Sifting Through Disappointment (DG)

Today is Ash Wednesday. And, I am not anticipating many of us coming to the church today to receive ashes in the ancient Christian tradition, but we are open. If you do come you might leave disappointed, because we stopped doing that rite 5 or so hundred years ago.

Ash Wednesday marks the start of the Lenten season, a 40 day time period of sacrifice, abstinence and contemplation in preparation for Easter --another holiday many of us look forward to with great excitement. At Easter we will celebrate renewal, the return of spring, and maybe even the resurrection of… hope or a savior.

You should know I have mixed feelings about Easter. For now, suffice it to say, through my ambivalence I recognize in the holiday a chance to connect with history and traditions, (Perhaps even great music. Easter is made for Bach after all).

Easter is down a long road of embodied memories that might not be my own personal memories, but pieces of collective consciousness. All of these things are part and parcel of the religious experience, and by extension—the human experience. I recognize in the austerities of Lent too, a certain opportunity to connect with a history that is absolutely not my own. I am, after all, a dyed in the wool 21^st century, Unitarian Universalist. But the memories of Lent might include me all the same. The memories are irresistible and they might even suck you into them too!

Embodied memories? Collective memories? At first, it all sounds strange and impossible; like a post-modernist excursus gone over one bridge too far. Is there anything that we can collectively remember? And, how might we recall it, if we needed to? Especially, if we needed it to save our own lives? This is something that transcends heritage. It’s not American or French memory, Victorian or 22^nd century memory, but human memory. It’s transcendent in that way.

I think that transcendent human memory might be disappointment, a collective human remembrance of unmet expectations. We have all been disappointed about something:

Disappointed about ourselves or our abilities.

Our lack of ability.

By our failures and sometimes even disappointed about our successful accomplishments. (L'Embarras des richesses)  Perhaps we did it “too” well, or too fast, or too slow, or not at all.

Disappointed by loved ones who weren’t there, who are here. Or the children whose personal ambitions contradicted our own, more robust ambitions for them.

Perhaps we are disappointed that human lives are short and filled with uncertainties and dreams and reversals of fortune.

And, we might be disappointed that in the end a hero will not come to save us from ourselves? Mission “not” accomplished.

Whatever, the specific disappointment, we all share in the experience of disappointment and its memory.

Our culture provides us with many anodynes to distract us from the pains of disappointment and a host of fancy drugs to avoid the memory. However, if we want to overcome our disappointment, we must pass with full consciousness through them.

I recommend in the days and weeks leading up the celebration of Easter we consider passing through our own Lenten period to contemplate the memory of life’s shortcomings, reflecting and sifting through the disappointments that are our human heritage. We may draw on tradition, ritual and memories—our own or the memories of others. (The Christian mythos might be useful) As we do this, let us look real hard for lessons and other buried treasure; new opportunities hidden in the old ones. We will have to make sacrifices, perhaps the first of which will need to be our pride, and the second our guilt and third –shame. Let’s also look for forgiveness, our theme for the month, it might be the hardest thing to find, but it is worth the search. If we can find forgiveness in the muck of disappointments use it on yourself first and then on others.

We can always talk about the experience, our triumphs and our set-backs. See you in church. Daniel.