"Broken and Blessed!"
Sermon Presented March 4, 2007
Genesis 32:22-32
SECOND SUNDAY OF LENT
When I was asked to preach on the topic of brokenness, many causes for brokenness popped into my mind - things like failing health, forced change, broken relationships, job loss, death of a loved one, unforgiveness, war, divorce, fears, addictions, bankruptcy, suffering, clinical depression, violence and loss of self-esteem. I went to Webster and found that the first definition of broken is "violently separated into parts - i.e. shattered." To be broken is more than chipped or cracked; it's to be separated into so many pieces that it's impossible for the pieces to come back together without the repair being noticeable. To be broken is like being alone in a dark wood without a discernible path.
People who are broken often disconnect from others - ones they were previously close to. They even separate from God, because old concepts of God no longer satisfy. If God's essential nature is to love, why did God allow this to happen? I think you know what I'm talking about.
Sometimes our brokenness is self-inflicted and other times not. Sometimes we become broken because of our sin, but more frequently it comes because of what life deals us. Sometimes we have a sense of hope in our broken condition, but most of the time we are overwhelmed by hopelessness.
People deal with brokenness differently. Sally and Jim had had a tumultuous 40 years of marriage when Sally was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. She had surgery and the surgeon said it was the first surgery for pancreatic cancer he had ever performed where the cancer was enclosed in a sac that could be easily removed. There was no cancer in the surrounding tissue, and the couple was elated. The tragedy brought them closer together.
Soon after that, Jim, a heavy smoker, learned that he had lung cancer. There was nothing medically that could be done for him and Hospice was called in. About that time Sally's cancer returned and she began multiple treatment programs to fight the cancer. Jim was at peace, and preparing for a dignified end of life, but Sally was fighting with all of her energy to survive.
During this time, the extended family fell apart. Three of their four children rallied around Jim - who went to live with one of them. Only one daughter was available to help Sally. In her brokenness, Sally demanded more from her children, only to have her demands fall on deaf ears. Jim died first - at peace with himself and the world. Sally died several months later, miserable and broken. Both Jim and Sally were ravaged by cancer, but they chose to face their brokenness differently. One was at peace; the other became alienated.
I would like to read a biblical story of brokenness. It's the story of Jacob and his experience at the River Jabbok where he wrestles with God. Jacob brings lots of baggage to this encounter. He has cheated his brother of his blessing; he is married to sisters - one whom he loves and the other he doesn't; and he has just left his father-in-law with a desire to make peace with his estranged brother. After sending his family and livestock across the river, Jacob remains and has an encounter with God. Genesis 32:22-32. (Read text.)
When Jacob leaves this encounter to join his family on the other side of the river, he bears both a limp and a blessing! He carries a sign of his brokenness with him, but he also moves forward under the blessing and authority of God. He isn't the same person as he had been 12 hours previously. Like Jacob, we don't emerge from our struggles exactly as we were before.
Recently I read the story of an accident that occurred during construction of the Royal Palace in Tehran, Iran. The architects sent to Paris for mirrors to cover the walls of the magnificent entrance, but when the crates were opened, broken pieces spilled out. The architects were devastated, but a creative mosaic artist said: "Let's use them as they are." The artist then fit the pieces together into an abstract mosaic, and now the palace walls sparkle in a rainbow of reflected color. Although the mirrors were broken, they became a work of art.
Benjamin Blech, a rabbi in Oceanside, NY was quoted first in The New York Times and then by May Sarton in her journal as saying: "What I mourn in our age is the unnatural contempt for natural manifestations of emotion…. And that's why I am not ashamed to admit that whenever I see models of self-control, I weep for them" (p. 32). When in a state of brokenness, we need to express our feelings of grief, anger and pain through words and tears in safe places, with safe people. It's part of the healing process!
Joan Chittister writes in her book Scarred by Struggle, Transformed by Hope, that dealing with life changes requires "a spirituality of struggle that owns the pain but also comes to grips with each of its dimensions, with all of its demands. The spirituality of struggle is a process. It is a catalyst and a series of gifts without which we cannot possibly become fully ourselves" (p. 16).
When in a state of brokenness, we must open our hearts to the grace of new possibilities. After allowing time to blame God, we can then ask God to companion us, guiding us to new life by opening our eyes to new possibility. The longer we resist change, the more difficult the struggle. Surrender is the moment in which we realize it is time to become someone new. Surrender isn't about giving up, it's about moving on.
Those who have dealt with the death of a loved one, divorce, treatment for a potentially fatal disease, recovery from a serious accident, abuse, or a transition to a new location know the difficulty of moving on, and yet that move is necessary for our mental, physical, and spiritual well-being. My heart goes out to the service men and women returning from combat zones with broken bodies, minds, hearts and often marriages, knowing that nothing will ever be the same as before the war. It's difficult to be handicapped in a culture that worships youth, beauty, and physical prowess. We are all limited to some extent, and we must work with our limitations and our imperfections, trusting in God and others to guide us through our brokenness to the blessing on the other side.
Another source of help in our brokenness is to activate a sense of humor. Our next book club selection is Suzy Becker's memoir: I Had Brain Surgery; What's Your Excuse? Becker used humor as a technique for dealing with her diminished brain power following the surgery. As a writer and illustrator, her cognitive skills were crucial to her profession. Her humor, coupled with her fierce determination helped her move from her broken state to a successful book that helps others in similar situations. Humor helps us to move from brokenness.
Another resource for emerging from brokenness is prayer. Prayer reminds us that God is with us in our darkness. If you have no words for prayer, use a printed prayer such as one of the lament psalms. They are plentiful. During our times of struggle, it's important to keep the lines of communication with God open.
The church should be a place for broken people to heal, but sadly that isn't always the case. I recently read a moving fictitious journal of an Alzheimer's patient. This is one entry:
"Day 26 - Dear God, I've witnessed how demented people are treated by their congregations and have decided not to go to church anymore. Remember when Mrs. Kay started singing with the soloist during the offertory hymn? Everyone looked at her with a frown and let her husband know in no uncertain terms that he should take her home. They've never come back. I bumped into Mr. Kay at the grocery a while back and he said he's never even been contacted by the minister (who is probably relieved that she doesn't have to deal with any more surprise outburst). And a number of years ago I had a chilling conversation with a pastor whose father had dementia. We were talking about Communion at the time and he said that he had stopped giving his father the Eucharist because the man no longer understood the meaning of what he was doing. Dear God, am I going to lose your physical presence as well? Have I ever fully understood what I was doing when I received at your table? I doubt it. Does anyone?" (Weavings XV: 2; pp. 34, 35)
Historically, Christians have spent too much time fighting over doctrine - with those who believe differently labeled aggressor, heretic, or enemy of God, and not enough time ministering to the broken in the fellowship. Church splits and denomination splits illustrate that unity in the Spirit of God is not as important to Christians as war with one another. When the church is broken, it's easier to separate than to work for unity. It takes effort to heal a state of brokenness. It takes effort to love one another.
Joan Chittister wrote that "It is not the struggle itself that kills us. It is allowing ourselves to stay locked in mortal combat with it. The refusal to move on in life to where God waits for us with new love for new times breeds a desperation mired in a bog of denial. But desperation is meant to be a fuel, not an oppressive force that binds us to yesterday forever. Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Desperation drives us to endure what we cannot change in order to become what we are next meant to be" (Ibid. 72).
Henri Nouwen, in his book The Wounded Healer writes that it's important for those who have overcome to not become prideful at their accomplishments, but instead, to become vulnerable so that they can help others in their brokenness. We need to allow our struggles to acquire the maximum value for others. To Nouwen, the great illusion of leadership is to think that people can be led out of the desert by someone who has never been there.
After we have made it through the struggles that brought us to our broken state, we can begin to see the blessings that have occurred from these struggles. Two weeks ago, Andrew Kimmel, a numismatist whose business is buying and selling rare coins was our Rotary speaker. The first rule of coin collecting is to never polish a coin! He told of a woman who brought him a canvas bag filled with 1000 silver dollars - coins that had been in that bag since they were purchased new. These coins had never been circulated, and those in the center of the bag were shiny. But the coins that had rested against the canvas bag for more than a hundred years had oxidized, taking color onto their surfaces - orange, yellow, bright blue and red. The rare beauty of these coins is in their color, giving them added value.
Each of us has flaws. We have all had great struggles, rubbing up against the constraints of life. However, when we allow our own imperfections - our own humanity to shine forth, we become more beautiful to others. Kimmel recently bid successfully on a coin collection, that cost him less than $3000 instead of the $40,000 it would have brought had the owner not polished the coins. His comment: "You can't strip the soul off the coins!" We are beautiful because of what we've rubbed up against - because of the tarnish on our lives. We are blessed because of our brokenness.
