Can You Bear It?
--a sermon for our intergenerational flower service--
Rev. Mark Stringer
First Unitarian Church of Des Moines
6/8/08

“Each of us needs to receive in order to grow up, but each of us needs to give something away for the same reason.”
–Norbert Capek, during the first flower festival sermon: June 24, 1923

 

 

Sermon

Most of you know that today is my first Sunday morning in the pulpit here in over five months.  Thank you again for the precious gift of time that you gave to my family and me over the course of my sabbatical.  I know from the wonderful Sunday service that was offered last week, a service during which people shared what they had learned in my absence, a service that would have made any minister beam with joy, just as I did…I know that you had a rich time of your own.  I am confident that the mental and emotional space afforded me by this period of reflection, renewal and study will continue to pay dividends for our church and for me and we head boldly into our future together.

 

Today, I want to tell you a story that comes from that sabbatical.

 

On an early February afternoon, I was visiting with one of my spiritual mentors, sharing my strange and wonderful, still-dawning sabbatical reality with her.  I remember telling her how extraordinary it all seemed…that this congregation would entrust this adventure to me, and how it didn’t seem fair that everyone doesn’t get this kind of intentional opportunity for reflection and renewal.  Then, as was the custom of our meetings, I reported on the current state of my life. Susan, Leah and I were healthy.  All of our needs were being met.  Sure, we still owned two houses, and were paying two mortgages and money was getting tight, but a few weeks earlier we had accepted a contingent offer and the promise of a sale seemed imminent at last.  Sure we were in the midst of a brutally snowy winter, but it would surely come to an end at some point. Sure I was getting sucked into the passion and punditry of an ongoing presidential primary that, I’ll admit, was becoming a kind of dangerous obsession for me.  But could I be blamed for being passionate about the choosing of our future president? Susan had taken advantage of this time to go back to school and to enrich her life, a life that by circumstance, if not necessity, often has to take a back seat to mine.  We both had more space in our lives than usual to regularly exercise. I was spending lots of time with my daughter, enjoying her precious four-year old personality, and I was busy reading books and preparing for travel that promised to offer just the right amount of learning and leisure.  “Everything seems to be lining up,” I told my friend.  “I can be nothing other than happy right now.”

 

My wise friend smiled and nodded. And then she quietly uttered the sentence that I still cannot get out of my mind.

 

She said, “So the question for you is:  Can you bear it?”

 

Her comment caught me off guard.  I smiled and kind of chuckled, the way I would when I am being teased and want to show that I get the joke.  But my friend wasn’t laughing.  She was carefully and sincerely putting forth what she believed might be the real question of my life at that point in time. 

 

Our time together that day was nearing its end, so I told her that I needed to reflect more on her question and we soon made our goodbyes.

 

As I walked home through my snowy neighborhood, I turned her words over and over in my mind.  “Can you bear it?”

 

Can I bear my happiness?

 

Each time I examined this precious jewel of a question, I caught a different hue of meaning.  It struck me like a Buddhist koan, a riddle used to teach us that logic sometimes is not enough, that what should be obvious often is hidden, and that enlightenment more readily comes to those willing to take the risk to see life as the paradoxical enterprise it truly is.

 

What does it mean to “bear happiness”?

 

Bear can mean “to carry”, like “bearing water.”  Could I “carry” this happiness?  Could I maintain it?

 

Bear can also mean “to have or display”, like bearing a name, or a visible mark, as in a suit “bearing a flag pin.”  Could I “outwardly display” this happiness?

 

Bear might mean “to take responsibility for” as in “bearing scrutiny or the bearing the challenge of a life’s calling.”

 

Then there’s the bearing of creation, as in bearing children or bearing fruit.  Could I “create” happiness?

 

These are all appropriate definitions that, when applied to the “Can You Bear It?” question, create interesting metaphors for those willing to engage in their deeper meanings.

 

But the one definition that seemed the most paradoxical, and perhaps therefore, the most intriguing to me, was the “to bear” that means “to endure or tolerate”. When we talk about bearing something in this way, it’s always the bad stuff, right?  We bear rough weather…and flooded basements.  We bear jobs that drive us nuts.  We bear bad traffic, bad leaders, bad food.  We bear health challenges, relationship challenges, financial challenges….

 

Wouldn’t one definition of happiness, maybe even the most common definition of happiness, be the absence of these kinds of challenges? 

 

Was I to believe, then, that even the absence of challenges is something to be endured?  Was my happiness something that I was going to have to bear?

Could I “endure” this happiness?  Could I “tolerate” being happy?

 

Perhaps it seems absurd to even ask that question. To suggest that happiness is something to be endured is to really see the glass half empty, right? Surely we know people who would say, “Hey, just give me even the slightest taste of happiness, buddy, and I’ll show you how to tolerate it!”

 

And yet.  And yet….

 

The question was beckoning that I go deeper.

 

One step deeper came when I read a poignant memoir by Kate Braestrup called Here If You Need Me.  In this book, she shares the story of the tragic highway accident death of her State Trooper husband, which left her a single parent of four young children.  And she tells of her surprising journey to seminary and UU ministry that followed and her current job as a chaplain to the Maine Warden Service, the people who, among other jobs, are charged with searching for people who have been literally lost in the woods, sometimes never to be found. She describes in detail this life of ministry that at times threatens to rip her heart out, even as it makes her abundantly happy… a life of ministry that covers all the aspects of her life—her relationships with her children, her still ongoing grief over her husband and the mourning for a life that was, and, her chaplaincy with the brave and devoted men and women of the warden service.  As she accompanies these wardens into difficult searches for missing persons, and particularly when she sits vigil with family members hoping and praying for their loved ones to be found, she comes to one of the defining conclusions of the book. “A miracle,” she writes, “is not defined by an event.”  After all, her husband’s death was a miracle by some definitions, as was her discovery that she had become a minister.  No, a miracle is not defined by an event or the particular circumstances of our lives. “A miracle,” she writes “is defined by gratitude.”[1]

 

I applied and translated her wisdom to my own ongoing “Can you bear it?” meditation.  “Happiness” I acknowledged, is not defined by an event or even a lack of events.  Happiness is defined by a constant, undeniable sense of gratitude…even in the face of challenges.  Maybe even especially in the face of challenges.

 

The deeper meaning of the question “Can you bear it?” began to emerge:  “Can you appreciate your life now enough to carry you when circumstances will be different, as they most certainly will be?  Can you savor and learn from this happiness and see it as the gift it truly is?”

 

I was getting closer to the truth I needed to find.

 

Just last week I read a biography of Dr. Norbert Capeck, the Unitarian minister who 85 years ago created the first flower communion service for his congregation in Prague, Czechoslovakia. Every June here and in countless other UU churches, we share the story of how Capeck wanted to create a ritual for his growing and diverse church that would symbolize not only the variety of people present, but gifts that await the members amidst this diversity.

 

In the week before the service everyone was asked to bring a flower, or even a twig, from a garden or a shop.  Upon arrival, each person was to put his or her flower into a vase, signifying that each had freely chosen to enter this service, each had freely chosen to enter the community.  For Capeck, the vase was just as important as the flowers, for the vase symbolized the church. He said, “We need [the church] to help us share the beauties but also the responsibilities of communal life.”  It is through the church that we are able to expand our influence for the common good beyond our individual lives.  It is through the church that we can deepen our understanding of how to receive and how to give.  After Dr. Capek blessed the flowers, each person would leave the service taking a different flower than the one he or she had brought—a symbol of acceptance of one another and of each person's unique contribution to the life of the community.

 

I’ve always appreciated this ritual, much like Dr. Capeck did even the first time he asked his congregation to do it.  He described the beauty of seeing the members each taking “one flower…just as it is…without making any distinction where it came from and whom it represents” thereby confessing “that we accept each other as brothers and sisters without regard to class, race or other distinction, acknowledging everybody as our friend who is human and wants to be good.”

 

But Dr. Capeck left us far more than a poignant ritual that we share each June.  He left us a legacy of a life well-lived, even in the face of the most severe adversity.  He left us an example of someone who could most definitely “bear it.”

 

His life had many peaks but more than its share of valleys as well.  Two times he was widowed with young children.  He was run off from more than one church for being too liberal in his understandings of religion.  He helped organize one of the most vibrant congregations his native Czechoslovakians had ever seen, encouraging the people he served to purchase a property so that they could have their own space, only to see them face financial crisis after financial crisis.  He was slandered by people he once thought were his friends.  And yet he endured.  He endured not just in spite of his pain and disappointment, even though I’m sure the painful events of his life didn’t ever fully leave him.  No, I think he would say that he endured because of his happiness, because he had seen what was possible in human community, because he still held to the ideal that, in his words, “The most important and useful spiritual activity is the conscious and willing creation, changing, or even discarding of our mood, and introducing a new and better example.”[2]

 

Life was one big, “Can you bear it?” enterprise and his consistent answer was a resounding yes.

 

When the Nazi regime was bearing down on and finally occupying Czechoslovakia, virtually everything that he and his congregation had taken for granted was taken away.  His beloved wife and co-minister, Maja, escaped to the United States.  Most of his children, now adults, scattered, too.  But he remained with his congregation, believing in their mission more fervently than ever, the mission of bringing people together to “practice the art of living a beautiful and creative life” [3] even amidst despair.  Especially then.

 

In 1941, the inevitable happened.  Capeck, now in his seventies, was arrested by the Gestapo and eventually sent to a concentration camp at Dachau.  Recorded memories of those who knew him there indicate that his buoyant spirit, even in the inhuman conditions of that camp, lifted up many of his fellow prisoners.  Amazingly, the result of ingenuity we can only imagine, there are a few letters that remain from his imprisonment, including one that was written the night before he was to be transported from Dachau to what he rightly assumed would be his death.

 

He wrote,

 

“My dearest, my one and only wife,

 

These are my final hours and my final thoughts on you, the children, on everyone and everything dear to me.  I have felt more and more, inside, that there is no other way out….I can bear the remaining four or five hours, and I will not be downcast, but will rather give myself over to thoughts of you all, who are most dear to me, the past and the future—and about your good and happy future, so well-deserved, when you will bring to fruition the best possible life, one that I would have been so happy to have lived with you so simply, in the fullness of a tried and tested love for others, and for God. I am faithful to my best and highest hope, resolve, and belief, wishing everyone well, believing in the future good of all of you:  the family, the nation, humanity, and especially those most sorely tried.”[4]

 

So, this year’s flower communion has an added power and meaning for me.  In its simple expression of the blessings of religious community, of the privilege of learning how to give and receive, I can’t help but think of Dr. Capeck and the way life questioned him over and over, just as it questions us all.  “Can you bear it?”  Can you bear knowing that this life is what we make it?  Can you bear allowing yourself to feel gratitude for all that you have despite all that you don’t? Can you bear the privilege and responsibility of building and sustaining the beloved community where diversity is sought, where life is celebrated, and where is love is the over-arching goal of it all? Can you bear living as fully and as deeply as you can, acknowledging all of life’s limits, even as you do your best to live with them and through them?

 

Can you bear it?

 

I’m still learning to say “yes.”  How about you?

 

 



[1] Kate Braestrup, Here If You Need Me (New York: Little Brown, 2007), p. 181

[2] Richard Henry, Norbert Fabian Capek: A Spiritual Journey, (Boston: Skinner House, 1999), p. 181.

[3] Ibid., p. 164.

[4] Ibid., pp. 271-272.