Along with beauty, brokenness isn’t spoken of much either.
We’ll talk about it conceptually or in generalities, but the closer we get to specifics, the quicker we seem to want out of the conversation.
People with physical disabilities have always struck a strange chord with me. Their brokenness is so blatant and transparent for everyone to see.
Do they wish people addressed their obvious brokenness? Are they tired of people feeling sorry for them? Do they feel a nagging sense of being robbed of base level human attributes?
And then I see photos like this from the paralympics…
People competing and pursuing dreams despite their conditions…
Would you say they’re any less human? Are their lives any less fulfilling?
And just because they’ve overcome some challenges, it’s not like they are without their continued struggles, hurts, and failures
And then there’s moments of overwhelming beauty
These photos make you think twice the next time you say “I can’t…” don’t they?
Maybe life’s not about how you start the race, or even the massive stumbles along the way, but about what you do with it all, and how you finish.
Some things might be undeniably broken, but it doesn’t always have to be that way.
Have you ever opened the holy scriptures looking for wisdom and something just doesn’t sit right?
Sometimes it’s because it’s exposing some deep uncomfortable truth within ourselves.
Other times, the ‘holy word’ seems flat out wrong.
For example I’ve been preaching through Nehemiah verse by verse over the past year, and while it’s an extraordinary book, it ends on a disappointing thud. Not only because the people of God have abandoned all they worked so hard for, but the human hero of the story, Nehemiah, was a let down in the end as well.
Nehemiah is brash and violent in the last chapter. He attempts to restore order through tearing some families apart and literally giving some men a beating while pulling their hair out (Mark Driscoll calls it a ’scalping’ as if it was cool, but that’s another story). My NIV Men’s edition bible tries to redeem the end of this part of the story commenting on how Nehemiah was courageous in the end confronting sin.
I understand Nehemiah’s good intentions, but I disagree with how he handled the situation. You could call it sinful.
Are there passages in Scripture you personally disagree with? (I can think of plenty).
And what do you do about it?
Some folks like Brian Mclaren might argue we’re simply listening in on a collection of stories in human history, some emphasize Christ as hero, then there’s interpretative techniques like context, word analysis, descriptive vs prescriptive readings of the text… but still.
Are there particular moments where the Scriptures leave you hanging, unsatisfied, and shaking your head?
I grabbed a late night bite with Mr. Broken-but-usable JD yesterday. The jerk called me a lone ranger.
About fifteen years ago when I first entered the doors of a church I was called a lone ranger as well.
Trying to not look stupid, I rarely talked to anybody about my spiritual journey. On my own I read through the Bible, the Koran, Buddhist texts, and other philosophical books. I was desperately trying to figure it out on my own. Yes, cue in Celine Dion’s All by myself.
Fast forward to today, and I’m all about community development.
Whether it’s within the church, or in neighborhoods, or even virtually, everything I think and do ties back to connecting people and cultivating community. Problem is, I still lack it on some level.
I meet with lots of folks and I’m involved in many groups, but community still seems elusive to me.
It could be because I have an over-idealized image of what it looks like.
It could be my social tick that causes me to either only lead in group settings or be completely disengaged (which I’ve read is common if you’re an only-child – a term which I thought was ‘lonely-child’ growing up, but that’s another story). Now that I think about it, I’ve seen this in quite a number of ‘ministers’. Passionate when we’re leading, just screwing around in the back when we’re not (my past ten small groups can attest to this on my behalf)
It could be that I just flat out haven’t made the effort.
What do you think?
Is there some neurotic place within me that thinks everyone deserves community but me?
Do I secretly despise people?
Is it because I wear the same jeans multiple times before washing them?
JD fears with all that I do I’m going to crash and burn. Somebody save me.
I’m such a jerk. I’ve been sponsoring a child for the past couple years and after several handwritten letters to me, only today have I finally got around to emailing her back.
It’s absolutely ridiculous. It’s easier for someone of my piddly income to fork over cash each month, than simply write a personal letter of compassion.
The problem with financial support is when it ends there. Sure, a child gets needed funding and I feel slightly absolved of my guilt. But when child sponsorship organizations like world vision get reduced to a distribution center, we get the illusion that everyone connects and gets what they need… but is anyone truly transformed?
Anyhow, here’s my open letter to this child I ought to be loving on…
Dear Uwayisaba,
Thank you so much for your past letters! I need to start by sincerely apologizing for taking so long to write back to you. We have a photo of you up on our wall and think about you often. However, it’s silly how busy our lives can get here in Toronto. It is so easy for us to get caught up in things that aren’t meaningful and forget what’s truly meaningful.
Your life is meaningful. We believe your struggles and your hopes are meaningful to this world we share as well. We have a daughter who’s a bit younger than you, and she reminds us everyday how every single life is precious and sacred. Once she learns to write we really hope that she can write to you herself as well.
I know that God is working in your life and ours, and we look forward to hearing more about you, your school, and your family.
With love
Anyhow, I know every one of you can do better than I have. I’m currently partnered with Food for the Hungry, I hear great things about Compassion as well.
Below is a recent video from the Catalyst conference of a child meeting their sponsor after 19 years. The sharing starts around the 3 minute mark.
Continuing the series of posts on U2 songs, “City of Blinding Lights” is also a favorite. It’s musically reminiscent of “Where the streets have no name” with a brilliant intro.
I think I heard Barack Obama use it as his entrance music a number of times during the campaign.
As with many u2 songs there are a number of conflicting images in the song.
A couple of simple repeated lines throughout the song, make me go hrm…
Oh you look so beautiful tonight In the city of blinding lights
Can you see the beauty inside of me? What happened to the beauty I had inside of me?
For some reason it makes me think of an old story I heard originally by H.G. Wells called Country of the Blind. (Doing some research on it, I realize there’s several renditions of it, below is a summary strictly from my own twisted memory).
There once was a remote city struck with a disease that caused complete blindness of all it’s inhabitants and it’s descendants.
The people eventually adapted to life being blind. It became so normal that the very concept of sight was all but forgotten after several generations had passed.
A man with perfect vision stumbles into the city. His heart breaks because he realizes an entire people group have no idea of the colors and beauty that surround them as they feel their way through the dark.
He commits himself to sharing this wonderful gift of vision he has with the people of the city.
He befriends the people and begins describing to them textures, and tints, and things in the distance. He points out beautiful features on their faces, the blues across the skies, and the yellowness of the sun.
But the people of the city think he’s gone mad as they are unable to comprehend what the man is passionately illustrating.
Having compassion, the people of the city take hold of the man, to help cure him of his illness.
And they gouge out his eyes.
I wonder if this man would be singing “Can you see the beauty inside of me? What happened to the beauty I had inside of me? ”
Ever been there? Had a spark of hope that no one understood? Saw something that was so overwhelmingly beautiful that you couldn’t put words to it, but you tried to share it anyways? Only to then have them crush it and rip it from your soul?
Without a doubt my favorite U2 album of all time remains Achtung Baby. It’s gritty layers went really well with my early teenage angst years.
A completely underrated song in the Album is Acrobat.
Here’s a snippet:
No, nothing makes sense Nothing seems to fit I know you’d hit out If you only knew who to hit And I’d join the movement If there was one I could believe in Yeah I’d break bread and wine If there was a church I could receive in ‘Cause I need it now
To take the cup To fill it up To drink it slow I can’t let you go I must be an acrobat To talk like this And act like that And you can dream So dream out loud And don’t let the bastards grind you down
As a teenager it had everything to do with hating ‘the system’, and oscillating between not wanting to exist while wanting to belong.
These days the problem’s a bit more internal.
Now I’m part of the church, that has problems receiving people.
Worst yet, I’ve got a preaching gig. And no one talks one way and acts another way more than the preacher. Yes, preacher’s aren’t perfect, and we share our struggles. But that dreaded Book keeps making us call people to Christ-likeness.
Every day I’m confronted by my own hypocrisy. Grace just rubs it in further.
The Nidus Festival – a faith, arts, and justice festival I was helping organize, collapsed due to a lack of financing – though I suspect there were other underlying issues.
My love/hate relationship for sermons continued, as I attended a conference in michigan that was actually decent.
Some circumstances caused my extended family to get slammed emotionally.
My condominium board, which I’m a director of had a pending law suit against it due to some decisions we made. Things are patched up now.
Both my wife and I had bouts of sickness and exhaustion.
Support came from unexpected places.
I had hopes set on helping organize a Toronto TED conference, which somehow fizzled out. I might just run my own or something similar next year.
After leaving the IT industry for a number of years, I spent a strange amount of time reading up on web development, seo, php, css, and design.
The most beautiful part of the summer was family (yes, that’s my little girl with a rib in her mouth). Every day was daddy-daughter day. I had her to myself every morning, I’d show her the world and have her brought back in time for a bite and a nap. I hope she remembers all of this.
My wife and I ate out together plenty as we decided to save a bit of cash and staycation this year. I watched her excitement for photography grow, and her passions always help fuel my passions.
On the flip-side I struggled with being fully present with family while being antsy to be productive at the same time. It’s been an ongoing battle to simply let things slide, and not tie my personal sense of worth with having to ‘accomplish’ things.
In some ways I felt like I was dreaming bigger but falling harder. So many things didn’t work out, and other projects that remain alive seem to be hobbling along. Sometimes, I get the sense that people expect me to continually have new tricks up my sleeve. Well, I’m still working on the same stuff, and no, there’s nothing much new.
I’m slowly finding my way again, who knows where it’ll lead though.
brokenness isn’t spoken of much either.
