SERMONS

It was inevitable that I would do a sermon on balance. I've always been a klutz. It has everything to do with the image I have had of my physical self. It's not just that I was last to be picked for a sports team. It's not just that I could trip walking down a flight of stairs. I guess as much as anything it was the lack of regard I gave to things physical. Physical things never seemed terribly relevant to me.

Ten years or so ago I heard from a friend that he was planning to do a triathlon for his fortieth birthday. This seemed like a splendid idea to me. I was discovering the importance of staying in some kind of physical shape. Discovering that exercise could even be enjoyable. And I was a lot further from forty than I am now. So it seemed like something to shoot for.

I'm not making any promises. But all of this comes up at all because I have found that the physical is very relevant to me. And I am working hard to shed the image of physical inability that I gave myself and that was re-enforced throughout my childhood. One of the places I like to do this the most is at an aerobics class at the "Y." I go to several different classes, but one of them is very special. My teacher for this class is actually the inspiration for this sermon. Tiffany often speaks of balance. And she teaches the class for balance. She encourages us to balance the strength in our bodies-lower body strength and upper body strength. She speaks of inner and outer strength. Balance between the right and left sides of our bodies. I leave the class feeling more balanced than when I got there. (Probably more balanced than I do most of the time.)

I called her this week to find out more about her-to try to go deeper with her concerning balance. I was touched by her story of arriving at such a good understanding of the importance of balance in her life. I was surprised by the pain that was part of the story.

Tiffany went to New York to perform in a production of "West Side Story" when she was sixteen. It was a dream. Dancing was what she loved and what she did really well. But she wasn't there long before the injuries to her feet forced her to go back home. For six months she couldn't walk. And the dream was gone. She told me this story when I asked her what brought so much balance into her life. She faced this crisis and looked to her faith to find meaning. And now, she says, she works hard to maintain balance in her life, when it's easy, and especially when it's not so easy.

I love what Tiffany says about strength. She speaks of physical strength in a way that recognizes its connection to all of the strength in our lives. I understand what she means. I feel it when I finish her class. It is not the kind of strength that lifts heavy things or runs really fast. It is the kind of strength that simply brings the body to life. It reminds me that I have a body. And more than that. The connection to emotional, mental, and spiritual strength. Reminding me that all of these aspects of myself are relevant. Reminding me that strength requires balance within me.

Some native teachers have a graphic symbol to describe this kind of balance. When I was talking with Emily about this sermon she told me about some of her understandings of the Medicine Wheel. A spiritual symbol of native peoples, the wheel takes many forms, but fundamentally is a circle with two intersecting lines. The lines point in the four directions. The four points represent many different things. They may represent the four races, the four elements, the four directions, and the four faces of humanity-physical, mental, emotional, spiritual.

Emily gave me some material from the Cherokee tradition that describes the importance of the medicine wheel like this:

The cross at the center of the wheel represents a human being with their arms held out for balance. The Cherokee call our lives an "earthwalk." Each person has their own earthwalk, and it is often on a narrow road that is difficult to walk in balance. There are many negative influences that can make us get tired and lose our balance. The Creator knows that the good road is very narrow, and so the Creator put a gift in each of our hands to help steady us on our earthwalk.

From a people who sought wisdom and guidance from the natural world, it is not surprising that balance would be an important image. You needn't look far in nature to discover miraculous balance. The nautilus. The daisy. Pineapple and the pine cone. The intricate, and mathematically consistent patterns are a true wonder. There seems to be an urge in not only ourselves, but in the universe, for balance. In the third century Thomas Aquinas said, "The senses delight in things duly proportioned."

Other traditions offer different symbols to express this widely held truth about ourselves and the world. A symbol that is also the shape of a circle, yet strikingly different from the medicine wheel, is the Chinese symbol of yin/yang. Also a symbol of balance. One side is dark with a light circle; the other side light with a dark circle. These opposing sides represent the pairs that constitute the world. Male and female, dark and light, active and passive. As one Taoist writer has said, "…the way of Tao is the middle way. We cannot have one side without the other in life: it is wisdom to strike a balance between them both."

Speaking later about living in balance, (and echoing images from native american spiritual wisdom), the same writer, says, "If all of life can be thought of as a continuous walk along a great path, the worst thing in life is to lose one's balance on that path. That is why the ancients continually underscored the need for moderation with the word zhong." Zhong means center. You know, it's the most important thing about a circle. You can't have a circle without a center. It's the most important thing about balance. If you lose your center there is little hope of keeping your balance.

Center is one of those things that we seem to grow out of. It looks so easy in children. Caleb still has it. I hear it when he's struggling with something difficult. I can see him step back and look at something in a way that feels centering, from the outside at least. And, though I have trouble remembering it, he has his center on the monkey bars. (His black eye is not from falling off-but from getting kicked by another child swinging down off the monkey bars.) For awhile there Caleb seemed to delight in the dissonance between my perception of his balance and his ability. "Mom, watch this, it's going to be really dangerous."

Of course it turns out that his balance almost always keeps him from harm. Just as a lack of balance would be very hazardous. You must know that feeling. Walking along. Through a day. Knowing how out of balance things have become. Recognizing that there must be a center there-somewhere-you just can't quite see it right now. Times when our earthwalk, our path, feels like a highwire. Times when our arms collapse down beside us, because we are just so tired. Holding them out, even to keep our balance, is just too difficult. We could call this being out of balance. Or losing our center.

At the center of the medicine wheel is the Creator. Or meaning. Connection. I find my center in meditation. And in healthy relationships. When I have it-it's Joy. I feel grounded, and strong. Whole. When I lose it-it's Fear. I feel scattered, not strong. Fragmented.

As Tiffany said to me, it's the hardest time to find balance, and the most important. I guess for myself the important thing is simply remembering there is a center. I may not know quite where it is. Or what it is. Sometimes I may wonder if I'll ever find it again. I've heard people express this by speaking of their faith in God. Whatever we call that mysterious center, that source of meaning in our lives, living in faith with it means walking our earthwalk with assurance, even when our view to the center is obscured.

There is a teaching that goes with the medicine wheel that I really like. Some believe the Creator has given each of us two gifts, placing each of them in each of our hands. And our using them is just the thing that helps us maintain balance. In the oral tradition from Iroquois teaching, with which Emily is familiar, you can determine your gifts by your birth. Some of the gifts are learning, speaking, serving, unconditional love, honoring, listening, sharing, thanksgiving.

But really, all we need to do is search our hearts to determine our gifts. The gifts we bring to the world. That bring healing and love. That create beauty. That inspire joy. Open your hands. Open your heart. What are the gifts you bring? Now hold them gently and with appreciation. With thanksgiving.

When you lose your balance, hold your arms out to catch yourself, and remember these gifts. Use them. Let them bring you back to your center.