look into them
and face the mystery they represent,
life shows us how to respond -
in gratitude, wonder and joy.
Today I give thanks for all that has stood in my way,
for there I have found my way,
and it has been good to me.
This text is for personal use only, and may not be copied
or distributed without the permission of the author.