Should Humans Hibernate?

There is a Cherokee legend about the Ani Tsa gu-hi clan. One boy who belonged to the clan loved to spend all day in the mountains among the bears. Every day he would return home a little hairier than he was before. Every day he was a little less human and a little more like a bear. When his parents asked him why he liked to spend so much time in the mountains he said, “Because life is easier there. There is plenty to eat. The nuts and berries of the forest are tastier than the corn and beans we grow in the fields.” His parents tried to discourage him from going up into the hills but he would not be dissuaded. “You should come up in the mountains with me.” So the boy’s parents consulted their tribal clan leaders and soon there was a great tribal council and after a long debate the whole community decided to follow the boy up into the mountains and no one heard from them again.

The common belief is that over time the people became bears because they preferred the bear lifestyle over the human lifestyle. And it is said that they left a message for the other clans saying, “We are going where there is plenty to eat and no one will ever go hungry and you should never be afraid to hunt and kill us for now we can never die. Now we will always be alive.” 

This legend challenges the anthropomorphic theology of most Western religions with humans at the apex and all other species considered to be lesser beings. Missionaries tried to convert the Cherokee to imperialistic ideas of “Christian Civilization.” And yet this Cherokee story suggests that human beings might want to consider converting into bears, converting into wild creatures, moving toward a closer relationship to nature. 

Today, I want us to consider this possibility as well, especially as we enter into the winter holiday season, a time when studies show many human beings experience winter depression or Seasonal Affective Disorder, a condition with the very appropriate acronym S.A.D. 

Of course now is the season when bears begin to hibernate for the winter. And this has inspired at least one poet to invite us to reconsider our own relationship to winter. The poet Andrea Gibson has written a poem called Instead of Depression that I’d like to share with you this morning. 

Instead of Depression 

Try calling it hibernation.

Imagine the darkness is a cave

in which you will be nurtured

by doing absolutely nothing.

Hibernating animals don’t even dream. 

It’s okay if you cannot imagine 

spring. Sleep through the alarm

of the world. Name your hopelessness

a quiet hollow, a place you go

to heal, a den you dug, 

Sweetheart, instead 

of a grave. 

I love this poem. As the Quakers say, “It speaks to my condition.” The poem suggests that this time of year Nature is telling us to slow down and rest. And the wisdom of the Cherokee and other indigenous peoples reminds us to align with the rhythms of nature, to align with the cycles of the seasons. As the nights grow longer and the days grow shorter, work less, rest more. 

According to the shamans of many indigenous traditions the bear serves as an exemplar for rebirth. Bears hibernate in winter and awaken again in the spring. In the Smokies this period of hibernation is not one long deep sleep. Instead it is a period of longer stretches of sleep. So you may occasionally see bears during the winter months but the overall trend is more rest in winter, more activity in the spring.  A mama black bear hibernates during the period of gestation so that there is both birth and rebirth in the Spring. That’s why when you go hiking in the Smokies in the Spring it is not uncommon to come across a mother bear and her cubs. 

Many indigenous peoples teach that bears have a shamanic quality because of their solitary tendencies. Many observers have noted that bears can often be found sitting still or remaining motionless in the presence of mountain vistas, lakes, rivers and sunsets. There is even some speculation that bears have an appreciation of beauty and may be engaging in some form of contemplation. So whenever we see a bear (and that bear is at a safe distance from us) we can see it as an invitation to sit and rest and drink in the beauty all around us. 

Western “civilization” is based on different principles. Instead of looking to bears for wisdom we look at machines. Deists, like many of the Founding Fathers of this country (a disproportionate number of whom were Unitarians), argued that the universe was like a machine; a clock. God was the great clockmaker. However, once God created the clock, and wound it up, God allowed the clock to operate on its own without any divine interference. To paraphrase an old ad for a brand of watches the Deist taught that, “The universe takes a licking but keeps on ticking.” A wound up clock does not slow down for winter or speed up in the spring. The clock continues at the same pace all year round, without interruption, without pause, without a moment of rest. 

Most of our workplaces are built on the machine model. So when the longer nights and shorter days are telling us to “rest, rest, rest,” our offices, workplaces and schools with their artificial lighting are telling us to “work, work, work.” Just imagine for a moment if one of your co-workers disappeared for a few hours and returned to the office more harry than before. And the next day they were away for a little bit longer and came back even more harrier. Until one day your co-worker suggested everyone in the office go up in the hills and join the bears, creating a mass exodus from the workplace. My guess is that this would not go over well with management. 

The Sufi poet Hafiz once wrote this poem about depression. The poet seems to be speaking directly to a friend who is experiencing this very difficult emotion. The poem begins by exploring the deeper and darker emotions but ends with a little bit of earthy humor. So get ready for the surprise ending. 

I know the voice of depression

Still calls to you.

I know those habits that can ruin your life

Still send their invitations

But you are with the Friend now

And look so much stronger.

You can stay that way

And even bloom!

Keep squeezing drops of the Sun

From your prayers and work and music

And from the companions’ beautiful laughter.

Keep squeezing drops of the Sun

From the sacred hands and glance of your Beloved

And, my dear,

From the most insignificant movements 

Of your own holy body.

Learn to recognize the counterfeit coins

That may buy you just a moment of pleasure,

But then drag you for days

Like a broken man

Behind a farting camel. 

That camel metaphor may (or may not) work for you. Even so, all  humor aside, during the winter months we can hear the voice of depression speak to us and this can sometimes lead us towards those habits that can ruin a life. And if the machine model of the universe isn’t working for us, if the nonstop tick, tick, tick of the clock is not working for us, then we have an opportunity to follow the example of the bears, when the nights are long and the days are short, rest more, work less. 

Activist Tricia Hersey has written a powerful book for other activists called Rest is Resistance. In it she argues that rest is a divine right. Rest is not a luxury but a necessity. Rest is a sacred act. Rest is not a waste of time. Rest makes us more human. Rest creates time for reflection and contemplation. Rest helps us to appreciate a beautiful vista, a lake, a river, a stream and enter into life’s beauty. Rest is renewal. Rest is resurrection. 

A friend who owns a farm points out that, “In the winter even the chickens don’t lay eggs.” So why do we human beings imagine that we need to be productive without any interruption through all four seasons, to be productive without any appreciation for the cycles and seasons of life, to be productive instead of aligning ourselves with Nature and the Cosmos. 

There is a Native American leader from the Lakota tribe who once wrote about the ancient ways of his people. He wrote these words using the past tense as if conceding that the way of the Lakota had given way to the age of the machine. Even so, I want to invite us to think about these words in the present tense,  “From Wankan Tanka, the Great Spirit, there comes a great unifying life force that flows in and through all things – the flowers of the plains, blowing winds, rocks, trees, birds, animals…Thus all things are kindred, and are brought together by the same Great Mystery. This concept of life and its relations…gives to the Lakota an abiding love…reverence for all life. The Lakota can despise no creature, for all are one blood, made by the same hand, and filled with the essence of the Great Mystery.” The name of the Native American leader who wrote these words is Chief Luther Standing Bear, a little bear wisdom flowing through the words of a human being. 

Activist Tricia Hersey tells us that rest is resistance. I will remember those words during the upcoming Family Promise week, a time when our congregation offers a home to the homeless in our own building, shelter from the winter cold.  I will remember those words as I serve as an overnight host, making a meaningful contribution to ending homelessness while also nestled underneath my covers in one of our new and improved inflatable beds. Rest is resistance. 

There is a Cherokee legend about the Ani Tsa gu-hi clan, a community of people who decided that they would rather be bears than human beings, a community of people who aligned themselves with that life force that flows in and through all things, the life force that can never die, the life force that will always live. Perhaps, you and I are not ready for a complete conversion. Perhaps, you and I are not ready for a total transformation. It is conceivable that many of us want to learn from the bears while also maintaining our humanity. If so, we can begin with one small step. Instead of depression, let’s call it hibernation. 

(This sermon was delivered by the Reverend Chris Buice at the Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Church on Sunday December 11, 2023)

The Buddhist Vending Machine

We began this service with the Advent Hymn, “People Look East” so it seems appropriate that we talk about the Buddha this morning. 

Many years ago I was in the Green Earth Emporium, a New Age store near the church. I was with my daughter Sally who was still in high school at the time. She kept pointing out different things she wanted so I decided to dispense a little fatherly New Age wisdom. I said, “You know the Buddha taught that it is our own desires that make us miserable. The more things we desire the more miserable we become.” Sally was quiet for a moment then she pointed to an item on the shelf and said, “Look we could get a Buddha statue!” And she was right. There was Buddha on the shelf. 

The First Noble Truth of Buddhism is “life is suffering.” And the source of our suffering is our own desires, our own cravings. In other words, ultimately the fundamental problems of the human condition can never be solved by a shopping spree. Our misery will never be sustainably relieved by a little “retail therapy.” Ultimately consumerism is not a path toward enlightenment. 

Nevertheless, when Heather Finney went on vacation in Japan this summer she sent me a picture of a Buddhist Vending Machine that she saw in the train station at Kyoto. Needless to say, this caught my attention. In America we associate vending machines with sugary sodas, snack foods and candy. We rarely think of a vending machine in relation to spirituality or religion. And yet, due to the miracle of social media I now have a picture of a Buddhist Vending Machine on my cell phone. 

As far as I know there is only one Buddhist vending machine on earth. I did some internet research and the only Buddhist vending machine I could find on the planet was the one in Kyoto. Even so, I think the idea of a Buddhist vending machine is worth contemplating as we enter into the winter holiday season. We are in the midst of a season of rampant consumerism. Malls are bustling with holiday shoppers. We are living through a time when the line between materialism and spirituality grows thin to non-existence, a time when advertisers are doing their best to kindle our desires and multiply our wants. 

I guess the idea of a Buddhist vending machine shouldn’t be too surprising. In this age of online shopping there are a wide variety of products available 24/7 catering to Buddhist shoppers; an almost endless collection of books, prayer beads, meditation cushions, singing bowls, incense, travel altars, amulets, bracelets, lamps, statues, figurines, audio guided meditations and more. 

And this is why our desires can make us miserable because our desires can be almost endless. There is a Zen saying that, “Feeding our desires cannot lead to contentment anymore than drinking salt water can quench our thirst.” 

A story is told that in one of the Buddha’s many lifetimes he was the Emperor of the World. He ruled the world for thousands of years but he was not content so he decided to go to heaven. For a while he was happy in heaven but then he realized that he was at the lowest level of heaven and he began to wonder what it might be like on some of the upper levels. So over a period of 30 million years he climbed from one level of heaven to another until he finally reached the top of the heavenly corporate ladder. In the highest heaven the king (and CEO) of all the gods agreed to share his throne with the Buddha. The Buddha was content with this arrangement until one day he thought, “I’d like to have this throne to myself. I’d like to rule the highest heaven all on my own.” And with that selfish thought he fell from the highest heaven all the way back down to earth, 30 million years of spiritual evolution undone by one craving, one desire. 

In Alcoholics Anonymous they say you know that you are an addict when, “One drink is too many and a thousand is never enough.” This dynamic is similar to other addictions whether it be alcohol or drugs, food, gambling, sex, power, wealth, fame or any kind of consumerism. An addiction is a spiritual condition in the sense that it is a craving for the infinite. To quote a country music song, addiction is about “Looking for love in all the wrong places.” Seeking the infinite where it can never be found and through experiences that can never ultimately satisfy. 

During the holidays advertisements try to prime the pump of our consumer addictions. Yet just as salt water can never quench our thirst. Consumer addictions can never lead to peace. 

The Dalai Lama of Tibet once explained this dynamic with these words, “The problem is that our world and our education (system) remain focused exclusively on external, materialistic values. We are not concerned enough with our inner values. Those who grow up with this kind of education live a materialistic life and eventually the whole society becomes materialistic. But this culture is not sufficient to tackle our human problems. The real problem is here (points to head) and here (points to heart.) Materialistic values cannot give us peace of mind – and more peace in our world…Everyone seeks happiness, joyfulness, but from the outside – from money, from power, from big car, from big house. Most people never pay much attention to the ultimate source of a happy life, which is inside, not outside.” 

Which leads us back to that Buddhist vending machine in that railroad station in Kyoto. From the picture Heather Finney sent me I couldn’t be sure what products the machine sold so I began to speculate about the possibilities (so I ask your indulgence for this imaginative exercise.) One of my favorite writings by the Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh is his meditation on brushing our teeth where he wrote, “Each toothpaste manufacturer tells us that their brand will make our mouth and our breath fragrant. But if we do not have ‘Right Speech,’ our breath will never be fragrant.” In other words, everytime we brush our teeth is an opportunity to reflect on 

the power of the words that come out of our mouth and the impact those words can have on others. We can aspire to always speak words of honesty, words that foster mutual respect, words that honor the worth and dignity of others. And so it occurred to me that one of the things in that vending machine might be Buddhist toothpaste. Toothpaste that helps us practice mindfulness, so that our breath will always be fragrant. 

Along these lines the vending machine could dispense an ear wax removal kit to help us listen to others with the ears of compassion. It could dispense packets of lens cleaner to help some of us clean our glasses and see one another more clearly and compassionately. It could dispense razors as there is Buddhist saying, “Better a shaved heart than a shaved head,” better an inward heart shaved free of attachments, shaved free of desire than merely the outward appearance of a monk, a shaved head.

Indeed, in Buddhism almost any material thing can become a source of mindfulness. After we finish our soda from the vending machine we can look at the empty can as a reminder of the impermanence of everything in the natural order. Once there was soda in the can and now there is not. After we finish the candy bar we can look at the empty wrapper and meditate on the transitory nature of everything in existence. Once there was a candy bar in this wrapper and now there is none. We can reflect that one day our own bodies will be like an empty container that will return to the earth. So there really is no limit to the items that could be sold in a Buddhist vending machine since everything can be used to help us practice mindfulness. 

However, allow me to return to the actual Buddhist vending machine in that train station in Kyoto. Through a little research I discovered its origin story. Apparently there used to be a cigarette machine in the same place until someone suggested there should be something healthier and more in keeping with this sacred pilgrimage site. Kyoto is the home of 1,600 temples. People come from all over the world to walk through the gardens and visit the holy shrines. Somehow it seemed inappropriate for a cigarette machine to be the first thing people saw when they got off the train. 

And so Big Tobacco lost one to Big Spirituality, and the cigarette machine was replaced by a Buddhist vending machine which dispenses small statues or figurines and protection charms. For example, one popular figurine is of Guanyin, the Bodhisattva of Mercy. She is the embodiment of compassion. The Christian missionaries referred to her as the Goddess of Compassion. Others have referred to her as the Madonna of Buddhism. She is sometimes pictured riding on the back of a dragon so she is an embodiment of power and agency. Carrying around an image of her is meant to provide a kind of spiritual protection. 

Oddly enough, my mother of blessed memory used to have a statue of Guanyin in her garden. I discovered the statue shortly after she died.  I often wondered about that statue because my mom was Christian not a Buddhist. She was an open-minded Christian but even so I was never sure why she chose Guanyin over Saint Francis or some other Christian saint. But the more I pondered the statue the more it made sense. Because Guanyin has many hands and the one thing every mother needs is an extra set of hands. And my mom had five children so she needed all the extra hands she could get. In that sense, Guanyin could very well be the patron saint of all mothers. 

And we know how hectic the holiday season can be for mothers. The Buddha taught that it is our desires that make us miserable. Anyone who doubts this just needs to watch a mother try to navigate her children through a toy store during the holiday season. Every meltdown on aisle 3 is a reminder of how our desires can make us unhappy. 

And so as we all navigate this holiday season, as we endure the commercialization of the winter holidays we can look east for inspiration. May the materialism all around us spur us toward mindfulness. May the products dispensed by every vending machine remind us to look at the world through the eyes of compassion, to listen with the ears of sympathy, to speak with the fragrant breath of kindness, to contemplate the impermanence of everything in the natural order, to ponder our own mortality, to strive for peace on earth and goodwill toward all people. To remember whenever we feel overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle of shopping madness to keep our eye out for that Buddha sitting on a shelf. And by doing so, may we all find some peace. 

(The Reverend Chris Buice gave this sermon at the Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Church on Sunday, December 3, 2023.) 

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