Unitarian Universalist Church of Annapolis

Sunday Service @ 10:00AM

August 17, 2003

Margie Allen, Summer Minister

 

THE SHADOW KNOWS

 

CHALICE LIGHTING
Our chalice-lighting words this morning are from Ursula Le Guin's 1968 novel A Wizard of Earthsea:

Ged lifted up the staff high, and the radiance of it brightened intolerably, burning with so white and great a light that it compelled and harrowed even that ancient darkness. In that light all form of man sloughed off the thing that came towards Ged…. As they came together it became utterly black in the white mage-radiance that burned about it, and it heaved itself upright. In silence, man and shadow met face to face, and stopped.
Aloud and clearly, breaking that old silence, Ged spoke the shadow's name and in the same moment the shadow spoke without lips or tongue, saying the same word: "Ged." And the two voices were one voice.
Ged reached out his hands, dropping his staff, and took hold of his shadow, of the black self that reached out to him. Light and darkness met, and joined, and were one.

 

OPENING WORDS

[from Debbie Ford, The Dark Side of the Light Chasers: Reclaiming Your Power, Creativity, Brilliance, and Dreams (New York, NY: Riverhead Books, 1998), p.44)]

 

There is an old Sufi story about a philosopher who made an appointment to debate with Nasrudin, a Sufi wisdom teacher. When the philosopher arrived for his appointment he found Nasrudin away from his home. Infuriated, the philosopher picked up a piece of chalk and wrote “Stupid Oaf” on Nasrudin’s gate. When Nasrudin got home and saw this he rushed right over to the philosopher’s house. “I had forgotten,” he said, “that you were to call. And I am sorry I missed our appointment. But, I remembered our appointment the minute I saw that you had written your name on my gate.

 

[DANCE, recognition: seated with shadow à standing upstage]

 

Homily I:         RECOGNITION

The Shadow is a symbol, invented by the great psychologist and theorist Carl Jung, which stands for all that is within us which is not a conscious part of who we are in the everyday world. The Shadow is not evil. The Shadow is not the Devil. The Shadow is the unknown, repressed, unlit side of the ego complex. The persona—the mask we present to the world—constitutes our fully lit, bright selves. The Shadow is the other part, aspects of ourselves, qualities and tendencies, that are rejected and relegated to the darkness as the person we choose to be in the world is moved up front into the light, into interaction with others. The two parts—persona and Shadow—together make a whole, like the comma-shaped dark and light Yin and Yang which, nestled one against the other, constitute a complete orb. Robert Bly calls the Shadow “the long bag we drag behind us.” [Robert Bly, A Little Book on the Human Shadow (San Francisco, CA: Harper Collins, 1988), p.17]  Our bags can get very long and burdensome, and we forget, if we ever knew, what exactly they contain.

The wholeness with which we emerge from womb to air at birth is immediately subject to shaping. We are born emotionally healthy whole beings. We accept and celebrate without question all of who we are. We live in the moment, act out our feelings, and explore our expanding world with no sense of restriction. At first. As we grow, who we are begins to be shaped by people’s approval and by our observations about what keeps us safe and loved. Qualities which “work” in the world go into the light, into our persona. Qualities which trouble people and structures in our environment are forced into Shadow. Different families and cultures select for different personality qualities, but everywhere the “civilizing” process tends to split a whole person into halves: acceptable and unacceptable, good and bad, moral and immoral, civil and barbaric, controlled and uncontrolled, nice and not nice, sane and crazy. 

How do you know what is in your Shadow? Well, Nasrudin’s philosopher friend—do you remember him from the Opening Words?—he declared a piece of his Shadow when he called Nasrudin a “Stupid Oaf.” Projection, the ascription to other people of qualities we hold in Shadow and refuse to own as ours, is a primary route Shadow takes into the light. The judgments you make of others are really about you. It’s the old “one finger pointing out and three pointing back at yourself.” “Stupid Oaf” is a quality of the philosopher’s Shadow which, when it pops up into consciousness, he quickly casts off himself and projects onto Nasrudin. Another way to learn what is in your Shadow is to pay attention to the level of emotion you experience in reacting to other people. If someone “hooks” you, gets you angry or anxious or defensive, you can bet that something about that person is reflected in your Shadow.

So what kinds of things are relegated to Shadow? Well, things inclined to disorder. Anger, aspects of our sexuality, selfishness, deviousness, vengeance and hatred might be in there. Maybe sloppiness, gluttony and greed, jealousy, hostility. Maybe gender ambiguity. But there is also treasure in Shadow, the little bit of light in the darkness, like the speck of white Yang in the blackness of Yin. Depending on family dynamics, on the emotional health of the caretaker, on the rigidity of community expectations, a person’s Shadow may contain “gold” like creativity, a childlike joy, trust, wildness, assertiveness, power, competence, even love and desire. Even qualities that appear wholly negative may have positive aspects when viewed in full light. The more negative the persona, the more treasure might be discovered in Shadow. And often the more “perfectly civilized” the outward personality, the blacker and longer the inner shadow bag.

We learn to fear our Shadow and we work hard to maintain the splits as we have been taught because we think it is easier to ignore our Shadow than risk letting it see the light of day! It takes a lot of energy to keep the Shadow “down,” often increasing amounts of energy. The more we fear and repress Shadow energy, the more likely it is to de-evolve, to become more primitive and surly. This constant effort to repress our consciousness of Shadow uses energy which is then not available for living life. People with active Shadows are tired and depressed, and sometimes, worn down and in despair, Shadow will overtake them and violence can then break out towards oneself or others.

            The quest to raise into consciousness the contents of the shadow, to recall and engage a lost wholeness, demands a heroic struggle. Jung said

 

“The shadow is a moral problem that challenges the whole ego-personality, for no one can become conscious of the shadow without considerable moral effort. To become conscious of it involves recognizing the dark aspects of the personality as present and real. This act is the essential condition for any kind of self-knowledge, and it, therefore, as a rule, meets with considerable resistance.”

[C.G. Jung, Collected Works, Vol.9, Part II]

 

The Shadow remembers a time when we were one. The Shadow knows.

 

GUIDED MEDITATION

[Debbie Ford, The Dark Side of the Light Chasers (NY: Riverhead Books, 1998), p. 110]

 

I’d like to invite you to make yourselves comfortable for a short guided meditation. I am going to guide you into an unfolding scene. I will periodically make suggestions about where to go and what to do as you experience the situation I will describe. There will be some pauses to allow you to imagine what happens. Some of you may find your minds wandering, or notice that something entirely different is happening in your mind’s eye. Some of you may take a nap or think about a work project or something else. That’s OK, but if you can, let my words guide you. Now, relax and close your eyes, if that is comfortable for you. At the end of the meditation I will sound a chime.

            You are waiting to board a big Greyhound bus bound who knows where. In a moment you will climb the steps and move down the aisle looking for a seat. Right now you are standing in a line of people. I ask you, now and when you board, to pay very close attention to the people with whom you will be sharing the coach. Now you are stepping up into the bus. What does the driver look like? Make your observations as if you were writing them down. “The driver has a blue uniform on…,” you write. “His hair is a tangled mess.” What else do you notice as you move by him slowly making your way up the aisle….   You are in no hurry to find a seat. You are much more interested in the people. Notice every detail about the people on both sides of the aisle as you look for an empty seat, moving very slowly along….   What are they wearing? What colors, fabrics, styles of clothing? What are they doing—reading, eating, talking?  Can you catch a snatch of conversation? Do you smell, or hear, or see anything that draws your attention, as you pass the first row… and the second…and the third. Are there children? Older folks? What ethnicities? What races? Is there anyone particularly attractive or unattractive to you? Anyone you know? Anyone who frightens or disgusts or disturbs you particularly? If so, what is it  about them? You are passing the fourth row of seats and the fifth and the sixth….   Don’t sit, just walk slowly and look about you….    Walking slowly up the aisle, making detailed observations about your fellow travelers, as if you were an anthropologist or a poet….    Try to memorize every detail you can about the people as you slowly pass….    Who are they? What can you know about their stories? Now you are near the back of the bus, the only person not seated. It is time to choose a seat and you make your way back down the aisle towards someone you noticed sitting with an empty seat. Take a seat and notice every detail you can about your seat companion….   When the chime rings, the bus will lurch to a start and your journey will begin….

 

[DANCE, struggle: standing upstageà despair]

 

Homily II:       STRUGGLE

Forty-two year-old Thomas Junta was sentenced to 6 to 10 years in prison for involuntary manslaughter in the July 2000 death of Michael Costin. Costin had been on the ice coaching a group of 10-year-old hockey players, including his own three sons and Junta’s son. Junta, concerned that Costin was allowing play to become too rough, came out of the stands to set things right. When Costin did not respond to his suggestions, Junta attacked him. The beating which ensued was so violent as to nearly sever Costin’s head from his shoulders. Thomas Junta, hockey dad, was overcome by the power of his own shadowed and projected violent tendencies. He had intended to protect the boys from injury but instead, blindly entering his own shadow-self, he exposed everyone present to a horrible, deadly, and indelible tragedy.

Families, communities and nations can have Shadows too. Ronald Reagan called the former Soviet Union “the evil empire.” George W. Bush characterized a group of nations as an “axis of evil” and called men who purposefully fly airplanes into skyscrapers “cowards.” The same rules apply to these judgments as to judgments about individuals. Three fingers point back at the United States. One thing that 9/11 taught us is that we are not yet able to look into, much less come to know, that darkened face, the story of our own arrogance, our will to control, our history of murder as a nation. Denise Levertov, in a poem written in recognition of the 32nd  anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, gives voice to the shadow which formed (or perhaps simply became more powerful) in our national life in those three days in which 160,000 Japanese people died outright and another 125,000 were injured or disappeared. Levertov, referring to the shadowy hand which swept the nation’s anguish and guilt into a dark denial, ends her powerful poem thus:

 

Three decades now we have lived

with its fingers outstretched in horror clinging to our future, our children’s future,

into history or the void.

The shadow’s voice

cries out to us to cry out.

Its nails dig

                                    into our souls

                                                                        to wake them:

‘Something,’ it ceaselessly

repeats, its silence

a whisper, its whisper

a shriek…—

‘…something can yet

be salvaged upon the earth:

try, try to survive,

try to redeem

the human vision

from cesspits where human hands

have thrown it, as I was thrown

from life into shadow…’ 

 

Levertov captures the desperation with which our shadow, whether personal or national or global, longs for salvage—could we say salvation?—for recollection, for contact, for re-union.  She has a poet’s knowing that it is the Shadow which, in the deep darkness of blind fear, treasures the lamp of human salvation.

Recovery of our personal and collective Shadow is a religious project. In a previous sermon [July 20, 2003] I named what I believe constitutes a commonly-held Unitarian Universalist  theology: each life is but a part of a larger whole we call the web of all existence, the sustainability of which depends on the ability of each human being to function in the world as a whole, spiritually integrated person. We are about fostering the individual quest for wholeness that we may as a “web of all existence” enjoy a whole and healthy future. The links on the web of life consist of relationships. Two entities in relationship conduct the full life force of the web only if each is functioning as an open, balanced whole, if Shadow material has been raised from the darkness and reintegrated. This is the salvation to which Levertov refers. I believe that “sin” is the reluctance of a constituent on the web to attend to the work of “salvaging” the Shadow. Sin is all that we do to ignore the fact that we are alienated from half of who we are and therefore from those to whom we are linked on the web. “Evil” then, in my understanding, is the dynamic which infects the web when the life-giving flow of love and justice to a unit component—a person, a family, an ecosystem, a nation—is blocked. Evil isolates and distorts persons and relationships when they are separated from the whole and isolated. Evil is enabled when fear and denial and projection allow that which we cut off within our selves to act through us, despite us, to damage the web that holds us all. The Shadow is neither sin nor evil. It is a portion of who we are. It is us. This the Shadow knows.

 

 [DANCE, integration: despairà reconciliation]

Homily III:      INTEGRATION

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            I invite you once again to relax into a moment of meditation. So make yourselves comfortable and close your eyes if that feels helpful.

I ask you to find yourself sitting on the bus you boarded earlier. Take a moment to look around you and remember your fellow travelers. The driver is just now pulling off the highway into a service plaza. You disembark the bus and head into the restaurant. You pick up a meal and take a seat at a small table. The dining area is not crowded, so you are surprised to find that one of the people from your bus is sliding into the seat across from you at your table. And you are even more surprised when you see who it is. Of all the people on the bus, why this one? In the next few moments, have a conversation with this person. I will ring a chime to end the meditation.

 

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

[chime]

 

There is something within us which longs to reclaim the wholeness we are at birth. Something in us remembers. What a gift in life that is. Again and again, because of how our minds work, it seems, we are given opportunities to reclaim what we have lost of our original selves. Our cultural assumptions about “good” have as much to do with control and power as they do with wholeness. Carl Jung once said: “I’d rather be whole than good.” Wholeness involves the balancing and blending of all the essential human qualities without splitting. The goal is to know ourselves in our wholeness, to know both our shadow and our light, to express our whole selves—carefully and responsibly—as we go about making ourselves useful in the world.

            All of the people on the bus, in the guided meditation as in dream interpretation, represent aspects of yourself, your sub-personalities. Some of them, the ones which evoked some emotional responses, which “hooked” you, may very well be parts of yourself that you hold in shadow. Maybe the person who was so bold as to join you at table is one. Entering dialogue with your Shadow is much like dealing with any other being with whom you must find a way to get along—sometimes by merely listening with warmth and curiosity, sometimes by giving in, sometimes by resisting, sometimes simply by offering a loving and compassionate presence. Integration is the process of regarding all these traits and qualities without judgment, detaching from identity with either pole of the split, and learning to live in the gray, in ambiguity, in the knowledge that as a whole and free  person you can choose from all life’s options. “When you understand that you contain everything you see in others, your entire world will alter (Debbie Ford).” You will be open to transformative processes. Your ability to be compassionate towards others will expand. And as you become more whole and healthy, whole healthy people will begin to enter your life. Energy once locked up in Shadow dynamics will become available for uses in the service of life and continued growth.

            Confronting and entering into relationship with the Shadow can be a terribly challenging task. I believe it is not one we need tackle alone. The struggle to become aware of the “long bag we drag behind,” to identify and interrogate its contents, and to negotiate a relationship in wholeness with our Shadow selves is one we can engage in religious community. The word religion, I am sure most of you know, derives from the Latin word religare, to “tie back.” It is a religious task to reunite with that which we lost in the dubious process of being “civilized,” to knit back together our original whole self, our original Yin and Yang, to dance the dance of the dark and the light which is Life. The Shadow knows, and cries out to us: “Something can yet be salvaged!” May the darkness and the light meet inside of us, and dance us into life, set us free.

 

Let it be so.       AMEN.

 

CLOSING WORDS
These closing words are from Ten Rungs: Hasidic Sayings, collected and edited by Martin Buber in 1947:

Question: The Talmud says that the child in the womb of his mother looks from one end of the world to the other and knows all the teachings, but that the instant he comes into contact with the air of earth an angel strikes him on the mouth, and he forgets everything. I do not understand why this should be: why first know everything and then forget it?
Answer: A trace is left behind in man through which he can reacquire the knowledge of the world and the teachings, and do God's service.

 

© Margie Allen, Summer Minister


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