Purity of Heart is To Will One Thing

Samain                                                                           Moving Moon

presented for Groveland Unitarian-Universalist Fellowship

12/14/2014

Purity of Heart is To Will One Thing

 

Will Steger sat on the couch in the living room, clicking through slides on a presentation. This was a month ago in Roseville at a gathering of the Woolly Mammoths, many of whom are present this morning. We had eaten supper with Will and listened as he talked casually about almost dying when they couldn’t find a food cache on the way to the South Pole.

A regular guy in a lot of ways, a regular guy made special by what Soren Kierkegaard would have called the purity of heart to will one thing. He had, from a young age, a clear vision. He wanted to live in the wilderness where there was no road. And become self-sufficient. He achieved that goal by buying a piece of property two lakes away from the nearest road outside Ely, Minnesota.

Wildness and wilderness became home. Expeditions to the North Pole, to the South Pole, always with some educational outcome followed from that vision. So did the development of the Steger Foundation which focuses on educating school age kids about global climate change.

Climate change became a focus when he witnessed personally the melting of the arctic ice cap and the disruption it occurs in that fragile eco-system. Now he’s building the Steger Center on that same property two lakes away from the nearest road. There he hopes to engage leaders of the business and non-profit and governmental worlds.

Will shows up at the boundary between the wilderness and human habitation. He shows up as a prophet and a seer, a quiet prophet and a clear-eyed seer. Like Janus, the Roman god of beginnings and transitions, he looks toward the wilderness and toward our species, seeing both at the same time.

 

Purity of heart is to will one thing is the title of a short work by Soren Kierkegaard. In it he takes the focus from living by and for the expectations of others-rigid social roles, often determined by class distinctions, were still the norm in his 18th century Europe-and places the focus on the individual. The individual, Kierkegaard says, has the responsibility to choose how he or she will live and in that living what will be the aim, the purpose, the vision of that life. Will’s vision had to do with living in the wilderness and from that clarity of purpose flowed the rest: the expeditions, the education of kids, the focus on leadership.

Albert Camus, the French existentialist, said life is a river, a river that flows into one sea: death. All of us humans are in this river and we all flow with it toward the same end. We owe it to each other, he said, each of us facing the same fate, to make the journey to death as pain free and pleasant as possible. To hold Camus’ insight at the center of a life would be a way of willing one thing.

Existentialism and its bare aesthetic, its unrelenting turn toward reality as it is rather than as we would wish it to be, insists on choice as the defining characteristic of a well-lived life. There are certain things, however, that we cannot choose. We do not choose our parents, our siblings, the place where we grow up nor, importantly, do we choose the time, the geist into which we are thrown. This concept of thrown-ness comes from the work of the German philosopher Martin Heidegger. It reminds us of the limits to our ability to choose.

Why, as the British would say, bang on about Will Steger and choice and existentialism? Because a commitment to social justice is just such a choice. Because Will’s example shows that the choice to pursue social justice may flow from a seemingly unrelated decision. You might have decided that healing was at the core of your life’s purpose. You may have chosen children, or the labor movement, or family, or truth. Or beauty. Perhaps social work or engineering or music or financial planning lies at the heart of your life.

In the purity of your heart what is the one thing that you will? Or, if, like most of us, your will divides, forking say at the intersection of family and children, or financial planning and music, or art and community, then what would you, if you stripped yourself down and focused on what really matters most, what would you will with all your heart? What would be your equivalent to Will’s decision to live in the wilderness with no road?

Perhaps you’ve always had, like Will, that center to your life, that pure, bright beacon that has called you forward. Perhaps not. In either case, let’s focus on a critical element of Will’s story and see if your choices have led you to a similar spot.

Will moved to the wilderness. He engaged in outdoor education as a job, then went on expeditions of discovery and adventure. As he did this, his face turned constantly toward the wilderness and back toward the school children or the funders or the source of changes he found in the wilderness, he slowly realized that to live in the wilderness and be self-sufficient, he could not ignore the choices others were making.

The use of fossil fuels fouled the atmosphere. Lead and mercury and acid literally rained down into the Boundary Waters and onto the arctic and Antarctic and Greenland ice sheets. A lover of the wilderness, one who would live there, had to see these realities and act.

A person close to me cared for children for the last 40 years of her professional life. She did that within a medical delivery system increasingly designed by corporate and bureaucratic logic-with those ends dominant, not healing. Is it any wonder that as she looked in toward her patients and then out toward the society in which she lived that she became a stubborn advocate for a single-payer health system?

A woman I knew, a lawyer, became involved with the rights of persons in state institutions. Over the course of her involvement with them is it any wonder that she filed the lawsuits that deinstitutionalized Minnesota’s state hospitals?

Or, there was the guy, thrown, in the Heidegerrian sense, into a small bedroom community for workers in the automobile industry, who grew up with the labor movement and organizing against wealth and concentrated power. Is it any wonder he spent a lifetime organizing on behalf of working class and poor families?

No, it does not always happen that willing one thing will turn you toward acts of social justice, but it is significant that affecting a Janus-like position toward that which you put at the center of your life and the world context in which it exists, will so often carry you there.

We’ll end with another instance, perhaps a change that has already come into your life as it has in mine. Grandchildren. I don’t want to say that grandchildren are at the center of my life because they’re not, though they’re pretty damned important. I do want to say that being with our grandchildren, Ruth and Gabe, 8 and 6, gives me a clear focus on the future, that is, the world in which Ruth and Gabe will grow up, in which they will have children and in which they will grow old.

I know, as you probably do, that it will be a much warmer world and one with more erratic weather and changed food production systems-even if we do alter our carbon emissions. It will be a world in which the current gap between the 99% and the 1% will get wider-if nothing changes. Just taking these two instances, as I look at Ruth and Gabe and, at the same time, at that future, those gazes will inform the political choices I make now. Perhaps that’s true for you, too.

 

 

Enough

Samain                                                                   Moving Moon

Back from Groveland. A period put now to ministry. The Woollies showed up en masse thanks to Ode’s organizing. The conversation after Purity of Heart Is to Will One Thing was solid, engaging. Interesting. And deep.

Told Kate that with the docents, the Woollies and the Groveland send-offs I feel affirmed. She said I could gloat if I wanted. No, I said. Affirmation is adequate. More than adequate, she said. Yes. Affirmation is enough.

It means that somehow the sum of how I’ve shown up in the world has been a positive for some people. Enough.

No Chaos Like Move Chaos

Samain                                                                       Moving Moon

11 seasons and 3 episodes of Midsomer Murders. We made a valiant effort to complete the full 15 seasons while still in Minnesota, but we have failed. It will be a thread of continuity from our recent time here.

Pack, Pack, Pack. Watch the British kill each other. Watch Chief Inspector Barnaby figure out who did what to whom. It’s been a good segue to sleep since, as I understand it, the mystery novel is all about restoring order to a chaotic world. In the life of the well-mannered Midwesterner there is no chaos like move chaos. Barnaby gave us hope.

At Groveland tomorrow I’m ending my ministerial career, begun in 1971 at United Theological Seminary in New Brighton, continued with my ordination in 1976 to the Presbyterian Ministry and redirected when I was accepted as a UU clergy 20 years later in 1996. I’ve done little since 1991 but preach occasionally (though there was that rouge attempt to re-enter the ministry full time in the late 1990’s) and this will be the last of that. It feels like time to close off this chapter of my life.

This is the dogs next to last night here since they head off to the kennel on Monday. They don’t seem nostalgic. At least not so far.

A Taste of Finality

Samain                                                                                  Moving Moon

Another day of packing but this one. Is different. It has that taste of finality. The things that I had waited to pack, waited until the last minute, all of those are in boxes except this computer and its accessories like the printer.

That’s not to say the room is empty. The file cabinet is still here, a bookcase tall and two bookcases short, a cabinet with glass doors, two desks and the disassembled IKEA shelving, a chair, a rug. There are, too, documents related to finishing up a book for the new owners, various papers about Black Mountain Drive, my laptop and its accessories.

But, if you came in here now you would know the current resident was on his way out.

Headed, he might say if asked, to the mountains.

Soon. Now.

Samain                                                                           Moving Moon

The last Minnesota business meeting. Our last Saturday here. A week from today Tom and I will be in Colorado, presumably a bit sleepy but with three dogs in their new digs. (pun intended, though I hope the soil is too rocky for much digging.) Kate will be on the road, probably in Colorado around Sterling or Ft. Morgan.

The very last packing is to be done today. Then, preach tomorrow and finish last minute matters here. Packers come Monday. The dogs go to Armstrong’s for one last stretch at doggy camp. When the dog’s leave for four days, the move will be officially underway, not to be finished until the last box has been placed in its respective room the week of Christmas.

Time to get to it.

Nocturne

Samain                                                                              Moving Moon

The sleep deprivation demon has come out to play the last couple of nights. Wake up for any reason and, wham! How will we give water to the dogs on the trip? Have we disclosed everything we need to on the disclosure statement? Where will we get the cashier’s check for the movers? Here or in Colorado. Those last minute meds. Will they show up in time? Just like that your mind is awake and generating a list of things you hadn’t even considered up to that point. How energetic of you, mind.

Again, this seems normal. Feels like waiting for Christmas and Santa. The lights are on, the trees up, the presents are under the tree, but still. We. Have. To. Wait.

Getting closer and closer. We’re under a week today.

Talked with Kate over lunch today and said I don’t feel regret, sadness, nostalgia. Those feelings have come up, had their moment, as long as they needed. It’s nice, because it leaves me free to feel excited, even gleeful. And, I do.

_________ the terrorists have won.

Samain                                                                                Moving Moon

If you, ______, the terrorists have won. Stop shopping. Stop flying. Stop going out at night. Stop eating Cheerios. You remember this dark comedic line delivered as a straight line by our highest governmental officials.

While clearing a cache of newspapers out from underneath our stairs, a collection hidden I imagine in attics and basements across the land, several headlines blared out. Taliban Keeps World Waiting On Turn Over of Bin Laden. Dateline September 19th, 2001. The Day The World Changed. An Economist cover from that same week.

The impulse that had me storing these and learning about Islam for well over a year has long since waned in strength. These artifacts no longer have the heat they did when I laid them one on the other over a decade ago.

As I took them out to the trash though, an idea did strike me. What if we said this? If you mount a global military campaign killing thousands of civilians, engage in pre-emptive warfare, torture any believed at all complicit, sweep up information on the entire US population and many foreign countries, and ravage the political culture at home, then, oh yes, then, the terrorists have won.

 

Scut Work

Samain                                                                                    Moving Moon

like thisThe scut work. The last stuff to throw out. A bagster is set up in our third garage bay, getting filled with overflow from the shop: old hacksaws, rusted screws, chargers to tools no longer owned, chunks of shelving for units long ago discarded.

Into it also went those old squirrel proof bird feeders. These last had a bar that the weight of the bird landing would not depress, so the bird could feed. A squirrel’s weight on it depressed the bar, closing the feeder. That was the theory. The squirrels would balance on the main part of the bird feeder, stretch out a paw and. Food!

A few red boxes for half-priced books, some stuff for Goodwill, old posters, dishes, a cross given to me by a Presbyterian church after I preached, old fraternity paddles from Kate’s college days. Somebody can pretend they were in Beta Theta Pi.

Decisions now are summary. Yes, that goes in trash. No, we’re going to put that in the trash, too. Trash wins all ties.

There is no joy in these acts; though, as Kate said, once we get the place feeling less cluttered, we’ll feel better. She’s right. It looks right now as if we are living the life of highly organized hoarders. Rows of boxes. Stuff put out for donation or recycling or trash.

 

Last Week

Samain                                                                         Moving Moon

This is our last week as residents of this house, of Andover, of Minnesota. Next week this time we will be staying in a local motel, our stuff stripped out of the house and already on its way.

My main desire right now is to put an end to packing, to getting ready and get on the road. But the time is not yet. Not quite. So close I can see it, but not quite.

The desire is not about stress. We’ve done well at managing the terrain of a long distance move, pacing it out so we could finish our work in chunks over the last seven months. The desire to end the process comes more from the wearying sameness of preparation and no action.

All this is minor league stuff compared to the awful news Pam, a woman helping us with final clean-up today, got over lunch. Her daughter called and said that a good friend of hers had died while on her honeymoon. She went down on a scuba dive off Cozumel, came up, told her new husband she didn’t feel well and died right there, in the water.

So. Bad.

Ban Torture Reports

Samain                                                                            Moving Moon

Found this on facebook. It’s from this article in the New Yorker.

 

WASHINGTON (The Borowitz Report)—Former Vice-President Dick Cheney on Tuesday called upon the nations of the world to “once and for all ban the despicable and heinous practice of publishing torture reports.”

“Like many Americans, I was shocked and disgusted by the Senate Intelligence Committee’s publication of a torture report today,” Cheney said in a prepared statement. “The transparency and honesty found in this report represent a gross violation of our nation’s values.”