“Our World is One World: Bella Rica”
by Reverend Charles Blustein Ortman
April 6, 2008
READINGS ANCIENT AND MODERN:
Our first reading is from the New Testament book of Galatians:
The entire law is summed up in a single command:
“Love your neighbor as yourself.”
Our second reading is from the poem, Desiderata, actually written in 1929 by Max Ehrmann, a poet and lawyer from Terre Haute, Indiana, who lived from 1872 to 1945. In 1959, Rev. Frederick Kates, the rector of St. Paul's Church in Baltimore, Maryland, used the poem in a collection of devotional materials he compiled for his congregation. At the top of the handout was the notation, "Old St. Paul's Church, Baltimore, A.C. 1692, which was the year that church was founded. For those who might be familiar with the piece, that is how its origin and authorship have become confused:
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story…
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive [God] to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
SERMON:
“How Could Anyone Ever Tell You,” Song by Libby Roderick: (sung a cappella)
How could anyone ever tell you,
you are anything less than beautiful?
How could anyone ever tell you,
you are less than whole?
How could anyone fail to notice
that your loving is a miracle?
How deeply you’re connected to my soul!
I came across an excellent book of short stories several years ago, “Always Home and Other Stories,” by a Massachusetts author, David Ely. My favorite in the collection is called, “Rockefeller’s Daughter.” It tells the story of a 19-year old Italian boy, Massimo, who is set up for a blind date by his good friend, Paolo. Paolo had met an American girl who was a tourist on a short visit to Rome. In order to get a date with the girl he met, Paolo needed to set up her girlfriend with a date so that they could all go out together. So Massimo became the linchpin that could make that all happen. A rich American girl, he thought? Why not! On learning of the approaching date, Massimo’s family teased him relentlessly about the “bella rica,” the beautiful and rich American girl he was about to meet.
“Bella rica,” they chanted, over and over. But when he finally met Julia, who spoke no Italian just as he spoke no English, Massimo was disappointed. He found her to be rather unpleasant and somewhat, in truth, homely. She was so unpleasant, and so obviously nonplussed by Massimo, that he decided to cut the date short. With the other couple helping to translated he offered to take Julia back to her hotel. As he was dropping her at the door, a collision with a rambunctious 3-year old girl allowed Massimo to see his date smile for the first time. And he thought then that maybe she was somewhat attractive after all. Massimo picked up the little girl – with a kiss and the greeting, “Bella bambina,” little pretty one. And when the little girl's mother arrived, she glared at him as she scooped the child away. He learned from the doorman that “rich Americans don’t like people to touch their children.”
When he got back home, he was thinking about what an unhappy and unappealing girl Julia was, and he wondered why. It all came together for him when his older brother and sister-in-law brought his new baby niece over for a visit. Everyone in the family took their turn hugging and holding and kissing the baby, cooing over her say “bella bambina” and “bella rica.” He knew that with a childhood filled with such appreciation this little one would never grow up doubting that she was loved, that she was thought of as a treasure and that she was indeed beautiful. He knew how important it was for this baby to be held, to be appreciated and told that she was a blessing. He knew in the same moment that Julia must have had few if any such experiences like that growing up. And he understood that most often people need to hear about their beauty and value from those who cherish them in order to believe it for themselves. The story ends with a very sweet encounter. Massimo goes way out of his way running to the hotel with a bouquet of flowers, arriving just as Julia and her very impatient mother are checking out of the hotel the next day.
Bella Rica: It’s not much to be just rich. But to be richly beautiful because you have been taught and have learned that you are beautiful and a treasure, now that’s something! It’s not about possessing a treasure; it’s about being one.
So this story is set in Italy. And oh, by the way, I just happened to be back this past Tuesday evening from a trip to Italy, myself. My bride of 30 years, Judy, and I went on a wonderful trip there to celebrate our wedding anniversary. 30 years is something to celebrate! Last month, when I was coming up with my preaching schedule for the Gazette, I wondered – what will I possibly preach about only four short days after returning from this trip nearly halfway around the world? That’s it, I thought! Maybe I’ll have some sort of experience about the oneness of the world. Our world is one world. Talk about going on faith!
So I’ll ask you to indulge me a bit by letting me share some impressions that I gathered as we traveled to and through Florence, Cinque Terre, Siena and Pisa. First of all, there was the incredible beauty of everything. And I’m not just talking of the wealth of artwork that’s there. Although, there is such an incredible wealth of artwork there. I now feel that I have a much greater appreciation and understanding of Michelangelo’s David as he faced off against the giant Goliath; I got to enjoy Botticelli’s paganistic portrayal of the Birth of Venus (otherwise known as Venus on the half shell); and I’ve added a new Renaissance painter (at least new for me) into my canon of favorites – Filippo Lippi. I found myself wanting to meet many of the people in his paintings. The Roman and Italian architecture itself was something of astonishing and deeply touching beauty – the power of form that has weathered so many hundreds of years, offering strength, comfort, and a kind of personal acceptance – it was so welcoming and warm – to its inhabitants and observers.
I really couldn't talk about the beauty of Italy without mentioning the food. The food and our meals were very often a work of art in themselves. My favorite though, was a lunch of local cheese that was to die for, a scrumptious loaf of warm bread just out of the oven, and a ladle full of luscious olives. We sat on a ledge on the wall of the Duomo in Siena, eating our banquet while basking in the warm afternoon sun. Oh, it was really nice!
But even all these visual, architectural and culinary masterpieces bowed to the greater beauty and majesty of nature as we found it in the terrain and in the countryside. The Tuscan valley with its rolling hills of early spring green, offset and framed by the warmth and deep richness of the earthen burnt sienna – one of the most seductive and pleasing colors I’ve ever experienced. Tuscany – Chianti! I have to mention the Chianti. I like drinking it anywhere, but there’s something very special about drinking Chianti in its homeland. It’s something almost poetic.
If you have never been to Cinque Terre, I offer it to you as perhaps one of the most beautiful places on Earth. Five small villages are built onto terraced crags along the mountains of the Mediterranean seashore. They are nestled into the most northern part of the west coast of the Italian peninsula, just where it flanges out forming northern Italy. The five villages, each of which is more charming than the last, are sewn together by a string of terraced trails – about 11 kilometers in total – that lead way up and way down, and then way back up again. They leave the calves and thighs of your legs in serious appreciation of their steep magnificence for days to come. I can still feel that magnificence in my legs today! Our entire trip was filled with extraordinary beauty at every turn, from beginning to end.
The second thing that impressed me greatly was the impact that the Catholic Church continues to maintain on the daily life of the entire Italian culture. One of the things most striking is the chiming of the church bells throughout the day – everyday. It’s a little different in the different towns and villages. In some, the bells ring to mark each hour of the day. In others, they ring at various times of the day to announce the appropriate moment for the offering of various prayers. Everywhere they ring to say – your church is here. They ring to say – another hour has gone by, what have you done with it? What will you do with the next hour? They ring to say – who are you? What are you doing? What have you yet to do? They ring to make their music a pleasingly and yet insistently predictable part of everyone’s life.
The impact of the church is also clearly evident in much, if not most, of the artwork and the architecture of Italy. It was quite amazing, especially at the Uffizi Gallery, to observe the actual evolution of art from the two-dimensional iconoclastic presentations often applied to wood, to the often voluptuous three-dimensional depictions of saints and sinners, of demons and the holy family. Among my most favorite were the many, many paintings of Madonna and Child. Among my least favorite were the numerous depictions of the crucifixion and other foreboding and threatening pictures and statues. These included the gruesome martyrdom of saints, as well as the gory deaths – presented as inevitable endings – of sinners who had obviously invested too much of their life’s energies into worldly concerns.
It gave me pause to think of the incredible amount of energy, talent, wealth and other resources that had gone into the creation of an entire culture that is based in viewing – as an external and an unrivalable reality – that which I, myself, experience as metaphor and symbolism expressing one among many perceptions and understandings of the human experience. I have to admit that it was disturbing to me, visiting this amplification of the culture of my own youth, and seeing once again the deep separation between ideas of good, always embodied outside oneself and in a personified god or in saints, and ideas of evil, come to life in the devil or most often by folks like you and me, the average schmo on the piazza.
While I am able to appreciate that such an uncompromising vision of reality helped to get many a tormented soul through some very dark ages, I’m also renewed in my gratitude for having found a religious tradition which encourages me to find beauty in good in myself, in those around me and in our planet. I couldn’t help but to draw comparisons between this Catholic orthodoxy and the orthodoxy of other world religions, who are today still in brutal wars to promote their theologies, ideologies and world views. How much better off we would all be, if we made sure that all people were fed, clothed and sheltered. How much better we would all do, if we helped to make sure all people were educated to read and to write, and to have at the basis of that education the generous notion that every person is bella rica – that every person is richly good and is capable of expressing that goodness.
The final thing that impressed me, following the beauty of Italy and the influence of the church there, was the Italian people themselves – and how they received us. I've heard a lot in recent years about how the US war in Iraq has made Americans considerably less welcome in countries around the world. I'm happy to say that, though we may deserve it, I didn't experience any of that sentiment.
Over the nine days, we really did have a lot of contact with quite a few people. For some of the folks we interacted with, it was their job to deal with us. For many others it was not. Whichever, people tended to deal with us in one of two ways. The first, and by far the greatest minority, were people who seemed to want our contact to be as brief as possible. I have to imagine that for some of these folks, it was the frustration of the language thing. I have some appreciation for that. For others in this group though, well I really can't speak for them. I would only go away from transactions with folks in this first group feeling that for some unknown reason I had been a burden.
From interactions with all the others though, and this was truly the vast majority, I felt like I'd been embraced. The language thing didn't matter. My ignorance didn't matter. People would just reach out in a welcoming way, and we would have what ever interchang it was that we were going to have.
I commented to Judy at one point that many of the people were so kind that they treated me like an imbecile. An imbecile is like a cretin, someone who needs the care and benevolent guidance of others. I appreciated being an imbecile; it allowed me to feel cared for. Some folks just couldn't let things go until they were absolutely sure that I clearly understood whatever was at issue. It really was a bella rica kind of experience – I was made to feel that I was important enough, of value enough, for the other person's investment. Of course, it was my responsibility to be sure that they had some kind of similar experience. And it made all the difference in the world.
Our world is one world. We owe each other our love and the expression of it. The stranger is not a threat. The stranger is truly our hope for salvation. It is by learning to reach out and love the stranger that there is hope for the salvation of ourselves and of our world. It's not always easy to be giving in this way. It's not always easy to be giving this way, even in our own families. Still, that is the challenge and the opportunity.
And even when we fail or when we forget to try -- when we recognize our failures and when we remember that we have not tried, then it is time to mend our ways so that we might rejoin our efforts to mending the world. And even when others make it difficult for us to track, it is all the more reason for us to reach deep, so that we might reach back out... in love.
We live in a world where on any given tomorrow we could be anywhere in this world. We need to find a way to give the love that the world needs to receive. And in that giving, we might receive what we need. It matters within the narratives of our own lives that we have limitations, and that we are suffering. But if there is any hope of our transcending those limitations and that suffering, it has to do with reaching beyond them, connecting with the world around us and with those in it. And if there is any hope of creating peace and justice in our world it will be because individual people and the nations of the world have found ways to transcend their own limitations and pain.
Our connections can be negative or positive. Negative ones tend to shrink the possibilities of relationships. Positive ones help us to grow as we help the world and those around us to grow.
Forty years ago this past Friday evening, Bobby Kennedy stood before a shocked and crowd in Indianapolis, Indiana on the night Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. He gave this same message when he said:
"What we need in the United States [and by extension the world] is not division; what we need… is not hatred; what we need… is not violence and lawlessness, but is love and wisdom and compassion toward one another, and a feeling of justice towards those who still suffer…"
I mentioned that Judy and I had taken our trip to Italy in celebration of our 30th wedding anniversary. You have to remember that we left for this trip on Easter Sunday afternoon. That was the tail end of a very busy stretch for me and a very full morning. So I can't say that I thought of everything I should have taken on the trip. And the truth is I forgot to bring an anniversary card. But I had brought along a book of meditations to read on the way by my colleague, UU minister, Barbara Merritt. On the afternoon of our anniversary, we were in Pisa and I picked up the book with the hope of finding something appropriate to read to Judy for the occasion. While she was off doing something else, I randomly picked a piece from the table of contents entitled, "It's Time Somebody Told You." It was perfect. And it fits here now, as well. Since there isn't enough time to read all of it though, I'll close by sharing an excerpt from it.
"It's time someone told you that with all your flaws and weaknesses, you are an extraordinary person, well-worth knowing. No one – especially not God or the people who love you – expects you to live without making mistakes or stumbling occasionally. It's time you looked at your own life with more kindness, gentleness, and mercy."
"It's time someone told you that you are not on this earth to impress anyone, to dazzle us with your success, to conquer all obstacles with your competence, or to offer one brilliant solution after another. We are happy you are here with the rest of us struggling souls. We are all striving to be as faithful as we can be to the truth that we understand. No more is required."
"It's time someone told you that the work you do to increase your capacity to love and to pay attention is more important than any other activity. As you advance closer to what is ultimately true and life-giving, you bless others."
"It's time somebody told you how absolutely beautiful your laughter is. You bring joy into our world."
“Just possibly, messages of love and acceptance have always been circulating in our midst. The hard part is not seeking out these positive and creative affirmations that remind us that we are loved. The hard part is taking in the love. It's time someone told us all that we are valued and infinitely worthwhile. And it's time we believed it.”
It is time indeed. You are all valued and each of you is infinitely worthwhile. Bella rica, my beautiful, treasured people. Our world is one world. Soul connected with soul it is won. Filled with incredible beauty that we are a part of, it is one. Blessed by sacred community, this community and tradition that encourage our growth, it is one. Surrounded by others, including strangers near and far, ready to give and receive acceptance and appreciation, our world is one world. Thank goodness you are in it. It could never have been the same without you. And I have faith it will never be the same for all the love that you bring to it. Bella rica!
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