Divinity Within

Sermon Divinity Within
Copyright 2014 Dr. Jennifer Thomson
Non-commercial use encouraged with credit to author and source.

North Shore Unitarian Church

Deerfield, Illinois

 October 12, 2014

     “Whatever God is, I believe that I am a part of that.” Bishop Spong’s words came to me via my mom, my Aunt Mary, and long-time family friend Art Johnson. These good Presbyterian folks emailed me—a Unitarian Universalistessays by a retired Episcopal Bishop. Spong’s theology here came to mind as I began to learn about the Hindu festival of Diwali.
     The more I read about Diwali, the more associations with familiar North American customs came to mind.
Mexico’s Dia de los Muertos, a modern version of ancient Aztec observances, as well as Halloween, descendent of ancient Celtic Samhain and Medieval Christian All Souls’ Day from, are all celebrated at the same time of year as Diwali: the end of October through the beginning of November. All these holidays celebrate the dead—although Halloween disguises its sacred ancestry behind superhero costumes and bags of candy.
     As surely as we recognize the neighbor kids behind their Batman masks and ghoulish make up, we can detect the sacred ancestry behind the secular trappings of Halloween celebrations. That probably doesn’t surprise many Unitarian Universalists. What did surprise me were the many similarities between small town Midwestern Halloween celebrations and traditional Hindu Diwali celebrations in India.
Hinduism is the world’s oldest living religion. It is a rich collection of hundreds of spiritual and philosophical traditions followed throughout Asia for more than 5000 years. Most traditions within Hinduism share certain distinctive, core beliefs despite the absence of an identifiable beginning in history, single founder, central religious establishment or sole authoritative scripture. Two of these core beliefs are that of tolerance and pluralism. While tolerance and pluralism are valued by many religions, these concepts are the very essence of Hinduism and are expressed through the diversity of Hindu practice and centuries of peaceful coexistence of various faiths.
. . .
By accepting the divinity in all beings, Hinduism views the universe as a family or, in Sanskrit, vasudhaiva kutumbakam. All beings [from the smallest to the largest] , from the smallest organism to man, are considered manifestations of God. (Hinduism 101)

     Diwali is also known as Deep/a’wali, which means “row of lights.” Just as Hinduism itself mingles a rich variety of many different religious traditions, different parts of India attribute the origins and meanings of Diwali to diverse gods and goddesses. Many different traditions shape many different ways to celebrate this holiday.
     Some aspects of Diwali span all these differences. Amidst all the various origin legends and celebration rituals, fireworks and lamp flames remain constants. They represent the common theme among Diwali celebrations: the victory of good over evil. The fireworks frighten away evil (and the mosquitoes brought by the preceding rainy season). The lamp flames represent the inner illumination of goodness that can overcome evil.
     Sort of like the way candles inside Jack-O-Lanterns scare the ghosts that come to our doors looking for candy. At the same time, the illumination from within these hollowed out pumpkins shines out into the early darkness of the days halfway between the autumnal equinox and the winter solstice.
     Diwali sounds like a riotously fun religious celebration—flames light up the early darkness; firecrackers set adrenalin racing (and chase away those mosquitoes); the smell of incense wafts through the night air. People dress up for Diwali—but they dress in new clothes rather than as Pirates or Princesses. Whole towns celebrate together in the streets.
     Giving and forgiving as sacred acts accompany the secular completion of the harvest and the beginning of a new fiscal year. The spiritual act of charity is associated with hope for prosperity in the coming year. Diwali celebrations remind people to practice generosity and forgiveness; neighbors who fought with each other the week before celebrate together, hugging in the streets.
     
     Very few national cultural festivals in the US involve people mingling in the streets, walking from house to house to greet neighbors. On Halloween people socialize not just with family & friends or with members of their own churches or with business associates—on this night, people take their children door to door among neighbors they might not have much to do with the rest of the year.
     From one perspective, Halloween is a public promotion of greed and an invitation to diabetes. But the candy gets people out of their houses to join in the public celebration. I live in East Troy, a pretty typical small Wisconsin town. The same families have lived there for generations. I’m a bit of a newcomer because it’s only been about 24 years since I bought my house there. Long-term residents know each other’s families through a number of generations—and they keep track of us new folks. I’m still a bit of an outsider, though I have a few connections in the community.
     On Halloween, neighbors I rarely see parade past my front porch, in packs or one family at a time. Some of these might be the same neighbors who complain to the village about my yard, which prompts the village to send me notices that demand I comply with village ordinances. (I like a little more wilderness than the village allows.) On Halloween, these neighbors walk past and ask me how my house is coming along—they were likely all gathered there the night of the fire five years ago. Many of them unreeled the next door neighbor’s garden hose and sprayed down the north side of the house--an act which likely saved the house. All of them have watched reconstruction of my home and garden since then. Halloween provides an opportunity for fun interactions. It’s a good reminder that the complaints are trivial. The community is important.
     The fun is genuine too. Many of the trick-or-treating families bring their dogs along for the excitement—and some of the dogs wear costumes, too. My all-time favorite is the mid-sized dog dressed as a lobster.



  


   One Halloween, I sat in my front yard, next to—how to describe it?—next to a 4-foot section of blue spruce trunk, split vertically. It stands on its side atop legs formed by the remaining ends of sawed off branches. Neighbor complaints about the beautiful tree growing over both the front sidewalk and side sidewalk finally convinced me that the 30-foot tree had to come down.
     A neighbor kid—OK, so he’s somewhere around 25 now, but he’s been helping take care of my yard since he knocked on my door one day about 10 years ago and asked if he could mow my lawn. I looked at him, then at the village notice on the counter, and said, “You’ve got the job!”
     This young neighbor recently took his chain saw to a section of the blue spruce trunk. Now it’s kind of a narrow table with a chain-saw carved face that sort of, if you have a good imagination, looks like a dog. The Halloween treat bowls sat on that odd dog’s back next to my lawn chair. Scary Halloween sounds floated out of hidden speakers. A couple of skate-boarding trick-or-treaters stopped to talk with me for a bit, impressed with how cool my table was. Not many events in town would inspire neighborly visits among such a diversity of people. (And it’s the only celebration that includes carving faces in pumpkins.)
     Lighting hollowed-out pumpkins with candles is a strange ritual that I’ve always liked because of the cold squishy pumpkin guts and the difficulty of designing a scary face that I can actually carve. And you can eat the seeds. In light of the similar cultural function served by Halloween and Diwali, Jack-O-Lanterns become interesting physical representations of Diwali's central Hindu concept: the triumph of good over evil.
     No mean trick, that. Diwali lamp flames and glowing Jack-O-Lanterns can both serve as reminders—to cultivate the inner illumination of goodness, the divinity within each of us that shines outward.
     I’m all for a good party, especially one that involves lights in the lengthening nights we experience around here between October and March.

  •         Celebration in and of itself serves a basic spiritual need, the need to rejoice.
  •    Celebration in community with others multiplies the spiritual benefits:
o   putting aside antagonisms;
o   practicing forgiveness and generosity between firecrackers;
o   and especially—embracing the message of the bright lamps, the reminders of the divinity within all beings.
I know I can use that kind of reminder, especially during the increasingly long nights of winter.
     After the 4-Day festival of Diwali, after all the Jack-o-Lanterns wither into wrinkled heaps, the real trick is to remember and act on, “the light that empowers us to commit ourselves to good deeds, that which brings us closer to divinity.” One Hindu writer notes:
Deepavali is a great unifying force. Those with keen inner spiritual ears will clearly hear the voice of the sages, "O Children of God unite, and love all".” . . . only a continuous celebration of Deepavali in our homes can rekindle in us the urgent need of turning away from the ruinous path of hatred. (Das, “Diwali”)
Diwali reminds us to tend to our own inner fires, not only for ourselves, but also so we can let the divinity within shine out and light the path of goodness for others.
     When the old family friend and my mom and my Aunt Mary emailed me essays from Bishop Spong’s blog, they passed along both Spong’s inner goodness and their own. One way to keep the illumination of Diwali continuously burning is through the help of those you love. When these people who love me sent me Spong's essays, they kindled my inner light—an early step on my journey toward Unitarian Universalist ministry.
      Each person’s goodness kindles goodness in others. Each light, each instance of your divinity within shining out, reaches far beyond you and those you know to feed countless other flames.
     We are social creatures. We respond to those around us; we depend on those around us—and they depend on us. May the celebrations of mid-autumn remind you to light the fire of love within your own heart, a love that fuels goodness and douses the power of evil. May each trick-or-treater bring a greater brightness into your inner life, a brightness that lights up the world around you.

I bow to the light of divinity within you.
Namaste.
नमस्त



Sources:

Das, Subhamoy, “Diwali: Festival of Lights; Light Up Your Life!” About.com Hinduism. http://hinduism.about.com/od/diwalifestivaloflights/a/diwali.htm

Day of the Dead.” Wikipedia. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Day_of_the_Dead

“Namaste.” Wikipedia. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Namaste

Montley, Patricia. “Festival of the Dead.” UUWorld Online. 31 October 2005. www.uuworld.org

Spong, Bishop John Shelby. “Stephen Hawking and the Death of Theism.” A New Christianity for a New World: Bishop John Shelby Spong on the News and Christian Faith. 10 Oct 2010.  http://www.johnshelbyspong.com/publicsite/index.aspx

“Tolerance and Pluralism: The Essence of Hinduism.” Hinduism 101: Hinduism Basics. Hindu American Foundation.  http://www.hafsite.org/resources/hinduism_101/hinduism_basics

Unitarian Universalist Association. Singing the Living Tradition. Boston: UUA, 1993.


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