After a month of daily cold-water swimming and meditation, Kate will reflect on the physical, emotional, and spiritual effects of these disciplines. Understanding the science behind the practices does not reduce them to dry and rational explanations but adds to our experience of awe and wonder.
A few weeks ago Ruby introduced our series of talks on personal journeys of spirituality. She titled her talk Grappling with Spirituality, which is perhaps an appropriate title for the whole series, since here we all are in the Auckland Unitarian Church, and most of us did not start our religious or spiritual lives as Unitarians.
After volunteering to do this talk I started to wonder if I am, in fact, a spiritual person. What does that word even mean? It reminded me of teaching and lecturing at the university; there’s nothing like teaching a subject to make you realise you do not understand it at all.
According to Bishop Ussher’s treatise published in 1650, the universe began precisely on October 23, 4004 BC—at sunset. Science disagrees, — by about 13.8 billion years. This service explores how embracing scientific understanding can deepen, not diminish, our sense of awe, wonder, and the sacred.
The 23rd of October, Thursday this week, was a big one for at least two reasons. One was the mega strike of workers across many careers and across New Zealand. The second was that Thursday marked the beginning of the 6029th year since the creation of the world, according to Bishop James Ussher. He published his scientific treatise to that effect in 1650: October 22, 4004 BC, in the evening, say 6:00 pm, is when the universe was created; thus 23 October, 4004 BC was the first day.
There was some controversy about this date in Ussher’s time. Other scholars, including Isaac Newton, came up with dates ranging around 4000 BC; counts of attempted chronologies in 1861 suggested there were up to 300 different opinions of the Earth’s age, as trying to figure it out was not unusual among scholars of the time.
Today I’m going to talk about the history of the Earth and how we think about time. These have implications for the choices we make, in particular around science.
Tomorrow is Memorial Day in the U.S. It is traditionally a day to remember fallen soldiers. But this year, it feels like a memorial for something more: for a vision of the U.S. that, just six months ago, held more hope than it does today. It feels, to some, like a kind of death. Also I want to honour the many people around the world who are dying because of the actions of the current administration. I hope people in the U.S. will use it as a time for inspiration and call to action.
But today, I want to turn our attention not to political change, but to something even older and more enduring: the natural world. Today we are thinking about the importance and wonder of our interconnected web of life.
I struggled to write this talk because once I decided to write about biodiversity I convinced myself that I was writing about nature in general. I’ve been thinking for weeks that somehow I needed to convey all the wonders of nature and bring you onboard with me in 12 minutes. How can I talk about biodiversity without talking about all the animals and plants and fungi that I love? And then I heard Clay’s voice – when people are new to preaching the most common mistake is to do too much. You can do another talk. Keep each one focused and keep to the point.
So today we are talking about biodiversity because Thursday was the International Day for Biological Diversity, the day founded by the United Nations to promote not only nature in general but specifically biological diversity. Our seventh principle is Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part. This principle doesn’t just invite us to care for nature generally. It calls us to recognize, celebrate, and protect the diversity of life—the intricate systems that support the very possibility of existence.
As far as I can tell looking through the archives we’ve had two services in which the musings were about Ramadan. In both cases Clay introduced the services by talking about violence associated with Islam. In 2017 it followed a week in which there had been six terrorist attacks around the world, all of which involved Muslims as either perpetrators or victims. He presented a talk by another Unitarian minister on religious fundamentalism in Islam and other religions.
In May, 2019, the talk followed the murder of 51 Muslims at a mosque in Christchurch. In that case Clay used text from a convert to Islam answering some basic questions about Islam and Ramadan.
I would love to have an occasion to talk about Islam without mentioning violent extremism, but it is impossible not to mention the on-going war in Gaza and to acknowledge that violence against Muslims by Christians, Jews, and other Muslims pervades our world. The persistent and wide-spread Western association between Islam and violence leads to prejudice and racist speech and behaviour, so it is everyone’s problem.
Given that we’ve been communicating with each other since birth, it’s a wonder that it is still so difficult for most of us. Too often, we misunderstand, hurt and offend each other and only listen to each other enough to be able to rebut the other person’s point of view. Although our second principle includes striving for compassion in human relations, often our communication is anything but. Maybe there’s a better way.
I’m very aware that this is the first service since Clay died that we’re not using one of his talks. I’ve been on the calendar for months, and Ted and I decided that this would be an alright topic for today since we’re hurting and I hope that some of these words may be useful for all of us in dealing with grief.
I also feel the need to give a disclaimer because I’m an academic, and this isn’t my field. I am talking about self-compassion because becoming more compassionate towards myself and others is a path that I am on and something I’m striving for. I have become interested in the psychology behind it and have done some reading, and I’m convinced that most of us can benefit from an increased dose of self-kindness.
Nō Ingarangi, Kōtirana, Tiamana me Huiterangi ōku tīpuna
I whānau mai au i Hartford, Connecticut, Ngā Whenua Tōpū o Amerika
I tupu ake au i Baltimore, Maryland, Ngā Whenua Tōpū o Amerika
I tae mai au ki Aotearoa i te tau rua mano mā waru
Ko Martha’s Vineyard tōku karanga motu
Ko Tiasquam tōku karanga awa
Ko Vineyard Haven Moana tōku karanga moana
Kei Hauraki / North Shore o Tāmaki Makaurau ahau e noho ana
Ko Kate ahau
My ancestors hail from England, Scotland, Germany and Switzerland
I was born in Hartford, Connecticut, USA
I was raised in Baltimore, Maryland, USA
I arrived in New Zealand in the year 2008
Martha’s Vineyard is the island that calls to me
The Tiasquam is the river that calls to me
Vineyard Haven is the harbor that calls to me
I am currently living in Hauraki on the North Shore of Auckland
I am Kate
Many of us have lost a sense of belonging in one place or another, having made a life around the world from where we were born and grew up. There is a longing for a beloved past and people, and despair when we realize that when we go back everything has changed and feel grief at what has been lost.