Reading
Walden, Henry David Thoreau
Chapter 2: "Where I Lived, and What I Lived For"

We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn, which does not forsake us in our soundest sleep. I know of no more encouraging fact than the unquestionable ability of man to elevate his life by a conscious endeavor. It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue, and so to make objects beautiful; but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look, which morally we can do. To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of arts. Every man is tasked to make his life, even in its details, worthy of contemplation of his most elevated and critical hour. If we refused, or rather used up such paltry information as we get, the oracles would distinctly inform us how this might be done.

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck all the marrow out of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it.

 

This morning's reading by Henry David Thoreau is an excerpt from his classic book Walden. Thoreau is perhaps most famous for the two years (1845-47) that he lived in a small cabin he built for himself near Walden Pond in Concord, MA. The book is filled with his thoughts and experiences and is written with a simple eloquence that continues to speak to us today over 150 years later. This fall here at church, Dana Mather has led an adult enrichment course focusing on Walden as a source for personal reflection and group discussion.

Thoreau was greatly influenced by Ralph Waldo Emerson. His decision to live by simple means in connection with the natural world was inspired by the philosophy of the Transcendentalists. It was also made possible through the generosity of Emerson himself. Although Walden conjures up romantic images of a remote solitary existence, Thoreau's modest cabin was in the back lot of the Emerson's estate. He would often join them for meals and earned his keep by doing yard work and other menial tasks. Of all the Transcendentalist thinkers of the time, Thoreau is considered the ultimate poet-naturalist. Where many in that circle drew their inspiration from books and conversation, Henry David led a contemplative life, studying the phenomena of nature, communing with her spirit, and noting his observations in voluminous diaries.

Not many of us make the choices that Henry David Thoreau made through out his life in casting aside convention and common expectations. He resigned from his post as schoolmaster when the Concord school board insisted he follow the proscribed textbook and he refused to use corporal punishment to discipline the students. He was jailed for refusing to pay taxes. Many critics point out that it was easier for him to simplify as he had no wife or family to support.

Let us return to the passage that Fred read for us this morning from the second chapter of Walden: "Where I Lived, and What I Lived For". Thoreau writes: "We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn, which does not forsake us in our soundest sleep." How often do you struggle to stay awake and turn to mechanical aids? Thoreau gave up stimulants like alcohol, tea and coffee. He seems like a prophet when you consider the large number of mechanical aids that have been invented since: radio, television, stereos, walkmans, VCRs, DVDs, computer games. Thoreau was critical of the postal service, which he felt delivered little information of value. I can just imagine how he would feel about the telephone, the Internet or cellular phones! I am not suggesting that we give up all modern conveniences. (I for one do not plan to give up coffee any time soon!) However, it is important to consider when we are using them in the place of a deeper longing to be fully alive. So many times I hear people talking on cell phones, (I cannot help but overhear, they talk so loudly) and the conversation is often "Okay, I am here now and soon I'll be there." I shudder when I see people on cell phones walking down the street with only a vague connection to their surroundings or driving a car as they talk to someone far away.

Of course when Thoreau writes of being reawakened, he is not just talking about sleep deprivation (which studies show that many Americans suffer from today), he is talking about greater consciousness. Our ultimate artistic accomplishment is our life itself. What we happen to create in our lives is just a by-product of our larger endeavor to perfect ourselves. By living as he did by the shores of Walden Pond, Thoreau tested the hypothesis that we would be happier if we simplified our wants and lived more in tune with nature. His words again: "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I come to die, discover that I had not lived."

There are many stories of people who are reawakened to their lives once they have been diagnosed with a serious illness or have another tragedy shake them from their slumber. I want to know that I have lived well. That my days spent on this earth have been significant to myself and to others. However, there are times when tasks seem to be ruling me instead of my deliberately choosing how to live each moment. Thoreau writes, "If man does not keep pace with his companions perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer". Few of us take the time to know what drummer we are marching to and truly consider the way in which we spend our lives. Transcendentalist Margaret Fuller asserted that genius would be no rare commodity if men and women were to trust their higher selves. All the answers to our challenges and fears lie within us, if we dare to pose the questions and are receptive to the truth.

One of the critiques of Thoreau, Emerson, Fuller, and the Transcendentalists is that to be able to live a contemplative life as they did, largely engaged in reading, writing, and philosophical conversation is a privilege that few common folks can afford. It is true that Theodore Parker, Henry Hedge, Bronson Alcott, George Ripley, Elizabeth Peabody and their compatriots were exceptional people. They were all highly educated and comfortable. However, the result of their study and discussion led to a progressive view of religion and God that disturbed the established order and was accessible to all people.

Unitarian minister and Harvard professor Andrews Norton, who was referred to as "the pope" of Boston Unitarianism of the time, asserted that the miracles documented in the Bible were the chief evidence for the truth of Christianity. So, you can imagine the brouhaha that followed when Transcendentalist George Ripley called into question biblical passages that were contrary to the teachings of nature. For Ripley, even more persuasive than miracles was the evidence of intuitive faith. By shifting the focus of religion from external authority to the inner wisdom of each person, the divinity of the human spirit becomes paramount. This means that revelation is not sealed in the Bible, the possession of the elect or an event that only occurs in church. Our deep knowing need not be mediated by a higher authority; the sacred can be discovered in our own daily experience.

What is meant by "the sacred"? For the Transcendentalists, God, Nature, and Humanity, are all part of a greater unity. Emerson described this mystical unity as the Over-soul. He asserted that each person is essentially a spiritual being and part and parcel of God. The world is a mirror of the soul. The beauty and power of Nature is a reflection of our own goodness and capability. So, the modern technology that separates us from the rhythms of Nature can also divorce us from our own true nature. Whether or not you believe in Emerson's mystical ideas, all of us have at one time or another had an experience of oneness, unity with the natural world. Perhaps it was looking up at the night-sky filled with stars, walking along the beach with the crashing surf, sinking our hands into the rich earth or watching a bird in flight. Such an experience reminds us of the miracle of living. We are reawakened "by an infinite expectation of the dawn, which does not forsake us in our soundest sleep."

As many of you know, I went on a Spiritual Retreat recently with other Unitarian Universalist ministers from the Ballou Channing District. We gathered for three days at Our Lady of Peace Retreat Center at Point Judith. I am very grateful to have had that experience. What a rare treat to step away from my regular activities and spend time with colleagues who are engaged in similar work. As we checked in that first day, most of us were tired. Worn out from our flurry of activity and as we grapple with being religious leaders during a time of war. However, we were even more fortunate to have Carl Scovel as our facilitator. Rev. Scovel is the Minister Emeritus of King's Chapel in Boston from which he has recently retired. He spoke to us about the "Spiritual Life of Ministry" how it is possible for ministers to neglect their own personal growth. He did not say anything that I did not know already, but the way in which he shared with us his own mistakes and rewarding practices, have inspired me to create healthier habits in my life. I am talking about the basics: eating well, getting enough sleep, spending time with family and friends, and exercising regularly. This requires a deliberate effort on my part but I find that my energy and outlook are improved. Instead of my mind dragging my body around, I am taking care of my body and subsequently, my thinking is clearer.

I recognize that holidays are often a busy time with travel, visitors, and food preparation. However, I would like to offer you a gift that Carl Scovel offered to us ministers at the retreat. He gave us two hours of silence. Two hours without a radio, stereo, telephone, computer, television, or conversation. We were free to do whatever we wished with that time: walk outdoors, simply sit and look out the window, read, or write in a journal. The amazing thing was that time of constructive rest was the most memorable and refreshing part of the retreat for many of us. Better than a nap! The irony was that it is a gift we could offer ourselves anytime. So, now I pass this gift on to you: two hours of silence to do with what you please. If you need an external authority, you can tell people that your minister told you to do it!

Thanksgiving is a holiday in which we take the time to recognize the blessings that surround and sustain us. This means partaking of delicious food and celebrating with friends and family. In the spirit of our Transcendentalist heritage, take some time to consider how you are spending your life and reawaken to the miracle of living.