            
| Sermon Preached at Northbrae Community Church, December 4, 2005 – Advent 2 By Ron Sebring Foundations for Peace My children were both adopted. Both as infants. Adoptive parents do not have the luxury of nine months warning. We were instant parents. Overnight. I remember the day and the week we brought my son home from the hospital. He was sure sweet, but what a handful! Our whole world changed. A new baby has a way of becoming the center around which everything rotates. Diapers, temper tantrums, getting up in the middle of the night for night feedings. No sitting in the back porch swing, pondering the stars. No sectioning off a little time here or there to read a book. Midnight bartering over whose turn it is to get up. A new baby has a way of taking over the whole world. And for first time parents, that comes as a shocking revelation. And as for meditation – with candle and incense, letting the mind settle – I don’t see how that’s possible. Too many interruptions. Years ago, I was trying to read a book, a collection of Zen parables. And a baby was crying in the background. As I recall. It was a disturbing cry and I needed to go tend to him, but it wasn’t an urgent cry, so I had time to finish the paragraph before going. In this context, with a baby crying in the background, this particular Zen parable had deep impact. A village honored their Zen master, Hakuin, who was Abbot of the monastery. He enjoyed a reputation of living a pure life. People came from miles around to the monastery for inspiration, because he was so well respected. In the village, a young Japanese girl became pregnant. Her parents were angry, and the young girl was scared. She didn’t want to reveal who the father was. So she named Hakuin, the Zen master, as being the father of the child. Her parents became outraged, and the villagers, disappointed. They went to the monastery and accused him. His reputation, on the verge of evaporating. Hakuin simply said, "Ah-so," "Is that so." And gave a polite bow of respect. When the child was born, the parents took the child to the monastery and gave it to Hakuin … "Here, this is your child, you raise it!" Hakuin took the child in his arms. Cradled it. He again said, "Ah-so," "Is that so." And he gave a polite bow of respect. Hakuin took good care of the child, providing every thing it needed. After many months, the truth came out. The real father came forward. And they were ready to be a family. They went to the monastery, apologized, and asked for the baby. Hakuin handed the baby to them. And again said, "Ah-so," "Is that so." And again, gave a polite bow of respect. That story had an impact on me. I can not imagine anything more incongruous than a new baby in a Zen monastery. How could anyone meditate? Such disruption! There could be no "peace." At least not in the way we normally think of life in a monastery. This story changed my whole understand of what "peace" is. Ø Both inner peace. Ø And peace within a family, or a community, or even a nation. · Peace is not the absence of conflict. · Peace is not the absence of noise or disturbance. · Peace is not a passive absence of anything. Like a calm lake with no wind. · Peace is a certain quality of equanimity within the heart. · Peace is a tree standing solid in a wind storm, branches swaying and yet returning. · Peace is a skilled surfer riding a high wave. Finding just the right spot in the midst of the turbulence, and using the force of the wave to thoroughly enjoying the ride. Connie and I went over at the pier in Pacifica. The wind was blowing, and the waves, monstrous. I watched a seagull come in for a landing on the railing of the pier. He arced high in the opposite direction, into the wind, Made tiny adjustments in his wings as the wind carried him in, Arced across the peer, dropping low enough to use the peer as a wind-brake, And then slowed arced up and made an ever-so-delicate touchdown. Exquisite beauty, grace, and almost in defiance of the wind and waves. Last week, we talked about the foundation of HOPE as being VISION. Having a strong vision is what makes hope possible. We talked about Martin Luther King, Jr.’s famous "I have a dream" sermon. How he, in the last half of the sermon, painted a living picture of something people can believe in. This week, I would suggest that the foundation of PEACE is EQUANIMITY. Equanimity means "calm temperament" or "even disposition." The word is taken from two Latin roots: "Aequus" which means "even" or "equal." "Animus" which means "mind." Equanimity means being "equal minded." And of course, "equality" means "justice." This, too, has powerful implications for "peace." There can be no peace without justice. Whether it is inner peace, or social peace, the principle is the same. It is a mind, whether individual or collective, that can embrace disturbances and hold them in an equitable balance. Like a pair of scales, two trays on each end. Tilting one way, or the other. What makes a pair of scales work is a still center-point, between. Finding peace is first finding that still point. The statue of Lady Justice, perhaps the best know statue in the whole world. She stands tall, holding a pair of scales in one hand and a sword in the other. And she is blindfolded. This statue adorns courthouses all across the world. It appears in three places on the Supreme Court building in Washington, D.C. · The scales represent the equality with which Justice is measured. · The sword represents the power to make things right. To set things in balance. · The blindfold represents justice free from bribes, prejudices, favor, corruption. · And some have suggested that the figure of a woman represents intuition. A 6ths sense, higher insight, the ability to foretell the future. The ability to see into the deeper levels of any issue. The statue of Lady Justice goes back to Greek and Roman mythology. It represents the goddess, Themis. In early times, gods and the statues that represent them held embedded symbolism. In Rome, there were four cardinal virtues: Þ Prudence Þ Fortitude Þ Temperance Þ And Justice. Themis embodied Justice and what it takes to have justice. Without Lady Justice, and the equanimity she represents, there can be no peace. One example of equanimity, for me, is Paul in prison, writing to the church at Philippi. People at Philippi sent him a letter expressing their concern. They sit and wait. When they gather, they ask, "Anyone heard from Paul?" And finally, someone brings a letter. They gather in their catacombs for the news. So moving, this letter, that it was copied and passed around to other churches. It’s message, far reaching. In this letter, he shares how much of life he has enjoyed and how much he has suffered. · He has been rich, and he has been poor. · He has been popular, and he has been scorned. · He has known happy times and times of suffering. He writes, in any and all circumstances, I have learned how to be content. Now can we say that? In whatever circumstances in which we find ourselves, we can be content? In the text today, he talks about a "peace that passes all understanding." This is something that reaches far deeper than our minds, far beyond circumstances. This is having a center within us that cannot be moved. A center that holds. Peace is in knowing that the center holds. Like a parent in the kitchen preparing a meal. There is a disturbance upstairs where two children are playing. First yelling. Then a bang, like something hit the floor. The parent rolls her eyes, neatly replaces the cooking utensils, and goes to referee. She sticks her head around the door and interrupts a conflict in progress. The two children are immediately defensive. "He hit me!" "Well, he hit me first." "That’s because he did ‘such and such’." Back and forth, and the story unfolds. The parent is compassionate, but the parent keeps a perspective. In order to make peace, the parent doesn’t take sides. The parent doesn’t engage the issues. Whose right? Whose wrong? It’s like in life, we can find ourselves in one of three places. In one tray. Or in the other tray. Or on the balancing point between. If the love is there. And if a just perspective is there. Then the formula works: Love + Perspective = Peace.
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