The Longing of the Spirit

"Take then the ardor of love and the longing of the spirit; no one can offer other than this."

--Farid ud-Din Attar

As in other religious traditions, the fast is a time of soul-searching and expiation, or of making amends, for our sins or misdeeds, or simply for our failure to be the people we believe we should be. Fasting is a universal religious practice, one which is thought to lead to heightened awareness or heightened consciousness. In nearly every instance, fasting is a way of getting back in touch with what is most important in our lives and in our relationship to God.

With so much negative information about Islam in the news these days, it is good to remember that Islam is a complex religious tradition whose followers are mostly good people like you and me, trying to live the best lives of which they are capable. They are our neighbors and in some instances our friends. Islamic fundamentalism and extremism no more fully represent Islam than Christian fundamentalism and extremism represent Christianity.

Some of you may be surprised to learn that fasting was once a common practice in our own faith tradition. Our religious ancestors the Puritans used to observe both regular and occasional fast days. In the early days of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, which stretched along the north shore from Boston into what is now southern Maine, and included the area of present-day Newburyport, the "fast day" was an opportunity for ministers to preach what was known as a "fast day sermon."

The usual theme of the fast day sermon was to point out to people where they had fallen short of their religious obligations and to call them back to the straight and narrow path of behavior and observance. Sometimes it would be a response to some natural occurrence or disaster, such as an earthquake or flood, or a manmade disaster such as a war, which the Puritans believed to have been sent by God as a punishment for their transgressions. Since the Puritans were only human, like ourselves, you can imagine that there were frequent opportunities for fasting and for fast day sermons among the early settlers to these shores. But note that the emphasis was on discovering what they had done wrong, on why God might be displeased with them, and on changing their ways. It was not about placing blame, but about accepting responsibility.

I would like to suggest that we consider revisiting the practice of fasting. Certainly, there are more than enough places where you and I have missed the mark, which is the literal meaning of "sin." It certainly wouldn’t do most of us any harm to refrain from eating for a day, and it might be a good way to remind ourselves of things of which we need constant reminding. Our hunger might remind us of our hunger to be better people, to be kinder and more compassionate to those less fortunate than ourselves, and to be aware of our great good fortune in living in a place where most of our bodily needs are met on a daily basis. Our hunger might cause us to consider whether there might be things that we need to change about ourselves, and more broadly, about the society in which we live.

I am thinking this morning especially of our young people and of the kind of example we might want to set for them.

Lately I have become increasingly concerned by the level of mean-spiritedness and incivility which characterizes our country and many of our communities, and, yes, many of us, at this critical time in our history. It shows up in our media and in our public discourse. It shows up in our religious institutions and in the halls of government. It shows up in poor sportsmanship. It shows up in politics especially. It shows up in the epidemic of violence. It shows up in the way we demonize the other. Politeness has become outmoded. Giving the other the benefit of the doubt is passe. Listening respectfully and assuming the best of our opponents is no longer practiced or even valued. Lying has become acceptable, and being caught in a lie only a joke.

Is this what we want our children to believe? Is this the kind of country in which we want to raise our children?

One of the most negative effects of the terrorist attack of September 11, 2001 is that it seems to have given a license to some for hate and intolerance. I find this to be a very frightening development. We see it in an attitude of belligerence on the airwaves and on the streets. We see it in the morally questionable doctrine of "pre-emption" by which our government vows to strike first at any potential threats to our national security, regardless of international opinion or even the opinions of our own people.

In this most divisive of political seasons, we see it in the political campaigns and in the endless rounds of post-debate "spin." Every self-appointed "expert" on every imaginable subject feels it is his or her right to hold forth and to hold those of us who are seeking the truth captive to their often abusive invective. What people actually said is no longer important, only what others say about it. Are we losing the ability to think for ourselves?

I believe that the very foundations of our democracy are being threatened by this atmosphere of fear, hatred, intolerance, and distrust. In fact, legislation such as the Patriot Act has already begun to erode the freedoms that we have always taken for granted in this country. Our fear and distrust of the other, and even of ourselves, is leading us to give up some of our most cherished liberties and to undermine the basis of our civil society.

We cannot live by fear. We cannot raise our children by fear. Fear is undermining our relations abroad and our relations with our neighbors, the folks right next door. Fear is diverting our attention from our duty to the common good and to caring for the least of those among us, which I had always thought was our religious and civic duty. Since when are we instructed only to live for ourselves?

We can only be saved by love and hope. In Farid ud-Din Attar’s Islamic Sufi fable The Conference of the Birds, there is this exchange between two of the birds:

Another bird said to the Hoopoe: ‘Tell us, O you who wish to lead us to the unknown Majesty, what is most appreciated at that court? It is necessary when going to kings to bear precious gifts; only vile men approach them with empty hands.’

The Hoopoe replied: ‘If you follow my advice you will take to the country of the Simurgh what is not found there. Is it fitting that one should take what is there already? True knowledge is found there, secrets are found there, obedience to higher beings is found there. Take then the ardour of love and the longing of the spirit; no one can offer other than this. If a single sigh of love goes to that place it will carry the perfume of the heart. That place is consecrated to the essence of the soul. If a man should heave one sigh of true contrition he will forthwith be in possession of salvation.

This is not the message that I wish to send to our children. I wish to show them that there is another way, a way which is described in all of the world’s great religious systems. It is the golden rule of not doing unto others what you would not have them do unto you. It is the refusal to live by our fears. It is the call to serve those less fortunate than ourselves. It is the avoidance of violence. It is the opportunity to be good and to do good and to love one another and to love God. It is not to return evil for evil, but to replace evil with the good. It is the higher call. Call it naive, but have hatred and violence ever accomplished anything enduring?

That higher calling is what my spirit longs for, and has always longed for. But I frequently need to be recalled to that longing and reminded of what I must do to help build the better world of my dreams. If fasting might help to remind me, I’m willing to give it a try.

It is my hope, for each and every one of us, to build a world of peace and justice, of compassion and love, in which all our children might grow and thrive, and where all our fondest hopes might be realized. May it come to pass, because we have helped to make it so. Amen.

The Rev. Harold E. Babcock