Sermon given at Brookfield Unitarian Universalist Church
by Rev. Craig M. Nowak
Many of you know that my husband, Kevin, is an antiques dealer and some of you know that I too have a background in art and antiques, having been an appraiser for a decade before pursuing the ministry. As you might image, in addition to dealing in or appraising art and antiques, we also are collectors. Our collecting interests include everything from antiquities to contemporary photography.
In recent years I've found myself drawn to objects made from the late 18th century though the 19th century as souvenirs for travelers on what was known as the Grand Tour. Historically speaking, the grand tour was an extended period of travel, often a year or more, undertaken by people seeking to education themselves about the world.
Grand Tours included visits to famous European cities and art collections, archeological sites within and beyond Europe, and places known for some natural wonder or healing capacity like mineral baths.
The specially created souvenirs of these places ranged from modest pieces of miscro-mosaic jewelry or engraved glassware to bronze copies of famous statues and even large suites of furniture with speciman marble tops. Indeed, there was something for nearly every taste and, to some degree, budget.
The acquisition of objects, any object, as souvenirs, that is, "tokens of remembrance" speaks to the human desire, if not need, to form and maintain connections to places, persons or events throughout our lives.
We see this at play in the story the children shared this morning where, as the characters traveled from place to place, they gradually built a collection of objects...leaves of scarlet and gold, a frog, precious stones, and seashells. The story reminds us that all of us are, to some degree, collectors.
Viewed outside the context of their journey, the objects collected by the characters in the story seem a random assemblage of things, devoid of any particular meaning or even value to the casual observer. But for the characters who chose and carried with them from place to place, each new object... those leaves, the frog, sparklin stones and shells tell a story.
Each new acquisition form part of a highly personal and unique history, revealing where the collector's life's journey has taken them, something of their aesthetic sense, and even their spiritual leanings.
In this sense, the objects themselves are more than a just leaves, an animal, rocks and shells, but a collection of what I call sacred souvenirs, which, as the collection grows over time, form a portrait of the life of the soul, an allegorical history or record pointing towards what is or was important and meaningful to the person, people or community who gathered and assembled the collection. Thus the connection the collector, conciously or not, seeks to form and maintain through the acquisition of such sacred souvenirs, is not only to a person, place, or event, but to to their deepest, truest self. Indeed, sacred souvenirs reveal not only where we've been, but to who we are.
Now, for the minimalists among us or those of you who may be thinking this seems a rather materialistic approach, let me assure you, sacred souvenirs need not be physical objects. Nor does their acquisition require travels to far off lands.
Sacred souvenirs are things we seek, find (or sometimes find us) as we travel along on our spiritual journey, the journey of lifetime whose cost and reward is not limited to dollars and cents. Sacred souvenirs may be physical objects, a one-time or ongoing experience, a relationship, an occassional event or ritual, a regular practice or routine, or the memory of any of these. Whether physical or not, sacred souvenirs are first and foremost, momentos of our spiritual journey.
Anyone who has attended a memorial or celebration of life service I've officiated at has heard me speak of the rembrances shared during a eulogy or personal reflection as sacred stories. Each individual story is itself a sacred souvenir, a memory or experience we've collected and held onto. And while the stories we share or recall at such times tells us something of the person we're remembering that day, our choice or the unexpected emergence of a paricular story or memory tells us something about ourselves as well.
A memory or collection of memories speak not only to the life we've lived, but when chosen and held up from among the innumerable memories scattered about the landscape of our lives, it also speaks to where we are right now...it reveals what we have learned and opens the opportunity to discern what direction we might yet go on our life's journey.
Similarly, the sacred souvenirs we collect as a community as we journey through the cycle of each church year and experience both the formal and informal rituals of community life and common purpose, add to the layers, textures and colors that form the portrait of the life of this church. The sacred souvenirs of a faith community tell not only the story of individual members, but of the institution itself.
Because sacred souvenirs point toward what matters most to people or groups of people, they reveal not only what was and what is, but carry the power to determine what will be. Which is why it is important for people and institutions to take a look at or examine the sacred souvenirs we've accumulated over the years and review and evaulate where we've been, where we stand, and where we're headed or called to move toward.
In the art or musuem world, this is part of the work of the curator. You might say then, that we, as people of faith and members of this church community, serve as spiritual curators, tending to and evaluating our individual and institutional collection of sacred souvenirs.
Herein lies some of the enduring value of rituals or ceremony, spiritual practice, and even physical objects. Each of these, in addition to serving as a potential sacred souvenir, themselves, provide a means to review and reflect on our story or history.
As participants inspired toward reflection through ritual or cermony, like, as I noted earlier, a memorial or celebration of life service, participation in worship or the like, we move torward becoming spiritual curators. When our spiritual practices, whatever they may be, help us to learn and grow as a person and deepen our sense of interconnectedness, then they are enabling the process toward spiritual curating. And when we look at, hold, or recall an object, like a card or note, or an item purchased in a distant land or at the Women's Alliance auction, and are reminded of a place, person or experience important to us, then too do we act as spiritual curators.
And then there's stone communion, which, rather conveniently I have to say, utilizes ritual, spiritual practice, and a physical object, something I had not really thought about or even conciously realized when I began writing today's sermon. (There's a name for this, isn't there...synchronicity, right?)
For the benefit of those who are visiting us today or who have begun to attend services here after our first service of the church year back on Sept. 7th, this congregation begins and ends each church year with a service that includes something called stone communion. So far as I know we're the only UU church who has a stone communion at all, let alone twice a year.
Whether stone communion is a ritual truly unique to our church or not, it is an enduring ritual and one that I'm sure there are as many understandings of its meaning as there are people here. With that in mind, I am not here to tell you what stone communion means, but rather I wish to to extend to you an invitation as our church year draws to a close.
The invitation is to approach stone communion as an opportunity to identify one or more of your sacred souvenirs and become a spiritual curator over the summer. Which simply means after you identify your sacred souvenir, take some time to reflect on how or what it points towards in relation to:
* Where you've been,
* Where you are now, and
* Where you might next be called on your spiritual journey.
Perhaps an easier way to remember might be to reflect on how your sacred souvenir informs your past, present and future spiritual journey.
Whether we live or die with only the clothes on our back or as owners of warehouses filled with material possessions, we all amass throughout our lives, something beyond the profane measures of wealth. We are in fact all collectors...collectors of sacred souvenirs that tell the story of our lives, show us what matters most to us at any given point in time, and reveals to us not only the condition of our individual souls, but the human condition itself in all its complexity, tragedy and beauty.
The spiritual journey is, in many ways, both a path of accumulation and of making sense or meaning from what we've gathered along the way. As we prepare to take leave of this church year and embrace the summer, may our travels be they near or far, be safe and our spiritual journey be rich with opportunities aquire and curate sacred souvenirs44. May it be so.
Stone Communion
We began this church year by bringing stones...stones to mark the gathering and building of community.
Now, with the arrival of the church year's end, we prepare to take a stone, not to mark the departure or dismantling of community, but that we might carry some piece of community forth beyond this single year and physical space.
Let the stone you choose serve as a symbol of a sacred souvenir. A souvenir you're invited to identify and then reflect on how it informs your past, present and future spiritual journey.
I invite you now to come forward in quiet reverence and reflection and choose a stone from the basket.