Artists of the Spirit By Rev. Steven A. Protzman March 25th, 2018 March, Sermon Part I The Broken Pieces

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1 Artists of the Spirit By Rev. Steven A. Protzman March 25th, 2018 March, 2018 First Reading: "Heartbreak" by David Whyte 1 Ernest Hemingway said, "The world breaks everyone, and some become strong at the broken places." We've all faced suffering and loss and maybe we've even felt that we've reached a point of no return. How do we respond? Is it possible that these times invite us to be artists of the spirit, not only to persevere and to repair what has been broken, but to create beauty and hope for ourselves and others? Sermon Part I The Broken Pieces Ikkyu, the Zen Master, was very clever even as a boy. His teacher had a precious teacup, a rare antique. Ikkyu happened to break this cup and was greatly perplexed. Hearing the footsteps of his teacher, he held the pieces of the cup behind him. When the master appeared, Ikkyu asked: Why do people have to die? This is natural, explained the older man. Everything has to die and has just so long to live. Ikkyu, producing the shattered cup, added: It was time for your cup to die. 2 Although this story is a wise lesson about life's impermanence, an important part of Buddhist teaching, it is too matter of fact for me. I don't like its attitude of "death and loss happen- get over it." I want to know how Ikkyu's teacher dealt with the broken teacup. Did he simply nod and acknowledge that it was indeed time for that teacup to die and then sweep up the broken pieces? Did Ikkyu get punished? Did Ikkyu's teacher feel any sorrow over the loss of a rare antique, something that must have held meaning and value for him? We've all experienced heartbreak- the loss of a loved one, a terrifying health diagnosis, breaking a beloved dish or damaging a piece of art, the end of a relationship, something that reminds us of life's fragile nature and the truth that everything comes to an end. Those times when life is a bunch of broken pieces on the floor. And if poet David Whyte is right, we do our best to avoid those broken pieces. We treat the idea of heartbreak as "something to guard against, a chasm to be carefully looked for and then walked around. We hope to find a way to place our feet where the elemental forces of life will keep us in the manner to which we want to be accustomed and which will keep us from the losses that all other human beings have experienced without exception since the beginning of conscious time." 3 We make a promise on our wedding day of "til death do us part", not understanding the meaning of those words: that even if a marriage lasts a life time, it ultimately ends in loss. For those of us who are parents, there's a strong temptation to protect our children from everything, to the point that we might want to bubble wrap them. We vote for politicians who promise to keep us safe, conveniently ignoring the truth that they're not going to be there at a cross walk to stop traffic or prevent a tornado from destroying everything we own. 1

2 And in spite of our promises, our obsession with perfection, insurance policies, our attempts to prevent change from happening, and illusions about life, heartbreak happens. When my first long term relationship ended after eight years, I was devastated. We'd talked many times about growing old together and spoke of each other as soul mates. After he moved out, I grieved intensely for a year. I alternated between fits of anger where I smashed things, shredded pictures, and destroyed evidence of the relationship and periods of intense sadness where I cried for hours and didn't sleep for days. I decided I was having a first class midlife crisis. I bought a gold sports car- a Mazda MX6- that I frequently drove too fast. I went to seminary...the usual things people do during a midlife crisis. I started working on my house and discovered that smashing 100 year old lath and plaster walls was wonderful therapy for a broken heart. I wallowed in self pity and self righteous anger and ignored the truth that the relationship had become dysfunctional and that the decision to end it was mutual. If you've been through the end of a long time relationship or a marriage, you may be nodding and saying "Yep. Been there. Done that. Had my heart broken and lived to tell about it." There have been other losses in the years since and I've managed to weather them, but only recently as my spirituality has deepened have I learned one way to thrive through life's difficult times. I've made friends with heartbreak. David Whyte says that heartbreak is "the very essence of being human, of being on the journey from here to there, and of coming to care deeply for what we find along the way... If heartbreak is inevitable and inescapable, it might be asking us to look for it and make friends with it, to see it as our constant and instructive companion, and even perhaps, in the depth of its impact as well as in its hindsight, to see it as its own reward. Heartbreak asks us not to look for an alternative path, because there is no alternative path. It is a deeper introduction to what we love and have loved, an inescapable and often beautiful question, something or someone who has been with us all along, asking us to be ready for the last letting go." I've come to understand that heartbreak is a reminder that I am capable of loving deeply and being fully human. I've also grown spiritually by recognizing that I'm not defined by a relationship or career or any of the things society says are necessary. One writer says, "we are all so much more than our identity, an identity that has been broken or lost because of hurt and trauma... we are a sacred container for the content of our lives, a vase of possibility that stands proud and whole as a thriving testament to the beauty, grace and resilience of the Human Spirit... cracks, broken pieces and all." What is your relationship to heartbreak? Do you avoid it at all costs? Or has time and wisdom and life's losses helped you make friends with heartbreak and know deep within you that you are a testament to resilience, to perseverance, to the grace and beauty that life holds even in the most difficult moments of living? Interlude Second Reading: "Illuminating the Beauty in our Broken Places" by Omid Safi 4 Third Reading: "The Joins" by Chana Bloch 5 2

3 Sermon Part II Artists of the Spirit Making friends with heartbreak, welcoming it as one of life's companions, won't make life's losses and suffering go away. Another measure of a mature spiritual life is how we respond when these things happen. This week UUS member Jeffery Ford shared a reflection with me titled: "Suffering Will Not Define Me". He wrote: "I recall laying in the hospital around the time I lost my legs. It was a long night; in the early morning my thoughts turned to my kids, Michael and Katharine. As young adults they had been relatively sheltered from the set backs and the suffering that permeates life. I knew that someday they would come face to face with their own purgatory. I knew then that I wanted them to know that questions of why are a dead end. I knew then that I wanted them to know that suffering does not define us - rather our response to suffering defines us." He goes on to say that he made a choice to be fully engaged in his recovery: "I had not simply been a drowning man whom modern medicine saved. I was not simply the recipient of an insane amount of support from family and friends. I had actively swum toward the life raft. I had grabbed hold of the rescue buoy. By setting an example for my kids - I came to realize, I found myself thriving." 6 What I most admire about Jeffery is his honesty, his vulnerability, his ability to make jokes about his limitations and to celebrate his scars rather than hide them in response to a world that worships perfection. What if we chose not to hide but to embrace and share our fullest selves, scars and all? To see our life as a work of art? In the 15th century, the ruler of Japan, Ashikaga Yoshimasa, broke his favorite teacup and sent it to China for repairs. It came back mended with unpleasant metal staples. Seeing how ugly the cup was, Yoshimasa was unhappy. He ordered his craftsmen to look for a more flattering means of repair. The potters decided to fill the cracks with lacquered resin and powdered gold. Once repaired, the cup was not only usable again but it became a work of art. This art form is known as kintsukuroi. It is also referred to as kintsugi, meaning "golden repair." Rather than hidden, the breaks and repairs are a part of the object's history and a source of beauty. Kintsugi pieces are actually more valuable and sought after as works of art than the undamaged, original objects. Poet Chana Bloch wrote: Sometimes the joins are so exquisite they say the potter may have broken the cup just so he could mend it. 7 "Behind kintsugi is a spiritual philosophy, wabi-sabi, or the embracing of imperfection. A much-used, well-worn object, for example, is considered beautiful for its history and for how useful it s been. The cracks signify an event in the life of this bowl, the way a scar or a laugh line might signify an event in a person s life. The cracks in a dish are 3

4 considered something to celebrate, not something to hide. It reminds us that the things we think are flaws like scars, blemishes, wrinkles, or other signs of our own wear and tear are actually signs of our unique growth and stories." 8 Omid Safi says: "I wonder what it would be like to live knowing that our own hearts are like these cracked, illuminated, and healed dishes. We see what was once broken and is now healed." 9 This is not about glorifying suffering and loss, or an encouragement to seek them out, but an invitation to respond to the reality of life's brokenness and imperfections by honoring the entirety of who we are, scars and all. But the mature spiritual life doesn't end with self love and acceptance. True spirituality is about sharing our authentic selves by opening our hearts, which are stronger, more beautiful, more whole, and more compassionate because of the suffering we've experienced. Opening our hearts to others as they face suffering and loss. In his sermon during the dedication service of this building, Rev. Rob Eller-Isaacs gave us three keys to thriving as a congregation. He told us to begin with a deep spiritual life in which we receive the gifts of regular spiritual practice and want to share them with others. He says: "When we realize we want to give away what we have kept we need to embrace the second core obligation of living a conscious, mindful, loving and effective life. This second obligation is to work to strengthen one other as we learn how best to be with other people one on one or in small groups. Our hope is that in time we will learn to go deep quickly, especially with strangers." 10 There's so much suffering, loss and heartbreak in this world. There are people in this room who are suffering and struggling today. What if you took the risk to go deep in your next conversation? What if you invited someone to share their suffering and struggle with you by modeling vulnerability and openness? Imagine how much deeper, how much richer, how much more authentic our relationships with one another would be. Omid Safi says: Give me someone who knows their own vulnerability and sees mine. Give me someone whose cracked spaces are golden. Let s repair each other. Let s seek what s cracked in each other. Let s heal our broken spaces. Let s fill what s broken with gold. May we emerge more beautiful, more whole, and luminous. 11 This is the powerful, intimate, holy work we are here to do- filling what's broken in ourselves and our world with the gold of hope, of compassion, of faith in ourselves and one another. If we will choose to do this work, grounded in our mission to touch hearts and change lives, we will become the beloved community we seek to be. We will emerge more beautiful, more whole and truly luminous and begin to bring healing and wholeness to ourselves and to our world. 4

5 References 1 Whyte, David, Consolations, "Heartbreak", Langley, WA: Many Rivers Press, Reps, Paul and Senzaki, Nyogen, Zen Flesh,Zen Bones, Rutland, Vermont: Tuttle Publishing, 1988, pg Whyte, David, Ibid. 4 Safi, Omid, "Illuminating the Beauty in Our Broken Places", On Being, April 13, 2017, 5 Bloch, Chana "The Joins", Poetry Daily, Ford, Jeffery, "Suffering Will Not Define Me", reflection. 7 Bloch, Chana, Ibid. 8 Casely, Laura, " Broken Plates Get A New Meaning With Kintsugi, The Art Of Finding Beauty In Flaws", article, 9 Safi, Omid, Ibid. 10 Eller-Isaacs, Rev. Rob, "What You Can Expect", Sermon, Dedication of the UUS Building November 5th, Safi, Omid, Ibid. 5