Sacraments
A week or so back, we had a discussion in the Temple about using the phrase, "May the Force be with you." Some of us love using the phrase, because we love the movies. Some of us don't use the phrase, and for some of this group the objection is that the Force *is* with you, and it certainly doesn't need me telling it what to do. Some of us use some variation of the phrase that fits better with our beliefs about the Force or our sincere wishes for the person with whom we are speaking.
But that got me thinking. In the movies, you know who uses the phrase, "May the Force be with you"? People who aren't Jedi. The rebel general at the end of the briefing on how to attack the Death Star: "Then man your ships, and may the Force be with you." Not a Jedi. Han, to Luke, when the latter is pissed at him for leaving before the showdown with the Empire: "Hey, Luke -- May the Force be with you." Not a Jedi. Admiral Ackbar, before the Battle of Endor, says, "May the Force be with us." Yep, not a Jedi (though very skilled at sensing when it's a trap). Leia says it to Rey, right before the latter leaves in the Falcon in the most recent movie, and in this new version of the galaxy Leia isn't a Jedi.
Believe me, I am not trying to reopen the debate here. My attitude is, if you like the phrase and it has significance for you, by all means use it. But I bring this up to see if we can take a deeper look at the meaning behind these words.
The reason this became a tagline in 1977 was because of that one moment in the film. When Han says to Luke, "May the Force be with you," it was a moment of immense emotional power to the audience. Remember, this is the guy who was ridiculing Ben and Luke just an hour earlier for their "hokey religions and ancient weapons." This is the guy that Luke was just chewing out because Han doesn't seem to care about anyone but himself. So when that line comes out of Han's mouth, it has a huge impact. It sums up the respect and affection he's developed for the farmboy who didn't want to ride with him to Alderaan in the first place, and who is probably about to be turned into dust in a suicidal attack on a giant battle station and way too many TIE fighters. It says, in a way that Han never could say in actual words, how he really feels about his friend at that pivotal moment in the heroic journey.
Six words that speak volumes. No wonder we spent the next forty years saying this phrase to each other and plastering it on T-shirts.
Put a bookmark there for a minute. We'll get back to it.
I didn't intend to talk about MTFBWY today. When I started thinking about the message I wanted to convey, I was meditating on the idea of sacraments. And I thought I knew, or at least had a clear sort of idea, what that word meant. I mean, it sounds like it has to do with something sacred, right?
So imagine my surprise when, having planned a sermon around what I thought a sacrament was, I discovered that I had it all wrong. The word sacrament actually has a very specific meaning, and it's really supposed to be limited to one specific Church. In Catholicism, a sacrament is a component of the holiest of rituals and ceremonies. The Host and the wine used to give communion. The holy water with which a baby is baptized. The items the neighborhood priest has to make sure are in his bag when he sets out to administer the last rites. These are sacraments. Tangible things. Bits of the most sacred ceremonies that an adherent would ever be part of.
Huh. Well, that's not going to work, then.
I did find that the dictionary has another definition of sacrament: "A visible sign of an inward grace." I have the sense, though, that this phrase might make more sense if I studied the catechism, but it doesn't seem so applicable to what I'm trying to say.
Of course, culture has denigrated the word somewhat through over-analogizing and common usage. I read where a devoted Red Sox fan might consider it a sacrament to catch a game at Fenway Park. But maybe that sort of gets me back to where I was trying to get in the first place. Because see, what I wanted to talk about was finding the holy everywhere. Looking for the sacred in the mundane. Making even the most routine things we do into something meaningful.
Here at the Temple, we have our ceremonies and our services, and these are wonderful experiences in the Force. This is as it should be -- we should take time out for special occasions, to really immerse ourselves in our faith and our community. Most of us also have our daily rituals that put us in touch with the Force: maybe we meditate, or pray, or give our chakras a spin, or pump out some sun salutations. Again, this is as it should be.
But being a Jedi is not something I want to do for an hour a day. I aspire to be the 24/7/365 kind of Jedi. And because the Force is everywhere, permeates everything, lives in every person we encounter -- whether they believe in the Force or not -- my question is how can I make it easier for me to see the Force in everything I do and everything I see and everyone I meet?
There's this fantastic word in the Hindu language that I love: "Namaste." It's a respectful form of greeting, the functional equivalent of our "Hello." But the word itself means, "That which is divine in me acknowledges and honors that which is divine in you."
A single word that speaks volumes.
Whenever I see our yoga teacher Krystle, whether in class or at her workplace or wherever, she always smiles, puts her palms together, and says, "Namaste" to me. And I am invariably overwhelmed with the meaning of what she is telling me in that single word. It's a sacred thing. I know that's how she means it, and I know that's how I receive it. And boom, I am conscious of the Force.
Now, whenever I see my reiki teacher Meghan, she doesn't say namaste; instead she smiles and gives me a warm hug. And I am invariably overwhelmed with the meaning of what she is telling me without using a single word. It's a sacred thing. I know that's how she means it, and I know that's how I receive it. And boom, I am conscious of the Force.
And I think, why can't every greeting be like that? Why shouldn't we make every greeting a sacred thing?
That which is divine in me can acknowledge and honor that which is divine in every person I encounter. It doesn't matter whether it's someone I've known for years, or someone I'm meeting for the first time. It doesn't matter whether I say "Namaste," or "Hello," or "S'up." It makes no difference if I use no words at all. If I'm going by someone I know in oncoming traffic, and all I have time for is a smile and a wave, that can still be a sacred thing. It's all about my intention.
Making the most routine things into a sacrament. This idea that every greeting should be a thing of significance in the Force is just one example. But it's a start.
So with that, namaste.
And may the Force be with you.
