"Crossroads"
Dr. Gary Jackoway
May 23, 2001
In the thesaurus, one will find the word "Crossroads"
referenced in five different sections. First, in the section "Way
or Road". Second, as a circumstance or condition: "Russia
at a crossroads," for example. Third, under "Focus or
Place of Meeting". Fourth, in the section on "Union or
Joining". And last, in the section on Divergence. It is interesting
that crossroads is to some extent its own antonym. A crossroads
can be a coming together or a parting of ways.
Lets begin by considering a "Crossroads" as a gathering
place. One will often find the word Crossroads used as a description
of special places, such as the Middle East. The Middle East is the
Crossroads of Africa, Europe and Asia. For thousands of years so
many people have fought and died to control that Crossroads. A Crossroads
can be a boiling trouble-filled place. But it can also be an exciting
place, a place of great promise. It is at the crossroads that ideas
are exchanged along with goods. A church, too, is a crossroads where
ideas are exchanged. And a church, too, can be an exciting place
to be.
When used in the sense of a circumstance or condition, it is not
uncommon for a church to find itself at a crossroads. My home church,
the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Newark, found itself at
just such a crossroads when our minister resigned under less than
auspicious circumstances some five years ago, which made our church
life exciting indeed. As a member of the ministerial search committee,
I was assigned the duty of locating new leadership for the fellowship.
Before we could begin in earnest looking for a new minister we needed
to understand not just where we were but also where we wanted to
go: which path we wanted to take at the crossroads. A key part of
the process was developing this book which describes both who we
the UUFN are and also who we want to become. This book acted both
as our description to potential ministers and also as a guide for
us in the selection process.
One aspect of our fellowship that is clear from this book is that
even as our membership has grown to 200, the Unitarian Universalist
Fellowship of Newark has always had an intense desire to maintain
fellowship status - that is, our laity is involved in all aspects
of the church - but it is undeniable that the minister is still
the most visible and essential leadership position in our church.
Imagine then, we were without our key leadership position, so what
do we do? We take eight other key lay leaders and hole them up in
the search committee. Just keeping the fellowship going through
that trying time was quite a struggle. I know that you're church
is also in need of a settled minister, and I'm here to tell you
that we have made it to the other side and we are stronger for it.
That challenging time created opportunities for individuals to step
forward and take responsibilities they otherwise might not have
considered.
Having faith that you will find yourselves soon enough on the other
side, let me warn you about one or two traps that await. One trap
is expecting your new minister to know your expectations. An example.
Our new minister did the flower communion in the spring two years
ago, but he did not use the hymn Mother Spirit, Father Spirit. Now
in my fellowship the flower communion and that hymn are synonymous.
As head of the worship committee, I was asked by various members,
what WAS our new minister thinking? Well, when we talked about it
in our worship committee meeting, our minister said that his previous
church never used that hymn as part of the flower communion, and
why didn't we tell him it was so important? My response was twofold:
first, it never occurred to me he wouldn't use the hymn, and second
I hadn't realized how important it was to us until it was missing.
A little understanding on both sides, I assure you, will go a long
way.
Another trap was that having found our new minister we arrived
at a completely different crossroads. Just keeping it together had
become our modus operandi, our way of operating. But now that we
have our settled minister, we need to stretch our wings - to become
the fellowship that we envisioned ourselves to be. I call it moving
from "survive to thrive". I'm just completing service
on our Long Range Planning Committee, which I hope will provide
the framework for propelling the UUFN forward in its mission.
It seems surprising to me anyway that I find myself in so many
roles within my fellowship. I can't help but think that some of
the skills that make me useful in these roles are based on my birth
order. I am a middle child; and Dr. Alfred Adler found that middle
children tend to be mediators, integrators. We bring together diverse
interests and try to create a peaceful whole. The intersection of
various ideas is a Crossroads. For it is at the Crossroads that
synergy - a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts -- is
possible.
What originally caused me to consider the concept of a Crossroads
was a much-ignored movie of that title, starring Ralph Macchio -
you know, the Karate Kid. It was made in '86 right around the time
of Karate Kid II. Ralph plays a musical prodigy who is drawn to
the Blues. On the surface, the Crossroads in the movie is that place
where one makes a deal with the devil, selling one's soul for fame
and fortune. But what I found intriguing was that the lead character
is told by the "legitimate" musical authorities at Julliard
that Blues music is worthless; and he is told by the Blues musician
he teams up with that the fancy licks he learned at Julliard have
nothing to do with the Blues. Yet what transforms the lead character
and what literally saves his soul, is his ability to integrate these
two art forms. He is not complete until he brings the two together.
For me, the ability to combine disparate ideas is a strength I feel
I embody primarily due to birth order. Being the middlest of three
brothers, I often found myself in the role of peacemaker, of mediator.
I use that capability at home, in my job, and at my fellowship.
But the middle child's psychological role of "crossing guard"
at the Crossroads is only one aspect of what Crossroads means to
me. A Crossroads can also be seen as a major decision point in one's
life, a crisis, a "dangerous opportunity".
When one comes to a Crossroads, one has to make a choice: go left,
go right, continue, turn back, or even stop at this juncture. What
appears to be a small decision may have radical consequences.
In 1983, my wife Ingrid and I were in graduate school in North
Carolina. We arrived home on a rainy October evening to find a cold,
wet, flea-infested puppy on our porch. We took her in and cleaned
her up. I remember feeding her hot dogs that night, not having any
pet food in our graduate school basement apartment. We put up signs
and contacted the Humane Society, but after a week it was pretty
clear that no one was going to come forward. The choice was clear
- take her to the pound or adopt her. We decided to keep Carly and
she was with us for 14 years. I believe that our caring for Carly
not only helped prepare us for having children, but may also have
helped save our marriage. Carly arrived at a difficult time for
us, exacerbated by long school hours and forced separations for
graduate internships. Carly's care and feeding was something we
could safely cooperate on. It is hard to imagine what our lives
would have been like without Carly, but there is no doubt that that
one decision to keep Carly profoundly affected who we are today.
But the aspect of Crossroads that finally hooked me, and that helped
me define my theology was this: every day, every hour, every second,
every instant is a Crossroads. We make a choice at every moment.
For example, I could stop right now, mid-sermon as it were, and
walk out the door.…
And I could make that decision at any moment.
The impact of that decision would be far-reaching (for me anyway).
The funny thing is that it doesn't seem like we have options continuously,
but we do. We live our lives like an out-of-control truck bombing
down a mountain road - intersections come and go so quickly we cannot
even read the signs. But this is not reality. The reality is that
we choose to keep going. We choose the path we are most comfortable
with.
Let me tell you an old Buddhist story.
A student is talking with a Zen master. In the middle of the conversation,
the Zen master says, "There goes one." A few minutes later,
the master says, "There goes another." And a few moments
later, "There goes another". "Master," the student
asks, "what is it you see going by?" The master replies,
"Why there goes another one - another moment when you are not
enlightened."
Every moment is an opportunity, a chance, a Crossroads.
Many of these Crossroads are small things. We rarely have the fortitude
to completely change the way we live in a single instant. Instead,
we move in small, incremental steps. We turn a little bit at each
step until we are going in quite a different direction. My involvement
in worship services is a good example. A dozen years ago, having
only recently joined a UU in Colorado, I was a participant in a
group worship service. Then I worked on a service with our minister
at the UUFN. Then I developed a service that the minister and I
gave. Then I worked on a service with a worship partner. I also
helped ministers who came to the UUFN to speak. A few years ago,
I presented a service on my own. And now I have the chance to take
my services to churches even a thousand miles from home. Step-by-step
my confidence grew, and, hopefully, my abilities with it. It is
said that the journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step.
I believe that our lives are defined by the choices we make, by
the way we handle ourselves at the Crossroads we see and at the
continual Crossroads we miss. There may be nothing we can do about
our genetic makeup, or about the way our parents raised us, or about
the accident that could be waiting around the next corner, but there
is something we can do about the vast majority of decisions we make
every day. We are in control of our decisions, and if there is a
more traditional God, a God who sits in His big chair and judges
us, let Him judge us on the basis of our decisions. And all I can
say is that I hope He grades on a curve.
My view of crossroads and choices are hardly in keeping with my
familial background. My father, a philosopher by training, has a
mechanistic worldview. He believes we could no more change paths
than a dropped anvil could suddenly decide to go up rather than
down. Our path is predetermined, turns and all. Certainly many modern
philosophers and scientists since the time of Descartes have found
this philosophy appealing, but I find it sterile and uninspiring.
To follow the analogy, the anvil can be made to go up. To change
the direction of the anvil takes determination and support, but
mainly it takes energy. It takes energy for us to defy the training
of socialization, but we can do it. It takes energy to break the
bonds of our genetic programming, but we can do it. It takes energy
to risk giving up the safety of the known, but we can do it. It
takes energy to turn away from the path of least resistance, but
we can do it.
I know that I could do more to make this world a better place.
But I also know that I am making an effort. I am trying to help
others in ways that I can. I am attempting to raise a pair of responsible
children who understand that we individually can have an impact
on this world. I took my son Alan to Hope Dining Room, a program
the UUFN supports, that serves lunch to anyone who needs it. I wanted
him to see that we can, through our own hands make a difference.
That there are needy people and that he can help, even if just by
dishing out meals. I'm proud of the fact that I belong to a congregation
that makes a commitment to help those in need.
Let me quote from "Ethics for a New Millenium" by His
Holiness, the Dalai Lama:
"Education is much more than a matter of imparting the knowledge
and skills by which narrow goals are achieved. It is also about
opening the child's eyes to the needs and rights of others. We must
show children that their actions have a universal dimension. And
we must somehow find a way to build on their natural feeling of
empathy so that they come to have a sense of responsibility toward
others. For it is this which stirs us into action."
While some religions are about heaven and hell, about where the
paths lead, I think Unitarian-Universalism is about the path itself,
the decisions we make at each Crossroads. UU is about personal responsibility,
not personal salvation.
Some conservatives claim that "liberals" don't believe
in personal responsibility. My take on UU is that it puts personal
responsibility front and center. Our movement should not let others
define what we are about - our movement is about helping people
so that they are able to assume responsibility. It is about removing
the blockades that keep people from asserting their own unique gifts,
removing the blockades that trap people. Only when one is free from
societal racism, sexism, homophobism, ageism, and other impediments,
only then can one be expected to achieve what one is truly capable
of. To take hold of the opportunities available.
The process of life itself takes energy and reforms it in new ways.
And it is this reforming, this reshaping, this choosing among options,
this selecting of directions, that defines who we are. A few years
back I came upon the process theology of the mathematician and philosopher
A. N. Whitehead.
Let me tell you a little about Whitehead. At the turn of the century,
he and Russell worked for years on the seminal work Principia Mathematica.
This tome attempted to develop all of mathematics from first principles
- a task not undertaken since Euclid and the Greeks tried it two
thousand years ago. After his masterwork was published, an Austrian
named Goedel pointed out in a simple proof (the proof took me one
college quarter to complete - simple is relative), that there was
this vast and overarching hole in Whitehead's work. The goal is
in fact impossible. In any consistent mathematical system, Goedel
showed, there are some statements that can be neither proved nor
disproved. Though Goedel's theorem takes some of the shine off Whitehead's
work, Principia Mathematica is nonetheless an awe-inspiring accomplishment.
Whitehead saw an object as being defined not by its mass, position
and velocity, not by its physicality. He saw an object as being
defined by what it did, how it behaved. Further, Whitehead found
that God is not inconsistent with this process view. God is "The
One Who Calls" us forward. "The One Who Calls". This
is a view of God I respond to. Not a clockmaker God who sets the
world in motion and watches it spin; not an intrusive God who interferes
on a constant basis. But a God who calls me forward, urging me to
become the best "me" I can.
I should warn you that Whitehead writes rather like the mathematician
that he was. His text is not an easy read. As such, I'll not try
to bring his words forward to today's standards of gender neutrality.
Let me give you some of the flavor of his main philosophical work:
Process and Reality:
God is the organ of novelty, aiming at intensification. He is
the lure for feeling, the eternal urge of desire. His particular
relevance to each creative act… constitutes him the initial
"object of desire" establishing the initial phase of each
subjective aim. Apart from the intervention of God, there would
be nothing new in the world, and no order in the world… The
novel feelings derived from God are the foundations of progress.
The wisdom of God's subjective aim prehends every actuality for
what it can be - its sufferings, its sorrows, its failures, its
triumphs, its immediacies of joy - woven by rightness of feeling
into the harmony of the universal feeling, which is always immediate,
always many, always one, always with novel advance moving onward
and never perishing. The revolts of destructive evil, purely self-regarding,
are dismissed into their triviality of merely individual facts;
and yet the good they did achieve in individual joy, in individual
sorrow, in the introduction of needed contrast, is yet saved by
relation to the completed whole. The image - and it is but an image
- the image under which this operative growth of God's nature is
best conceived, is that of a tender care that nothing be lost. The
consequent nature of God is his judgment on the world. He saves
the world as it passes into immediacy of his own life. It is the
judgment of a tenderness which loses nothing that can be saved.
It is also the judgment of a wisdom which uses what in the temporal
world is mere wreckage.
If science tells us the how of evolution, The One Who Calls explains
the why. We are called forward to evolve and improve by that inexorable
voice. Let me quote from a website devoted to process theology:
"God is the energy event who calls all other energy events
forward to greater complexity or beauty. Beauty equals variety and
intensity... There is ground for hope, because God is constantly
at work seeking to lead all of reality toward a better tomorrow."
Let me give you a practical application of this philosophy. I needed
some dental work done -- two appointments, one for each side of
my mouth. After the dentist finished the right side I felt terrible.
I got in my car and had to just sit for a few minutes before I could
drive to work. Two weeks ago, in the midst of working on this service,
I went in to have the left side done. I decided to concentrate on
The One Who Calls during the appointment. I thought about the purpose
of pain in encouraging us to move forward, to recognize and deal
with problems, to empathize with others. I told myself that this
procedure was just a process, that it too would pass.
Now I don't know how much this attitude affected the result, but
all I can tell you is that, while not pleasant, it really wasn't
that uncomfortable. Maybe my left side wasn't as bad as my right.
Maybe the dentist was in a better mood and performed better -- I
noticed him humming while he worked. But the net result was that
I left the office humming too. I was actually in a better mood when
I left than when I arrived. And I believe that my decision to focus
on "The One Who Calls" during the appointment changed
the atmosphere for the good.
We all live our lives in a swirl of decisions, never knowing what
the results would be if we chose differently, never knowing how
large our role in the results really is. This conundrum has inspired
many films. Its a Wonderful Life answers the fundamental question,
What would happen if I were never born? The less-highly acclaimed
Back To The Future revolves around one kiss that occurred twenty
years earlier. A personal favorite of mine, Groundhog's Day gives
Bill Murray the opportunity to try one day over and over again until
he gets it right. And another favorite: Sliding Doors, in which
Gwyneth Paltrow plays a woman whose life takes a dramatic turn depending
on whether she catches a subway train.
Unfortunately, we are trapped with the decisions we have made -
we don't get even a glimpse of the path not taken. Dayton Duncan,
whom you might remember from the Lewis and Clarke series on PBS
put it this way, "History is the series of choices that we
make." But I prefer a quote from a song by Moody Blues, "With
your arms around the future and your back up against the past".
This image has haunted me for many years. With our arms around the
future but our back up against the past. That is how we typically
live our lives. Desperately trying to grab the future, desperately
trapped by the past that was only in part of our making. And never
noticing the present that is the only aspect over which we have
any real control. As Whitehead puts it:
The world is thus faced by the paradox that, at least in its higher
actualities, it craves for novelty and yet is haunted by terror
at the loss of the past, with its familiarities and its loved ones…
The ultimate evil in the temporal world is deeper than any specific
evil. It lies in the fact that the past fades, that time is "perpetual
perishing".
We appear, and I say we appear, to be trapped with our arms around
the future and our back up against the past. The answer to the conundrum
is in the title of the Moody Blues song from which the quote comes.
The song is titled: "The Voice". The Voice is, I believe,
Whitehead's "One Who Calls". I believe that we all know
in our hearts what is right and what is wrong; we all know in our
hearts how we should behave; we all know in our hearts when we are
living up to our potential; we all have access to the truth - the
challenge is hearing that truth. And hearing that truth is very
hard work.
To hear the truth we have to break through egocentricity and self-hate.
To hear the truth we have to break through materialism and altruism.
To hear the truth we have to break through bad and good. To hear
the truth we have to break through hate and love.
We need to listen to the voice - The One Who Calls - for within
the voice we will find our own truth. When we hear the voice we
know which turn to take at each and every Crossroads. The Voice
calls us forward on our path. What may seem difficult becomes clear
and obvious when we hear the voice. Let me ask you, when you have
a difficult decision to make, is it easier to make in the swirl
and confusion of the voices around you, or is it easier to make
when you are able to step back, calm down and listen to that inner
voice. The One Who Calls. This philosophy is truly Universal. Every
one of us has that inner voice; all we need do is listen. There
are many ways to achieve a state where we can listen. For some it
may require praying, for others meditation, for others sitting zazen,
for others mowing the grass. But whatever the mechanism, we all
have that voice waiting to be heard.
When I listen to the Voice, when I am truly able to hear, the message
goes beyond just making difficult decisions. The message that I
get when I really listen is both simple and beautiful: We Are All
One. We are not just connected. We Are One.
My reality of being a separate being trapped between the future
and the past is an illusion. When I really listen to the Voice I
understand that I am part of something greater. And that something
is all of us - all of life. What harms one harms all because we
are one. What helps one helps all because we are one. Compassion
is as natural as your left and right hand working together.
The Dalai Lama says it this way:
"If the self had intrinsic identity, it would be possible
to speak in terms of self-interest in isolation from that of others'.
But because this is not so, because self and others can only be
understood in terms of relationship, we see that self-interest and
others' interest are closely interrelated. Indeed, within this picture
of dependently originated reality, we see that there is no self-interest
completely unrelated to others' interest. Due to the fundamental
interconnectedness which lies at the heart of reality, your interest
is also my interest. From this, it becomes clear that "my"
interest and "your" interest are intimately connected.
In a deep sense, they converge."
Teilhard de Chardin, in "Science and Christ", puts it
like this:
"Hitherto, the prevailing view has been that the body (that
is to say, the matter that is incommunicably attached to each soul)
is a fragment of the universe - a piece completely detached from
the rest and handed over to a spirit that informs it. In the future,
we shall say that the Body is the very Universality of things, in
as much as they are centred on an animating Spirit, influenced and
sustained by it… My own body is not these cells or those cells
that belong exclusively to me: it is what, in these cells and in
the rest of the world, feels my influence and reacts against me.
My matter is not a part of the universe that I possess [in total]:
it is the totality of the Universe possessed by me [in part]."
And Whitehead says:
It is as true to say that God is permanent and the World fluent,
as that the World is permanent and God is fluent. It is as true
to say that God is one and the World many, as that the World is
one and God many. It is as true to say that the World is immanent
in God, as that God is immanent in the World. It is a true to say
that God transcends the World as that the World transcends God.
It is as true to say that God creates the World, as that the World
creates God.
We Are One with The One Who Calls. That is what The Voice is saying
to me. What is the voice saying to you?
References:
Ethics in the New Millennium by His Holiness The Dalai
Lama. Riverhead Books, 1999.
A Key to Whitehead's Process and Reality, edited by Donald
W. Sherburne. The University of Chicago Press, 1966.
Teilhard de Chardin's quote from Science and Christ was
reprinted from Process Theology - An Introductory Exposition,
by John B. Cobb, Jr. and David Ray Griffin. The Westminster Press,
1976.
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