Every ordinary day, I am reminded that I am weak and desperately need God.
When I forget the birthday of someone dear to me, when I lose my keys, when irritation and anger bubble up in my heart–each experience of imperfection can block my trust in God.
I am tempted to think I am worthless and ought to stop trying. In times like these, this song speaks to me.
I want to avoid admitting my brokenness. I would rather freeze and stop turning to God. Yet, I know that only God can provide the freedom and hope I need. Here is a tune to inspire faith and freewill.
I know I am a sinner. I can be cruel and selfish. Ugly thoughts and actions clog up the loving in my life. I feel dirty and worthless. Here is a song for trials like these.
Sometimes my faith doesn’t feel deep. I get it in my heart that God has the ability to work great miracles, to free me from troubles in the most dramatic of ways. Yet, my head doubts that will happen. This song helps keep hope alive.
I am constantly on a journey of conversion and transformation, as God brings me through these challenges. This tune helps me remember that God is with me in my lows and the awesome highs of life.
In the end, God’s embrace is the greatest place of peace I know. I am so restless, and God is the only source of rest and strength.
Thanks be to God for the comfort we all can know, for the music that will help us make our way through the beautiful mess of the human experience.
An old building in disrepair, collapsing toward the ground.
A rusting, defective car, stuck in layers of mud.
The sight of the simplest crack in a sidewalk can still my body, stun my soul.
The colors and textures of a simple, broken branch can inspire poetry.
It may be a bit bizarre, but brokenness really can become a gallery art piece to me.
I am in awe of the beauty of brokenness because I relate to the ordinary being an un-mended mess—a mix of decay and transformation. The objects all around me feel familiar because I have been broken and mended, again and again.
Oftentimes, it seems that brokenness is what helps me to become most in touch with my humanity; I know that this part of my nature doesn’t make me unique. In service and contemplation, I have touched physical and mental wounds in myself and others. I have heard people pour forth the worse of spiritual sorrow, anguish and misery. At times, my own doubts and struggles have been so intense that I felt incapable of doing anything but collapsing, quitting. Don’t we all feel dysfunctional, inoperable and crumbled in certain circumstances, in one way or another?
It seems to me that the season of Lent has much to do with this brokenness. As Holy Week nears and we enter into the most sacred days of the Church year, let us check in. What has happened in our hearts and in our lives as a result of our fasting, praying and penance in the desert? How have these desert days helped us to recognize where we are in need of mending, healing and reconciliation in our lives? How have our eyes been opened to the truth of our interdependence, of how we are made for community, for Christ, for others? How have we been transformed and changed? And what scars can we now bear more courageously?
A few weeks ago, I presented a program at the spirituality center where I minister about this passion of mine, the beauty of brokenness. After shared contemplation, we attempted to convey our reflections through the Japanese craft of kintsugi, which repairs objects with gold in order to highlight and honor the history of the object: the beauty of the cracks.
Here is where I learned about how to experience kintsugi, without becoming an apprentice in Japan.
During the workshop, we considered how we all might be like broken cups within God’s hands as we tried to piece them together—a complex, layered puzzle. Another poem, “The Perfect Cup” by Joyce Rupp, helped foster this reflection.
Honestly, I found it challenging to try kintsugi. My fingers became sticky, gold-spattered messes. I even cut my fingers a little on the broken cup I tried to repair. In the end, though, I really liked what I held in my hands.
In fact, I have decided that what I created is a perfect vessel for light, a beautiful place to burn candles within.
Leonard Cohen’s song “Anthem” includes the lyrics “There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” My experience trying kintsugi and reflecting on my likeness to a broken cup in God’s hands caused a spin on Cohen’s wisdom to emerge.
I believe we all are broken so that God’s light can shine out through our cracks.
By God’s grace, let us be strengthened and transformed so we can see the beauty of our brokenness. With the arrival of Holy Week around the corner, may we be ready for God’s light to beam brightly from us all. May the resurrection energy shine through our cracks, so we can help illumine dimness near and far. Amen!
My heart is broken this week. I am aching with everyone who has been hurt in any way by the shooting in Orlando.
I am bemoaning the brokenness in our world, the division, violence, judgement, and hate that allow such awful atrocities to occur. I am angry that our nation’s laws fail to protect the common good and instead make it easy for violent people to access weapons and massacre anyone they desire.
I am challenged by the love of God found in Scripture, the instructions to be people of mercy and compassion:
So speak and so act as people who will be judged by the law of freedom. For the judgment is merciless to one who has not shown mercy; mercy triumphs over judgment. ~ James 2:12-13
The law we live by is a law of love and freedom.
This is not a time for judgement. This is a time for unity, compassion, mercy and love.
This is a time to respond to cries and pleads for our kindness and prayers. As Andy Moss says in this video from CNN, we are needed to be instruments of mercy and love right now:
“Keep praying. I am not a very religious person, but whatever religion you are—whatever you believe—keep sending it our way. We all need that hope. Keep praying for us. We all need it.”
Let us pray with the hope that Andy needs from us that this is the final massacre, and that our nation will change our mindsets, hearts, and laws.
God of mercy and peace, we cry out to you for help and guidance during this time of sadness and pain. We mourn the dead and we mourn our sins that have allowed such violence to occur. We pray for everyone who is impacted by violence. Receive the beloved deceased into their heavenly home and comfort those who are suffering. Surround them with your love and peace. We pray for everyone who is tempted to perpetuate violence and for an end to easy access to weapons. Give us the grace we need to imitate you and live according to your laws of love and freedom. God, you are the source of peace and justice and we believe that you can guide us to conversion. Unite as one people and change our minds, hearts, and laws so that there will never again be another massacre. Give us the strength to be people of peace and love. Help us to be people of forgiveness and mercy and heal our broken hearts and ways and grant us peace.
And, I am getting more real with myself about my needs for real repentance. I am weak, I am a sinner. I am so far from perfect that sometimes it’s hard to believe I am a child of God.
The Truth is, Jesus was broken too. Right — he was not sinful, of course, but he certainly experienced pain, suffering and dependence on his Father for wholeness and completeness. We depend on Jesus to be whole, healthy, and holy.
Living a Eucharistic life means we embrace our brokenness and acknowledge that our pain and brokenness is, amazingly, a blessing. Somehow, suffering is redemptive. And we get to know this through Christ. Our brokenness unites us with Christ, for Jesus is with us and knows suffering. Just like the Eucharistic prayers say, Christ is blessed, broken and shared. This is the Bread of Life that nourishes us, strengthens us.
We are also blessed, broken and shared through Christ, in community. Let us lean on each other and unite and heal. Let us open up to the graces only found in Jesus for the True freedom and peace that comes with trusting the mystery that our brokenness is truly a blessing. Soon we’ll be rejoicing with hope and joy, for we trust that Jesus is our redeemer. Yes, this coming Sunday is Palm Sunday, and we’re getting very closer to the celebrations of salvation on Easter Sunday.
As we lift up our voices and wave our palms, let us really cry out to Jesus in gratitude for the freedom that is offered:
I recently came across this video and thought that it was profound and worth sharing. I haven’t read the book that it features, so I am not necessarily endorsing it or anything. I simply believe that the video fits with the spirit of Messy Jesus Business and our journey through Lent. Plus, it’s beautiful.
For me today, the togetherness of our brokenness is very important. I am never alone, I can’t be.
We’re all broken- and mended- together. Healing and redemption can only be communal. Together we are transformed. Wow. May God bless us, together. Amen.