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Buying a Box Lot

 Sermon Delivered By

Reverend Nancy Bouchard

September 28, 2008

 

He was the kind of man who had spent long days and nights planning for the future. Every detail, down to even the insignificant was dissected and considered.  He’d given life much thought, he’d had many experiences, and had known both great joys and great suffering.  He had pursued with diligence the meaning of his life and had persisted in his search for wisdom, courage and commitment.  Finally, as he approached the phase closer to the end of life, he determined a path he wished to take and did not falter in his life long habit of  great detail as he sculpted the particulars. 

On the day he was to begin his journey, he prepared himself physically and mentally for the changes.  He left his home with clarity and confidence, certain of his decision. 

He looked back one last time at his town as he started across the bridge connecting his village to the next.  Midway, he encountered a man with a rope around his waist.  “A bit peculiar” he thought, but went on with his contemplation until, suddenly, the man asked him (ever so politely) to take hold of the end of the rope and grasp it tightly.  

As the traveler reached for the rope, the man jumped over the railing of the bridge.  He clutched quickly, the weight pulling him to the metal barrier with such force that he could barely keep from going over himself.  

Catching his breath, he yelled to the man at the end of the rope. “Why did you jump? What are you doing?  Are you crazy?” And all he could hear was a faint response  “Hold tight, don’t let me go or I’ll drop to my death.”  

He did as he was told but with mounting tension.  He fumed that he might miss his well planned opportunity.  He yelled to the man several times and offered suggestions of ways in which the situation could be resolved. 

But the dangling man just yelled back, “I’m depending on you; I’m your responsibility now; you must hold me.”   

He began to mourn and then resent how his journey was being delayed. The meaning of why he was here, the path that he was to follow, all were moving out of his sights.

Finally, as he stood exhausted and emotionally drained, he yelled to the man

“I am going to start pulling on the rope, and I must feel the tension of your efforts to climb to safety or I will let go.” 

As he pulled with all his strength he could plainly feel the man was making no effort.

He warned him again, “I must see and feel you making an effort” or I WILL let go.

But as he made yet another attempt he could hear the voice saying, “I’m your responsibility.” 

                              

            He let go of the rope.

 

 

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For the sake of brevity, I adapted this fable entitled “The Bridge” written by rabbi and family therapist Dr. Edwin Friedman. I find it profoundly compelling each time I read it. 

The metaphor of holding on to the rope challenges me at several levels: the fear of risk…planning in such detail that there is little room to invite other opportunities; the concept of holding on to something so tightly that it potentially ruins plans or relationships and lastly, for me, is the sense of oppressive responsibility for others who are not assuming responsibility for themselves..

I have worked very hard to see myself as a person who could be:

                spontaneous but responsible,… present but futuristic,…

                grounded but adventuresome,… predictable but flexible…

                willing to go where no woman has dared….

but not long ago an experience reminded me how fragile the image in the mirror can be. 

This spring I went to my first auction in over 30 years with a friend. I was reluctant to get a bidding card. I felt nervous about it and incompetent. I sat through the evening both in awe of valuables items sold cheaply and junk way over priced. At the end of the night, I was introduced to  a term I‘d never heard “box lots.”

In the world of auction wheeling and dealing, bidding and outbidding, the “box lot” is the cardboard equivalent to the grab bag. Box lots are an end of the night phenomenon, a chaotic heap of things stuffed into a crumpled old box that will sell between $1.00 and $5.00, As the boxes came up for bid I couldn’t believe how nervous I got.  I wanted to take a risk and buy it for the sake of adventure and curiosity, but suddenly I was experiencing this fierce inner battle, my stomach was rumbling and I was embarrassingly indecisive…all over buying something for 5  bucks TOPS. 

Well, I did finally raise my card and got into the bidding circle but the evening stayed with me and I found myself reflecting on the meaning. I had been putting off preparing my packet to send to congregations looking for ministers. I was afraid no one would want me.   I had been holding on to some ugly and intense anger over a sense of betrayal by some long time friends.  I was a prisoner in this emotional place where holding on was so automatic I wasn’t considering options and when I did think of  letting go, I wanted guarantees…or a very well planned journey.

I really needed to reread Friedman and I needed to live my faith.

I have been here a mere five weeks and yet I have seen how tightly some are holding on to the rope. In the same breath I tell you there are others dealing with life’s surprises with incredible courage and grace:

Members battling cancer, fighting the disease and the treatment,

Others suffering from heart diseases, or impatiently pondering their medical problems

Some are mourning the loss of life partners by death, failing mental capacity or failed relationships. 

We have heard from members worried  about their children

Caring for parents, including placing moms or dads in nursing homes (knowing the end of life is just s turn away).

 

Grief can seem like an understatement…

the never anticipated words that threaten the plans,  

the well laid out plans of how life was to proceed….

and then a day arrives when you find yourself holding a rope, or examining the contents of a box lot and wondering what to do now?

 Some people turn to faith at times like these and others turn away.

 

While I know that for each of us the sorrow, the pain and the process is different, I really do believe that faith, regardless of the particulars of your theology offers hope. Liberal theology such as Unitarian Universalism emphasizes uncertainty. We have, by virtue of being here, committed to a process of search, a willingness to look beyond certitude. We have in our tradition and principles opened ourselves to a vision of human fulfillment through love and community. We have affirmed that reason and intellect spiritual growth and mutual compassion, give strength to the experiences we live and share.  

And in our best moments, we recall that faith does not guarantee a life without troubles but it does offer hope that as we move away from the explanation of why me or why suffering and towards sharing our lived experiences with others. 

In this morning’s reading and story for our youth the key was wisdom. The wisdom to remain present, curious and courageous enough to move towards renewal, towards a place of transformation, towards the sacred voices urging us to release the rope,…to buy the box lot, to take risks, to let go.  

UU theologian Thandeka writes these words which I believe guides us to the lifeline…our community of faith, which “sanctions us into being.” 

“Despair is my private pain

born from what I have failed to say

failed to do, failed to overcome.

Be still my inner self

let me rise to you, let me reach

down into your pain

and soothe you.

I turn to you to renew my life

I turn to the world, the streets of

the city, the worn tapestries of

brokerage firms,

drug dealers, private estates

personal things in the

bag lady’s cart

rage and pain in the faces that

turn from me

afraid of their own inner worlds.

This common world I love anew,

as the life blood of generations

who refused to surrender their

humanity

in an inhumane world,

courses through my veins.

From within this world

my despair is transformed to hope

and I begin anew …….the legacy of caring”

In this community I pray that we can use wisdom to know when it is the time to hold tight and when it is the time to let go as we reach out to one another. 

May we take risks that “unshatter the shattererd.”

May we feel whole even when there are no guarantees.

May our shared experiences affirm our humanity.

Tomorrow at sundown is Rosh Hashanah,

What a wonderful time to reflect and being anew.

 Blessed Be, Shalom, Om Namah Shivia, Amen

©2008 Reverend Nancy Bouchard