Rev. Greg Ward and Cassie Winters
Unitarian Universalist Community Church of Santa Monica
October 21, 2018
CALL TO WORSHIP (Cassie Winters, Worship Associate)
When I “briefly” wrote up my #metoo story last night to write this Call to Worship…it came out to be more the length of a sermon. And whether or not there is a sermon in my story, I’m yet not ready to do a sermon. And even though I’d rather wait for a more perfect moment, today I heed the call because I feel compelled to sing.
Paul Laurence Dunbar wrote a poem called, “Sympathy.” Maya Angelou entitled her first autobiography, “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings” based on the 3rd stanza of this poem. In part, it reads,
“It is not a carol of joy or glee,
but a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core,
but a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings
I know why the caged bird sings!”
A plea…that upward to Heaven he flings!
Some people hear you and some people don’t. And both of those types of people fall all across the gender spectrum.
I was a caged bird…and I sang. Well, mostly for many years, I tentatively chirped softly. I chirped softly and surreptitiously wanting someone to hear, to notice that from the time I was 5 to the time I was 10, I was being abused by my uncle.
No one really heard me. There came a time when I drew a line in the sand…and I sang!
I sang until I was heard because I was terrified when they brought him home to live with us when I was 16. My dad heard, but my grandfather didn’t want to hear. I won’t trust you if you won’t hear me and I will probably remove you from my life.
I was one of the lucky ones (she says with some sarcasm) because I had not been physically injured and I found attention, affection and pleasure there. For many years I blamed and shamed myself feeling absolutely certain that I should have known better. And I was often reminded of this shame by a smell. Smells get processed by the olfactory bulb, which is closely connected to your amygdala and hippocampus…the parts of the brain that handle memory and emotion.
It wasn’t until I was in graduate school at Stanford, where Dr. Christine Blasey (you may know her as Dr. Christine Blasey Ford) set upon us an assignment where we were to observe children of different ages. As I observed my 5-year-old niece, I finally, finally heard my 5-year-old self as well. There was no way she could have known better. She only wanted attention and affection.
I’d like to read you a few lines from a blessing written
by Rev. Anna Blaedel on the Enfleshed FB page:
“Blessed are we when we dare to dream of a world
without sexual violence,
without white supremacy,
without misogyny,
without police brutality,
without anti-trans and anti-queer violence.
Blessed are we when we stay tender.
Blessed are we when we stay fierce.
Blessed are we when we dare to imagine repair, and transformation.
(And for this congregation especially today…)
Blessed are we when we labor together to make it so.”
I felt compelled to speak today because I know that there are people who hear and people who don’t. My charge to you is to be people who hear and sing. When you are scared and traumatized it can be so difficult to sing and I want you to sing—and to sing with those who have, for those who haven’t yet and for those who can’t. With everyone hearing and everyone singing we might finally break free of this cage.
CHALICE LIGHTING (chosen / arranged by the Worship Associate)
"To the hundreds of men on my friends list: Be gentle with the women in your lives. You are likely not to understand how traumatizing this last few weeks has been. Women are suffering a lot as they are reliving all the stories they never told. You may not understand why the women you love are on edge, so I’m telling you. Those of us who are in women-only spaces or in professions that put us in proximity to each other’s pain can attest to the intensity of this week.”
Rev. Peggy Clark
(Put a light in your heart. Shine it in the direction of the women you come across. Show them you’re paying attention. Be compassionate)
STORY FOR ALL AGES Kathleen Hogue
Our 4th Principle is: the “free and responsible search for truth and meaning.”
“One thing I love about being Unitarian Universalist is that, even when we think we know or believe something, we get to question it and even change our mind. That’s the “responsible” part of our search for what’s true: Unitarian Universalists try to keep an open mind and allow new information to re-shape what we believe is true.”
“But what if you KNOW absolutely that something is true and no one believes you?
When I was about six years old my sister and I were chewing this gum called Hubba Bubba. It was called that because you could blow big bubbles with it. Well my sister blew the biggest alright. It ended up all over my face and in my long blonde hair. She laughed and then spit out the rest of the gum into my hair. When my mom saw the mess she was mad at me. I told her my sister did it but my sister said that I was lying….that I had done it myself. My mom did not believe me, even though I was telling the truth. My mom then got the scissors and cut off all of my hair. She said that would teach me to tell the truth.
Has anything like that ever happened to you? (Take answers)
How did that make you feel? What can you do about it? (We can only keep telling the truth)
In a perfect world others will listen to you with an open mind and believe you. This is what UUs try to do.
Some people say "A single word of Falsehood can completely destroy Truth.”
I like the saying: "Like a small candle in the dark, Truth can change every situation."
So I will light this candle of truth to leave with you in the sanctuary for the rest of the service this morning.
Remember: "Falsehood can rule only where Truth has stopped struggling to be heard."
SERMON “To Know Why the Caged Bird Sings” Rev. Greg
A warning before I begin: This sermon talks about violence – primarily against women. And it talks about pain, mostly felt by women and rarely (actually, never) fully understood by men. It may be uncomfortable to hear. It was certainly uncomfortable to learn… and write, as a man, because I had to put down a considerable amount of privilege to get close enough to it to see what I’d been missing. And what I’d been missing is enormous. And frightening. The distance measured between what I knew and what I thought I knew is directly proportional to the size of patriarchy in our culture.
And a disclaimer: this sermon is an open address to men. This is not intended to be a dressing down of men. But, instead, a lifting up of women’s pain for men to see. So as to make it harder to un-see.
I will be using primary texts by women. I want whatever truth this sermon may contain to be measured against – and accountable to – women’s experience. And the freedoms it helps bring for them. But I am speaking to men, in hopes that I can help paint a picture of the freedom we haven’t even realized we are missing.
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I start with the well known opening words of Maya Angelou’s 1969 classic, “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.”
What are you looking at me for?
I didn’t come here to stay.
I just came here to say
Happy Easter Day.
Maya – born Marguerite – was supposed to recite her lines at the Easter morning church service. Whether it was nerves or being distracted by having to go to the bathroom, she forgot them. She ran out of the church. Tripped on the way out by a leg outstretched from one of the other children. She stumbled, stood, ran out of the church to the sound of laughter.
These are the words that end the opening prologue:
“If growing up is painful for a southern black girl, being aware of her displacement is the rust on the razor that threatens the throat. It is an unnecessary insult.”
“…being aware of her displacement…”
Later in the book she describes how, when she was 8 years old, she was raped by her mother’s boyfriend, Freeman. She told her older brother, Bailey. Who told the family. Freeman was found guilty but jailed for only a day. Four days after he was released, he was murdered.
Maya knew it was her uncles. In her 8 year old mind, he was murdered because she told. Her voice killed him. So she vowed never to use her voice again. And for five years she was silent.
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There is a haunting and powerful silence that can come when trauma enters your soul. Trauma is not a fleeting image. It is a nightmare carrying baggage. And as it enters a soul, it unpacks with plans to stay. It hangs pictures on the wall which, once seen, become difficult to un-see. And one of the things it unpacks is a shadow. No one who hasn’t had trauma come to visit can fully know that shadow: and the unsettling aloneness it brings… which can take your voice. And your power. Until you find what will set you free.
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Zainab Salbi helped women in war torn countries find their voice and speak their truth. In the early 90s during the Bosnian and Croatian conflict Zainab read about horrible crimes of war. Especially against women. And this she could not bear.
Zainab knew war. She grew up in Iraq. Her father, Tariq, was Sadaam Hussein’s personal pilot. She knew terror. She’d seen it up close in ways that would not let her forget.
She vowed to go to Bosnia to make a difference. There were only two problems. The first was she didn’t know where Bosnia was. Or what language they spoke. Or how they lived. But she knew pain. And she knew the power of women working together.
The second problem was that she was getting married and planning to honeymoon in Spain.
Zainab Salbi and her husband did not go to Spain. They went to Sarajevo. And they spent their honeymoon knocking on doors with a very simple plan. She founded Women for Women International on the idea of connecting women in areas devastated by war with women all around the world. She created connection using an exchange of letters and sponsorship.
“I grew up in war,” she said. “And I know one thing I know about war is that it makes you feel isolated and alone… like the world has forgotten about you.”
Zainab described hearing hundreds and hundreds of stories from women. Stories they had never told another soul. Stories that had been locked up inside them for countless reasons – but all having to do with non-negotiables like safety, honor and protection.
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As soon as terror moves in to a soul, the first guest it invites is shame. It is shame that starts moving furniture and putting things in front of the doors.
Social researcher, Brene Brown, lists three things that shame brings that it needs to thrive
1. Silence
2. Secrecy
3. Judgment
Given just a little of these, shame will grow exponentially and will spread into every corner of your soul. It begins to influence your thoughts and choices about what you do, who you talk to…
But if you add just a little empathy – if you move shame into a little light – it shrinks quickly.
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Zainab carried those stories out of secrecy and raised them up so that others who also knew the shadow of trauma began to realize how many others knew of their experience. Along with empathy, came a message of resistance. Reminding them they weren’t alone.
Zainab says, it was humbling work. Soul work. It did not come for every woman. And when it came, it did not come without arousing terror.
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“I am here today not because I want to be. I am terrified. I am here because I believe it is my civic duty to tell you what happened. I… appreciate the importance of your hearing… what happened to me and the impact it has had on my life and on my family.”
These are the words of Dr. Christine Blasey Ford when she testified at Brett Kavanaugh’s Supreme Court Confirmation hearing. It’s important to re-read her testimony to understand how much it cost her. How she had nothing to gain.
I listened on live-stream along with nearly a dozen colleagues – mostly female-identifying – in between meetings at denominational headquarters. This is what I observed and learned:
And, in the midst of this was Dr. Ford who came forward at the hearing because she was having trouble moving forward in her life because of the laughter (at her expense) “indelibly ingrained into her hippocampus.”
This from Zainab Salib:
“When someone breaks their silence, that person becomes like a candle who gives light to everyone still in the dark. They let people know that they are not alone. So often, we are the prison guard for our own fear. But when we learn to own our story and tell it, we see the doorway that leads out of the shame. And as we go, we liberate others in the process.”
The problem was, however, even though the candle revealed the doorway out, numerous people stepped up in the guise of Donald Trump, Orrin Hatch, Mitch McConnell, Lindsey Graham and others to block the exit with anger, blame, ridicule and judgment. Like they were saying she went to all this pain and trouble to put the gum in her own hair.
#believeher
And one of the worst things pointed out to me yesterday was that this was not a trial – as it was so carefully orchestrated to appear. They kept posing the false premise that Kavanaugh was innocent until proven guilty. That is an incredibly high burden of proof reserved only for criminal trials. This was a job interview. If you were hiring a babysitter and 1 – much less 3 – people came forth with polygraph testimony questioning moral character – they wouldn’t get the job.
Their interest was in flooding the media with the duplicitous message that Kavanaugh was ‘proven’ innocent. But since what happened as the furthest thing from a trial, the only actually thing ‘proven’ was that those in power can dismiss legitimate concern, avoid accountability, flip the bird to millions of women, advance their pre-determined conclusion and call it due process.
What we just witnessed was an exercise of raw power coming from the most elite branches of patriarchy, flexing its muscle, defending the inequity of privilege and ensuring a very long, dark shadow is cast on the future. What women all over the country just witnessed is a door slightly ajar being slammed shut and dead-bolted in place.
If you are a male – a white male at that – and you want to know why women in your life have been on edge, frustrated, angry, hurt, despondent – especially when they look at you and notice that you’re NOT feeling any of those things… it’s important to remember this:
The way out of this cage – of terror, shame, silence, secrecy, judgment, powerlessness comes in two forms:
1. avoiding micro-aggressions
2. and practicing micro-liberations
Recognize that a shadow is cast over women all over this country. And if you have any light (and you do… because you’re men… and men sort of set the stock price of light in the land of patriarchy) and you’d like to help reduce shame and judgment, then know that empathy – and humility – goes a long way.
Women need to be heard right now. The #Metoo movement is not an attack on men as much as it is having their painful reality validated. They’d really like it if that reassurance came from more than just women.
So, let’s go through a couple things that might help you see some of the power and influence you have to be helpful in this critical time.
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Writer, Kate Quindlen was riding one of Chicago’s L trains late one night when a 350-pound drunk man cornered her and began growling in her face and making gross, sexual gestures with his mouth. She repeatedly and loudly yelled at him to leave her alone.
“There were dozens of other people on the train,” she said. “NO ONE said a word. Eventually, I managed to squeeze through a space under one of his arms and walk to the other end of the train, promptly got off at the next stop. I hated the fact that – even in a sea of people – I still felt totally alone.”
She later told that story to a bunch of friends. All the women nodded with a depressing sense of empathy, no questions needed. But the men listened with honest bewilderment. Another layer of pain which summoned more loneliness. But instead of getting more angry, she tried to be helpful. She came up with 22 things that take up considerable room in women’s consciousness that men easily ignore. For the sake of time, I just offer ten.
10. Walking alone at night, women have to look behind every car for a possible attacker, have pepper spray or a sharp key ready. They can’t wear headphones so as to hear someone coming.
9. Women have to be on the phone when getting in a taxi, on the subway or train, walking home – because being alone is not safe.
8. Women can never leave their drink unattended at a party.
7. Women spend 30+ years of their life keeping two calendars: one for them and one for their period – because it changes what they wear, what they do, how they feel and the amount of judgment they can expect.
6. What women wear to work or how they use makeup becomes a judgment buffet (especially if they are a minister).
5. Women are the gender most responsible to remember birth control but not responsible enough to decide their own reproductive rights.
4. Women are the gender that primarily wrestles with the dilemma of childbearing coinciding with career-building
3. They’re often told their effort and conscientiousness at work seems bossy, overaggressive or emasculating.
2. Every time they go to the store, they have to worry about whether what they’re wearing reveals too much.
1. Every word out of Donald Trump’s mouth and his general existence.
This is not just happenstance… Just ‘the way things are...’ This is patriarchy.
But maybe it’s best summed up in this one quote from Margaret Atwood. “Most men fear getting laughed at or humiliated by a romantic prospect, while most women fear rape and death.”
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Men, one of the most important things to understand in all of this just comes in the word ‘privilege.’ It is a privilege not to think, not to worry, not to prepare and not to suffer the consequences of negotiating these dilemmas. We also don’t have to act – because not acting will not cost us any of the benefits and advantages we’ve enjoyed. Except…
Each occurrence of failing to act, or failing to notice the impact on women, breaks trust with any woman who recognizes that at least part of her liberation from terror - and her hope of reaching her potential - is tied to more men waking up from the collective nightmare of patriarchy.
To know why the caged bird sings means sometimes being quiet. Listening long enough to understand the jagged grain of silence… and the secrecy behind it. Understand the judgments protruding, keeping everything in place. Understand that each bar in the cage is made from a different privilege they’ve been denied. Our failure to see how our privilege keeps things in place is, perhaps, a woman’s greatest pain. Because it makes her more aware of her displacement (like) the rust on the razor that threatens the throat. It is an unnecessary insult.”
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Maya Angelou lived in silence. Her mother didn’t know why and sent her to her grandmother’s. But her grandmother knew. “Girl,” she said, “there are some who might call you dumb, or an idiot or a moron, but momma knows… When you and the Good Lord get ready you gonna be a teacher… Sister you gonna teach all over this world…”
Maya later remembered thinking, “This poor ignorant woman! Doesn’t she know I’m never gonna speak!?!’
And yet, Maya did become a teacher – once she realized it wasn’t her voice that could kill. But her silence.
Later in Angelou’s life there’s a story of a party. Off in one corner, someone was telling a joke – a racist, homophobic joke. And from across the room Angelou heard it. She stopped what she was doing, walked over, interrupted the conversation and asked the person, “Is this your coat? Did you come with anyone? Both of you, come this way! It is time for you to excuse yourself and leave my house.” Then she turned to everyone and said, “I will not allow it in my house.”
Later, she described it this way,
“Any pejorative, slight, or slur spoken to make another person less than human is poison. Just like the kind you get from a pharmacy. P-O-I-S-O-N. Skull and bones. You can’t take it and pour it in Bavarian crystal and make it otherwise. And you don’t want it anywhere near you – it clings to the walls. Gets into the upholstery, into your clothes and sooner or later, in to you.”
You may think accepting it comes with an advantage, but you’re wrong. We need to summon the courage to rid that from our environment…. If someone starts a joke that we know is heading down a derogatory path… and people laugh nervously because they don’t know how to stop it. What do we do? We can’t stop arrogance and prejudice all at once. We interrupt one joke at a time. Put our selves between a woman and a lewd gesture one moment at a time. One moment of listening. One moment of believing. One moment of centering women’s reality at a time. And it all starts with courage. The greatest of virtues because every other virtue depends on it. We can be anything erratically, now and then. Kind, fair, generous, loyal. But to be these consistently… dependably… in a way that changes lives, cultures, systems, patriarchy... That takes courage.
Without courage we are all in the shadow of patriarchy. We may think we benefit, but blindly benefiting from others pain is NOT a solution. It IS the problem. And it obfuscates the choice we do have. The solution we can offer. The hope that waits for us to make it real.
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What are you looking at me for?
I didn’t come here to stay.
I just came here to say
Happy Easter Day.
Friends, if you are just recognizing the shadow of pain and can see how recent events can feel like a pronouncement that hope is dead for women seeking equality… and you don’t know what to do… take heart. You do not need to know where Bosnia is. Or everything about the language and culture. You just have to know pain.
Get mad. And get curious. There will come an Easter, someday, where we will remember our lines. Where we rid our world of the shadow of shame. Where our words connect us to a larger promise of liberation and we hear the call to a new reality. A new world. Where we finally see.
To the Glory of Life
GOING DEEPER
Slide 1:
Some tips for men for what to do
Slide 2
Some tips for men for what to do (continued)