The Tao te Ching is believed to have been written about 3-400 BC and its authorship is ascribed to the Chinese sage, Lao-tzu. It was written in a time of troubles. China was in political, military and social upheaval. Civil war brought reprisal upon reprisal and Lao-Tzu looked around him and asked, in despair, "Can this ever be stopped?" In his time, Lao-tzu asked the question in light of the chaos that the traditionalism and power politics of Confucianism had brought to China. It is also a question we ask in our time.

Lao Tzu, according to legend, is said to have climbed on a water buffalo and ridden westward toward Tibet. He was saddened by humanity's ambivalence in cultivating the natural goodness he believed in and advocated and so he removed himself from the world seeking greater solitude in his later years. The story goes that at a mountain pass a gatekeeper sensing that this man was a sage tried to persuade him not to subject himself to the elements of the Himalayas. But the gatekeeper failed to dissuade Lao Tzu from his journey. So he asked Lao Tzu if he would at least leave a record of his beliefs to the civilization he was deserting. This Lao Tzu consented to do. He retired for three days and returned with a slim volume of 5000 characters. It was the Tao te Ching, which can be translated as The Way and Its Power or The Book of the Way. The Tao te Ching has been described as a testament to humanity's at-home-ness in the universe. It can be read in half an hour or over a lifetime.

The Tao te Ching is the fundamental text of Taoist thought and it offers in a paradoxical way a sense of what the Tao is. As one of the readings this morning said defining or describing the Tao can be difficult for it is like life itself

something blurred and indistinct,

Being blurred and indistinct, the word "Tao" has many English equivalents: God, Nature, The Absolute, The Path, or the most common translation, The Way.

To understand the Tao you experience it rather than comprehend it, for it is too far-reaching and all-encompassing to be understood solely by the intellect.

One of the best ways to describe Taoism's approach to the life of life and to spiritual growth is by citing the example of water. Water is soft and yielding. It conforms to the shape of every vessel. It settles into tranquility even after the most violent agitation. It seeks its own level by flowing along the most natural path. And yet, as Taoist writings are fond of pointing out, water is not weak. Over time it changes the appearances of all things, eating away the hardest rock and moving mountains.

Taoism emphasizes the idea of adaptability, acceptance, harmony and tranquility. Some believe Taoism is a passive religion. But Taoists would see it as the art of being what comes naturally- without any push, without a purpose. The world just happens, naturally, without doing anything. It just is.

For many of us in the West this is a difficult concept to grasp, for we see passivity as something negative. Our whole civilization is based upon action and reason. We believe that if progress is to come about, we must be the means of that progress, for if we don't do it, nothing will change. If we don't bring it about, there will be no progress.
But Taoism sees change as the natural order of things, not brought about by intentional human activity. And what changes there are in nature are created by the vibrant interplay between the opposites, yin and yang. The concept of yin and yang is crucial to Taoism. It represents the perpetual harmony and transformation of all things. The polarity of yin and yang sums up all life's basic opposites: good-evil, active-passive, positive-negative, light-dark, spring-fall, male-female.

If we think about it, we know that we are made up of these collection of attributes...There are times when we are rational and other times intuitive, there are times when women show their masculine side and times when men show their feminine side...there are times when we dominate and other times when we yield. But though these opposite are in tension, they do not directly oppose each other.

They complement and counterbalance each other.

They are in harmony and create the great unity of all that is around us and within us.
Constantly turning and interchanging places, the opposites are like the arcs of a turning wheel. I have come to believe that life does not move onward and upward towards a glorious completion. No, life turns and bends back upon itself until we come full circle.

At the center all things--at the hub--while all else around it is moving, up and down, left and right, north and south, east and west, there it is.

Call it the Tao, the Way, call it God, there it is unmoving.

Now that may be the easy part of Taoist teachings. But how do we put them into practice? How does this understanding that opposites are part of a larger unity fit in with how we deal with others? Is there such a thing as Taoist ethics. How are we to be in relation to each other in this Taoist view of the world? How can we, in this age, answer Lao Tzu's question of 2300 years ago, "Can this ever be stopped."

Can the turmoil in our world, in our cities, in our homes, in our hearts ever be stopped? Surprisingly, Lao-Tzu's answer was in wu wei, the doctrine of inaction--or literally translated from the Chinese as "not doing." In the face of all we see and know of what is happening in the world how can we do nothing?

There is something in my that says "No, I can't just sit and do nothing. I must act." There is an innate drive in me that calls me to be active in things; to change the world in ways that I believe will make it better. How can I listen to the Tao and do nothing? The answer, for me, is that the Tao doesn't ask me to do nothing--all the time. It like Ecclesiastes says, "for everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven."

I think of that tree in my backyard. It was passive. It did nothing. And yet over time the wind ripped the bag; the sun weakened it; it fell to the ground and the water and earth dissolved it. Inaction can succeed by being rather than doing; by attitude rather than action.

When I think of the Tao I reconcile myself to the understanding that life is made up of both passivity and activity, of joy and sadness; of light and dark, of good and evil, of birth and death.

Living out my life is not choosing one of these opposites over the other.

My life is the totality of these things. It is like the symbol of Taoism made up of both the yin and the yang, not two separate entities in conflict with each other, but each part of the whole of life, each within each other; each necessary for the other.

There is another classic of Taoist literature, The Secret of the Golden Flower. The golden flower symbolizes the essence of the Taoist path. Gold stands for light--the light of the mind itself; the flower represents the blossoming or opening up of the light of the mind.

There is a beautiful passage in the Secret of the Golden Flower that speaks to this and summarizes the wisdom of Taoism.

There is a term in Taoism called "turning the light around" and it came from the writings of the Taoist sage, Wenshi who wrote:

Our Way is like being in darkness.

In reflecting on those words, the author of the Secret of the Golden Flower writes

When the light is turned around, the energies of heaven and earth, yin and yang, all congeal....The light is neither inside nor outside the self.

Mountains, rivers, sun, moon, and the whole earth are all this light, so it is not only in the self.

All the operations of intelligence,knowledge, and wisdom are also this light, so it is not outside the self.

The light of heaven and earth fills the universe; the light of one individual also naturally extends through the heavens and covers the earth.

Therefore once you turn the light around, everything in the world is turned around.

The Trappist monk and student of Eastern religions, Thomas Merton, speaks of the Pivot and I ask you to see the image of the Pivot as the Tao--or the Spirit--or as God.

For as Merton wrote

The pivot of Tao passes though the center where all affirmations and denials converge. He who grasps the pivot is at the still-point from which all movements and opposition can be seen in their right relationship. Hence he sees the limitless possibilities of both "Yes" and "No."

At the still point of the turning world.
Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards;
At the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest or movement.
And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered.
Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline.
Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance,
and there is only the dance.

Whether we see it as a dance or the light or a golden flower; whether we see it as the Tao or God; whether we see it blurred and indistinct or clear and definite; whatever it is, however we name it, it is at our core. It is the essence of the Self and the true essence of ourselves.

In the dedication of John Munroe Duff this morning we used the natural images and symbols of water and the flower--a golden flower--and we spoke of the light. We dedicated the life of John to purity and beauty and knowledge. As adults we know that there is no way of life we practice that is perfect, but let us dedicate the rest of our own life to turning the light around and keeping it focused on the still point, the pivot of all existence.

Amen