June 2002
What do we fight against? Our fight is against lies,
mendacity, deceit, bullying and everything that belittles, enslaves,
or would destroy a human being.
-Norbert Capek
Fragile and Rooted
by Joan Van Becelaere, community minister, First Unitarian
Church of Denver, Colorado, coordinator of Academic Administration, Iliff
School of Theology
My house has this teeny, weeny postage-stamp-sized plot of dirt in
the back. Faithfully, every spring, I get back there with my purple
garden gloves, a little spade and hand rake, a potion of incredibly
smelly fish-emulsion fertilizer, and I plant flowers and herbs. Now
mind you, the poor plants don't always live past this traumatic experience,
but at least I try. It's my personal tribute and acknowledgement of
my rootedness in the earth and the circle of life.
I like planting flowers. They amaze me. If you stop and think about
a flower, you know, "stop and smell the roses," you can't
help but be just a little amazed. They have an excess of color and fragrance
that they share willingly, unselfishly, with everyone who comes along.
They give to bird, bee, and bureaucrat alike. The poet and mystic, Howard
Thurman, once wrote a meditation about a flower, the fire flower. Here's
a bit of it.
"They call it the fire flower-delicate pink as if it gathered unto
its gentle petals the beauty of fading embers and dying flame. The story
goes that its chief joy is to spring into life in the places that have
been burned to blackened ash with nothing left to remind of grasses
that were once green and shrubs that flourished in their own quaint
or strident glory. To spring into life with color and freshness where
fire has burned and heat has laid waste-this is the quality and the
grace of the fire flower." Thurman then goes on to compare the
flower to those people who are self-assured, and rooted in themselves
enough to be able to say the right word, bring in the appropriate gesture,
or the simple deed that heals wounds, quiets discord, or brings joy
in the midst of pain. He says these people, "make the barren place
fruitful, the burned-over area spring into life with color and freshness.
What a gift of God, what a grace of life to be blessed with the magic
of the fire flower."
The fire flower is both fragile and rooted. People who bring freshness
to the barren places are also fragile and rooted.
I believe our liberal religious movement remains strong if we stay actively
rooted and nourished in our history and our principles. The story of
Norbert and Maja Capek is one of our very deepest roots.
Norbert Capek was a remarkable man-a minister, missionary, publicist,
and composer of hymns. He was also a heretic, a rebel, and
politically dangerous.
Norbert Capek was born on June 3, 1870 in Bohemia, which was at that
time a part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. His family was too poor
to give him an education so they sent Norbert to live with his Uncle
Victor, who was a successful tailor in Vienna. Norbert was expected
to work his way through the university as an apprentice.
Like everyone else, Capek was raised as a Roman Catholic, the state-supported
religion. But, at the age of 18, he rebelled and became a Baptist. His
uncle promptly booted him out of the house. The Baptists took the young
man in and put him through seminary. Capek served Baptist congregations
in Saxony and Moravia and was very successful in his ministry.
While serving the Baptist congregations, he began to study the American
"social gospel" movement of Walter Rauschenbusch, Reinhold
Niebuhr, and others. And he explored the history of radical Christian
movements in Czech religious history. As a result, he became alert to
political issues, and his religious stance became increasingly liberal.
He insisted that religion apply to the lives of real people.
Capek first became interested in Unitarianism in 1910. At that time,
he petitioned the American Unitarian Association to support his growing
efforts to promote liberal religion in Eastern Europe. But at that time
the Unitarian Association didn't see much value in international ties
and wouldn't listen to his petition. In short, we turned him away cold.
Capek's nationalistic writings, urging independence for Czechoslovakia
from the Austro-Hungarian Empire, had been noted by the authorities
of the emperor. His religious writings were considered subversive and
the police raided his home more than once. Capek was warned that he
was in danger of immediate arrest by Austrian authorities as a subversive
and an enemy of the state.
In 1914, at the beginning of World War I, Capek moved to the United
States. His The Baptist church was beginning to notice his increasing
religious liberalism, and early in 1915 he was tried for heresy by a
Baptist tribunal. Capek was finally acquitted, and for the next three
years he was pastor of the First Slovak Baptist Church in Newark, New
Jersey. Throughout World War I and his time in the United States, he
was an active force in the movement for Czechoslovak independence.
Maja V. Oktavec was born in Bohemia and came to the United States in
1907. She studied library science at Columbia University and in 1914
was put in charge of the Czechoslovak Department of the New York Public
Library. There she met Norbert Capek who was studying for a Ph.D. at
City College. They were married in 1917 and moved to Belleville where
Capek became pastor of a small congregation. But in 1919, having come
to the conclusion that he could no longer be a Baptist, he resigned
his pastorate.
At the end of World War I, the Austro-Hungarian Empire fell apart and
Czechoslovakia became independent. The Capeks, like other war refugees,
were eager to return to their home country and play a part in its spiritual
reawakening.
By this time, Norbert and Maja were attending the First Unitarian Church
of Essex County, New Jersey. The minister, Dr. Walter Reid Hunt, learned
about Capek's plans to return to Czechoslovakia and arranged for him
to meet the president of the American Unitarian Association, Dr. Samuel
A. Eliot. Capek's reception at the AUA was warmer this time and in a
few weeks, Capek had a commitment from the AUA to support his work in
Czechoslovakia. He bid farewell to his refuge in the United States and
he and Maja set out for Europe.
By February 1922, the Capeks, working as team, had organized the Prague
Congregation of Liberal Religious Fellowship. Almost immediately, the
services were drawing standing-room-only crowds. The Sunday sermon,
the highlight of the service, was repeated and debated in a popular
Tuesday evening program. With financial help from the AUA and the British
and Foreign Unitarian Association, they acquired and renovated a medieval
palace to hold the growing congregation and its offices. In 1926, Maja
was also ordained as a Unitarian minister.
On June 24, 1923, the first Flower Festival was celebrated. This ritual
now celebrated annually by UU congregations the world over, originated
in the Prague Congregation. Like most other folk in the Austro-Hungarian
Empire, the majority of the congregation's members had formerly belonged
to the state-sponsored church. Many had left the state church when Czechoslovakia
became independent. And many were very suspicious of standard church
rituals-as one might expect. Consequently, the services in the Prague
congregation were starkly simple. Capek wore no robe. There was no singing
of hymns, no prayers. Instead of the collection plate, the members paid
as they entered! But the Capeks sought to add a spiritual and experiential
dimension to the service that went beyond the usual spoken words of
the sermon. And so they devised the Flower Festival.
Each member of the congregation was asked to bring a single blossoming
flower to the service. At the start of the service, the flowers were
placed in a large vase in the middle of the hall. The flowers were said
to symbolize the members, each unique and free, joining together in
fellowship and accepting each other regardless of their differences.
At the end of the service, each member was to take one flower home.
The congregation found a lot of meaning in the flower festival service
and it became a tradition for them.
In 1939 Maja Capek left for the United States for what was supposed
to be a brief lecture tour to raise funds for a joint Unitarian and
Society of Friends program to assist endangered refugees and internees.
She brought the Flower Festival Service with her and it was celebrated
for the first time in the United States at the First Unitarian Church
in Cambridge, Massachusetts, in the spring of 1940. Tragically, the
Germans took Czechoslovakia while Maja was still on tour, which prevented
her from returning to Prague. She stayed in Massachusetts during the
war working at the church in New Bedford.
As soon as the Nazi army took over Czechoslovakia, Capek became a marked
man. He was interrogated by the Gestapo, whose spies listened to every
word he preached. For a time he veiled his message of freedom in Biblical
parables and religious symbolism, and for a while it worked.
Then, on March 28, 1941, Capek and his youngest daughter Zora were arrested
by the Gestapo. They were convicted of listening to foreign radio broadcasts,
a treasonous offence. Remarkably, Capek was only sentenced to a year
in prison and his daughter to 18 months. But when the Czech Resistance
assassinated the Nazi occupation leader, there was a retaliatory wave
of executions and deportations. A Gestapo officer overrode the court's
sentence and ordered that Norbert Capek be sent to the concentration
camp at Dachau. Capek's papers were marked "return unwanted."
While at Dachau, it is said that he kept up the spirits of the other
prisoners with his humor and relentlessly cheerful spirit. He was like
the fire flower blooming among the ashes of hopelessness and despair.
But on October 12, 1942 he was sent on an "invalid transport,"
and evidently killed that day either with poison gas or a lethal injection,
although his official death certificate states that he died October
30 of a cerebral hemorrhage.
Maja Capek did not learn of Norbert's death until after the war. Leadership
of the Prague church passed to the Capeks' daughter and son-in-law,
both ordained Unitarian ministers. Maja decided to work to help the
victims of the war and joined the staff of the United Nations Relief
and Rehabilitation Agency. She worked for a number of years as a Displaced
Persons Specialist in Egypt and Palestine. During her retirement, she
continued to speak at Unitarian churches and gatherings in Europe and
North America in support of the Prague church. Those who knew her described
her as possessing tremendous drive and determination combined with a
sensitive and loving heart-another fire flower blooming in the burned-out
places of the world. She died in 1966.
The Flower Festival is a symbol of our unity in diversity. It is a celebration
of the earth's beauty. It is also a lesson in the fragility and beauty
of life. And finally, it represents for us the strength and unity that
comes from rootedness in community. The ritual's poignancy is reflected
in the prayer that Norbert Capek wrote just before his death:
"It is worthwhile to live and fight courageously for sacred ideals.
Oh, blow, you evil winds, into my body's fire. My soul, you'll never
unravel. Even though disappointed a thousand times or fallen in the
fight, and everything worthless seem, I have lived amidst eternity.
Be grateful, my soul. My life was worth living. The one who was pressed
from all sides but remained victorious in spirit is welcomed into the
choir of heroes."
Quest June 2002 Contents
 From
Your Minister
by Rev. Jane Ranney Rzepka, minister, CLF
I only know my grandfather through the journal he kept. Once in a blue
moon my mom sends me copies of a page or two. A a few years back some
more of grandpa's journal entries showed up in the mail.
The pages dated from 1922 when my grandparents were traveling in Bohemia.
In Prague, to be specific. I didn't pay too much attention to these
particular pages-my grandfather wrote a lot about history and politics-the
pages read like a textbook-so I didn't feel any urgency and put them
aside for later.
Late that very night, I noticed an incredible airline ticket deal on
the Internet: buy-one-get-one-free tickets to any city in Europe for
next to nothing. I was on sabbatical, my son Adam was due for his college's
spring break, and the deal would expire in an hour. I went straight
to the phone.
"Hello Adam? How would you like to spend your spring break with
your mother?" Silence. "In Europe. Any city you want-Paris,
Rome."
"Prague," he said.
So now it was March and we were in Prague, Adam and me. While he spent
his time reading Kafka, exploring Czech jazz, and tasting cheap dark
beer, I found myself wandering into an art gallery. I stopped dead in
front of a signed photograph of the Jan Hus monument that stands right
in the middle of Prague.
To me, Jan Hus is one of ours, a religious liberal-a 15th century reformer
who encouraged equality and religious freedom and was burned at the
stake for his trouble. The shopkeeper saw me staring at our guy Hus
and asked me why in the world I was interested in him. "Tourists
only care about Kafka, cheap dark beer, and maybe the jazz scene,"
she said.
Well, why did I care?
I cared because it was Jan Hus's followers who, in the early 1400's,
served communion in a chalice to all of the people in the congregation
("utraquism"), when at that time and place, only priests were
allowed the communion wine. So bingo, instantly the chalice became a
symbol of equality for all people. We Unitarian Universalists count
Jan Hus as one of our forebears, and we join others in taking the chalice
to be our symbol.
The shopkeeper knew she had a live one here and if we bargained long
enough I would buy the picture. Which I did.
The very next day, darned if I didn't run into that same shopkeeper
on the street. It was as if she'd been looking for me. She said, "Guess
what! I have a picture of a statue of another reformer, Zelivsky! Come
back to the shop!"
Well, I didn't think it likely that I'd stumbled upon a tourist shop
specializing in authentic 15th century religious reformers. But I began
to recall that Jan Zelivsky was the radical preacher who, in 1419, once
Hus's followers were arrested, gathered a group of citizens, marched
to the town hall, and threw the local government officials out of the
windows. This began Prague's habit of "defenestrations," as
they called them, when they threw government officials they didn't like
out of the windows.
OK, so I'm buying this photograph of Zelivsky now, and the shopkeeper
has a crisis of conscience. She says, softly, that, well, maybe the
picture isn't actually Zelivsky, but it's surely some religious reformer
whom I would like. I agree to buy the photograph of the nameless reformer.
By now I see that I am on a pilgrimage. Unitarian Universalists can
do that in Eastern Europe, in Hungary, Romania, Poland, and the Czech
Republic. The statues of our heroes stand tall and proud in the centers
of town, the churches where they spoke our heresies are right there
to touch and see, and somehow, our Reformation religion lives in the
stillness of time. But heroism didn't stop then for religious liberals.
As you might expect, I had tossed the pages from my grandfather's journal
into my backpack as I set off for Prague, and as I sat one evening in
the Chalice Beer Hall (I kid you not) , I took the journal pages out
and read them.
My grandfather sat in a train station on August 1st, 1922, and wrote
several pages about Jan Hus, excited about how, centuries before, Hus
had built a new religion using the words, "Love one another and
always speak the truth." Apparently this excitement was genetic-Adam
and I hot-footed it over to Bethlehem Chapel, founded in the 1300's,
where Jan Hus preached. We were entranced. The sanctuary was simple
and spare, light and airy, a few frescos on the walls and the focus
on the pulpit rather than the altar.
Adam and I found that once you get immersed in this history, the chalice
becomes more than just a pleasant symbol for our religion. For the people
of the former Czechoslovakia, the chalice is a symbol of freedom and
truth.
My friend and colleague Mark Belletini tells about one of his parishioners
who grew up in Slovakia and was a child when the Nazis arrived. It is
a horrible story, where the little girl watched as her parents were
shot, watched as later, numbers were tattooed on her arm in the camps,
watched as friends disappeared. And yet she survived.
I'd probably say that luck helped her survive, and sublime survivor
skills. But the thing that she claimed got her through day after day
was this small, daily act: she took her finger, and each day in the
talcum-like dirt of the concentration camp, she sketched a chalice,
her symbol of freedom. Under the chalice she wrote the Czech words for
"Truth overcomes." She said, "My sketch of the chalice
on the ground contained that sacred wine of hope which I drank every
day to my delight. That sketch in the dirt gave meaning to my terrible
life."
There is power in that symbol.
And the power continues.
My grandfather, sitting the train station in 1922, writes next of a
man he describes as "a native Bohemian, educated in America,"
a minister who has just arrived back in Prague, a minister who is preaching
in the spirit of Jan Hus, a man who is taking the city by storm. My
grandfather thinks this fellow is the best thing since sliced bread.
In the journal, the minister is not named, and I was slow to understand
that the person he was writing about had to have been Norbert Cãpek-Norbert
Cãpek, who, as we read in Joan Van Becelaere's sermon, first
dreamt up the flower festival, who preached the truth as he understood
it, who served a Unitarian congregation in Prague of 3200 people, and
was killed by the Nazis.
Cãpek believed that Unitarianism needed a unifying ritual, so
he tried out this new idea he had of a flower festival. According to
Richard Henry's new book, Norbert Fabian Cãpek: A Spiritual Journey,
he wrote about it to the president of the American Unitarian Association,
Dr. Eliot.
Cãpek describes his flower festival: "In the middle of the
big hall was a suitable table with a big vase where everybody put a
flower, some lady members helping to do it nicely. The sight of the
many beautiful flowers was wonderful. . . . In my sermon I put emphasis
on the individual character of each 'member-flower'. . . . And when
they go home each is to take one flower just as it comes, without making
any distinction where it came from and whom it represents, to confess
that we accept each other as brothers and sisters without regard to
class, race, or other distinction, acknowledging everybody as our friend
who is a human and wants to be good."
Cãpek also thought the vases themselves were part of the symbolism.
He said that to produce a bouquet, flowers need something to hold them
together, and that human beings, too, need to bind themselves together
for a higher purpose, that the bouquet is more beautiful than the single
flower.
In the decades that followed, with the help of Norbert's wife, Maja
Cãpek, the flower festival became a popular Unitarian Universalist
ritual-a ritual born of a Unitarian-not adapted from another tradition.
For us it's a straight-out service of beauty with theological integrity.
Somehow it's all of a piece: the flower festival, Norbert Cãpek,
Jan Hus, the chalice, Jan Zelinski, the Czech Republic-even my grandfather's
journal. Somehow in June of 2002, as many of us gather a blossom or
two for our own rituals small or large, we join in spirit with our kinfolk
in Prague. Somehow, both in symbol and in fact, Unitarian Universalism
continues to be a beautiful thing.
Jane Rzepka
Minister
Quest June 2002 Contents
REsources for Living
by Betsy Hill Williams, Director of Religious Education, CLF
Jan Hus (or John of Husinec) was born in the small village of Husinec
in Southern Bohemia in 1369. Coming from a poor family, he worked hard
and was an exemplary student of theology at Prague University. During
those years, he developed a strong affiliation with the poor and common
people of the city. From his earliest appointment as preacher in the
Bethlehem Chapel, Jan supported practices that engaged and encouraged
the participation of ordinary parishioners. He criticized the self-aggrandizing
and immoral practices of the clergy and the church at the time, especially
the common practice of selling indulgences-documents of personal forgiveness
from the Pope that were sold for exorbitant prices to raise money for
the crusades and other church battles. He conducted services in Czech,
not Latin, and he read from the Bible in the common language. Hus was
excommunicated from the Catholic Church in 1412, not for heresy, but
for insubordination.
Quoting another reformer, John Wyclif of England, Hus argued that "sinful
authority ceases to be an authority." He firmly believed that God's
truth is truth for all-the common laboring people, as well as the clergy.
Hus garnered much support for these liberal religious views and practices
among the people of Bohemia. The Bethlehem Chapel became a rallying
place for reform, and Hus became the leader of a protest movement against
the doctrinal positions of the Roman clergy and hierarchy. So sure was
Hus that reasonable people would understand and support his point of
view that he traveled to the Council of Constance in 1415 to defend
his position. There he was accused of heresy and burned at the stake.
Hus's martyrdom intensified religious dissent in Bohemia. Hus's followers
insisted that all Christians receive communion in both "kinds."
At that time the laity received simply the bread (the Host) during communion;
only priests were allowed to receive the wine (the Chalice). The chalice
survives to this day as a symbol of freedom and independence.
Prague-the "Golden City"-was rich in silver and gold in the
13th century, rich in leadership and reform in the 15th century, and
is rich in history and symbolism for Unitarian Universalists today.
Situated in the heart of Bohemia (the main province of the Czech Republic),
Prague was traded to the Nazis in an infamous agreement between Chamberlain
and Hitler, providing it protection from wartime destruction. Ironically,
monuments like the one of Jan Hus and the chalice in Old Town Square,
stand undisturbed, testaments to religious freedom and national independence
that the Czech Republic is enjoying once again.
Quest June 2002 Contents
Flower Celebration Service
Opening Words
(for a group)
We stand in this instant
A garden blooms
We gathered it
Each flower one of us
Single, together
The quiet surrounds us
One and many
One
Opening Words
(for an individual)
I stand in this instant
A garden blooms
I gathered it
Each flower one of a kind
Single, together
The quiet surrounds me
One and many
One
Chalice Lighting
by May Sarton
Help us to be always hopeful
Gardeners of the spirit
Who knows that without darkness
Nothing comes to birth
As without light
Nothing flowers.
This reading is #691 from Singing the Living Tradition, Beacon Press,
Boston, 1993. Available from the UUA Bookstore and on loan from the
CLF Library.
Reflection: "Mother Spirit, Father Spirit"
by the Rev. Dr. Norbert Capek (English version by Richard F.
Boeke, from the translation by Paul and Anita Munk)
Mother Spirit, Father Spirit,
Where are you?
In the sky song, In the forest,
Sounds your call.
What to give you, what to call you,
What am I?
Many drops are in the ocean,
Deep and wide.
Sunlight bounces off the ripples
To the sky
What to give you, what to call you,
Who am I?
I am empty, Time flies from me;
What is time?
Dreams eternal, Fears infernal
Haunt my heart.
What to give you, what to call you,
O, my God?
Mother Spirit, Father Spirit,
Take our hearts.
Take our breath and let our voices
Sing our parts.
Take our hands and Let us work to
Shape our art.
This reading is hymn #8 from
Singing the Living Tradition.
Symbolism of the Flowers
adapted by the Rev. Alan G. Deale
East Derry, New Hampshire
Groups can read this responsively with the leader reading the first
lines and the group reading the lines printed in Italics.
Flowers speak to us of joy.
May joy be with you.
Flowers give us hope when life
begins anew each spring.
May hope begin anew each spring
in your heart.
Flowers stand for sharing.
May we share together the beauty
of the flowers.
Flowers send a message of
sympathy.
May you feel sympathy for others.
Flowers tell of friendship.
May your friendships be
everlasting.
Consecration of
the Flowers
by the Rev. Dr. Norbert Capek (adapted)
Infinite Spirit of Life, we ask thy blessing on these, thy messengers
of fellowship and love. May they remind us, amid the diversities of
knowledge and of gifts, to be one in desire and affection. May they
also remind us of the value of comradeship, of doing and sharing alike.
May we cherish friendship as one of thy most precious gifts. May we
not let awareness of another's talents discourage us, or sully our relationship,
but may we realize that, whatever we do, great or small, the efforts
of all are needed to do work in this world.
Flower Celebration
(for a group)
Leader: I invite each of you to choose a flower from our vase to take
home. Please take a different flower from the one you brought. We take
these flowers, just as they come, to symbolize our acceptance of each
other as brothers and sisters, in communion with one another. The flowers
we take represent our connection to the world around us, and to each
other.
Flower Celebration
(for an individual)
I celebrate these flowers, just as they come, each different, individual,
but forming a single bouquet. This bouquet symbolizes my acceptance
of all the parts of myself. This bouquet symbolizes my acceptance of
my place in the world, my connection to brothers and sisters known and
unknown, my connection to the world around me.
Closing words
by the Rev. Jacob Trapp,
1899-1993
May the love that makes life
beautiful,
The reverence that makes life holy,
And the truth that makes us free,
Lead us onward together into a deepening
And growing communion of life
Taking the "Communion" out of Flower Communion
Capek. Prague. Flowers. But no mention at all in this issue of "Flower
Communion." What's up with that? When Norbert Capek developed his
new flower ritual, he did so in opposition to traditional Christian
rituals. He would never have used the word "communion" in
the context of his flower ceremony. Out of respect for Capek. and the
origins of this ritual, we will use the terms that the Czech Unitarians
use, "Flower Festival" and "Flower Celebration."
- Editor
Quest June 2002 Contents
The Flower Celebration
by Iva Fišerová, Member Church of the Larger
Fellowship, Prague, Czech Republic
Note: I asked a distinguished leader of the Czech Unitarians and
CLF member, Iva Fišerová (some of you know her as Iva Kocmanova),
for her perspective on the flower celebration. She refers to two flower
celebrations-the first, 50 years ago, and the second occurring in June
of 2000, which celebrated the 70th anniversary of the formal founding
of the church and a return to their historic building after a temporary
and very upsetting displacement. Thanks Iva!
Jane Rzepka.
Sunny morning . . .a granny walking holds a grandchild's hand. . .carrying
the most beautiful flowers from the garden, entire families enter a
big house. . . there are floods of flowers on the stage of one of the
biggest concert halls in the city. . . a vivid community sharing the
mutual happiness of the gathering. . . thousands of people giving each
other friendly greetings. . . a warm and festive atmosphere. . . the
personal joy of belonging to this community. . . the early 50's in a
Communist country. . . Czechoslovakia. . . radio broadcasts live. .
. . These are tiny fragments of childhood memories that influenced my
life deeply and that have been treasured since those days. To belong
to such a
joyous community!
The flower is the most beloved symbol for Czech Unitarians: two sunflowers
are part of our symbol; flowers are lively motifs of so many of Capek's
songs; the only ritual of Czech Unitarians-the Flower Celebration. The
symbol of various unique beings-flowers/people-uniting to create a unique
bouquet. Enriching its variety by belonging. Enriching oneself by belonging.
Parting and being given a flower as a symbol of anybody in attendance
whom I am expected to accept as my brother or sister.
Fifty years have passed. Fifty years of a struggle to keep the liberal
church alive under the totalitarian regime. Then, after the liberation,
the struggle continuing.
The flower celebration of the church after an exile from our church
building that lasted seven years: The morning that all are invited to
come back to the beloved spiritual home is a sunny morning. Many of
those coming into the church are moved. Czech Unitarians belonging to
the three congregations gather with prominent guests and ministers representing
the Unitarian Universalist Association, British Unitarians, the International
Council of Unitarians and Universalists, and the International Association
for Religious Freedom who became their close friends during the last
struggle. On the stage there are the most beautiful flowers carried
from the gardens for this festive occasion. New memories of the joyous
community will be treasured for years.
We struggle to practice the noble ideas of the founder of our church-Norbert
Fabián Capek. The dream for justice has come true. After the
years of personal dedication, the stamina and catharsis of the Czech
Unitarians offer a new opportunity to lift the church up to higher goals.
Halleluya!
Quest June 2002 Contents
Flower
Communion
by the Rev. Lynn Ungar, Director of Religious Education, Starr
King UU Church in Hayward, California
What a gathering-the purple
tongues of iris licking out
at spikes of lupine, the orange
crepe skirts of poppies lifting
over buttercup and daisy.
Who can be grim
in the face of such abundance?
There is nothing to compare,
no need for beauty to compete.
The voluptuous rhododendron
and the plain grass
are equally filled with themselves,
equally declare the miracles
of color and form.
This is what community looks like-
this vibrant jostle, stem by stem
declaring the marvelous joining.
This is the face of communion,
the incarnation once more
gracefully resurrected from winter.
Hold these things together
in your sight-purple, crimson,
magenta, blue. You will
be feasting on this long after
the flowers are gone.
"Flower Communion" is excerpted from Blessing the Bread,
Meditations by Lynn Ungar, a UUA Meditation Manual, 1996. The manual
is available for loan from the CLF library.
Quest June 2002 Contents
Last updated June 12, 2005
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