I have been contemplating brokenness and suffering and where the Christian faith fits into all of it.
I think that I have come to the conclusion that brokenness and dysfunction is not necessarily the same thing.
Being broken can lead to forms of dysfunction. But being broken does not automatically mean that you are dysfunctional. You are not deficient. You are not written off. You are not a broken object. Don’t let anyone convince you to believe that.
When Christ redeemed humanity, he did it through the embracing becoming broken. When it seemed that he was a broken object to be discarded, that is when he came through with his greatest miracle. The miracle of restored relationship with God.
Vulnerability in our brokenness leads to connection.
We try to seem solid and whole to those around us, as though our worth were measured that way. If we are perceived to be fragile and cracked, we may be considered less valuable. But you are not a broken toy – who no longer provides enjoyment to the child and will be thrown out in the trash.
You are a person made in the image of God. This is a God who allowed himself to become lowly and broken, and not only that. He allowed himself to be put on public display so that all could see him at his worst. What kind of God is this? Who would chose to do this?
I want to be careful that I do not romanticize brokenness and suffering, pain and grief. What I do want to do is bring balance to our theology. I am considering what a theology of brokenness and suffering would like intermingled with Kingdom theology. Right now that looks like walking through the valley and learning to breathe in God through the ache.
Our faith is multidimensional in its expression. We can dance. We can weep. We can be filled with joy and celebration. We can be filled with indignation and anger at injustice. There is a time to be at peace. There is also a time to fight. There are times for resting and the there are times to take hold of something by force. I am convinced that there are still situations when old school spiritual warfare is required. We can snuggle into the arms of a heavenly daddy. And can also be brought low to the ground with the realization that our God ‘is an all consuming fire’.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 declares that:
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
2 a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
3 a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
4 a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
5 a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
6 a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
7 a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
8 a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.
There is more than one way to measure a person’s faith (if you are that way inclined). Joy is not the only scale by which we weigh our spirituality. I do love joy. I do enjoy feeling warm and squishy inside. Who doesn’t?
But there must be space for people to be allowed to be broken, without timelines by which they must achieve ‘wholeness’. We see the brokenness of Christ through the brokenness of people. By sitting with people in their pain, we have the opportunity to commune with the divine. But how often do we miss Jesus in front of us (or within us), because we just wanted them (or ourselves) to pull themselves together and be normal? We’re so busy trying to get things done that we missed Imago Dei standing right in front of us. We don’t want the dove to pass us by to find somewhere safer to settle.
I don’t want to be like the old Pharisees who missed Christ because he didn’t come the in way they assumed that he would. They wanted a victorious God who would sweep in and destroy their enemies with a great smiting. They were looking above to a great king who would raise them up, enthroned beside him, that they missed the messiah bending low to kiss the feet of the poor and the forgotten.
Two thousand years later and we haven’t changed much. Our technology has marched onwards and evolved beyond their wildest dreams. But our hearts have crawled forward like a trickle.
We still look to the stage, the screen, and the pedestal for our inspiration. We compare ourselves to the people who appear to be doing better than us: More successful than us. Wealthier than us. Performing better than us. Who have more prestige than us. What a good follower of Christ that person is! They show the Kingdom!
People experiencing brokenness are not always considered very useful for getting things done. Usefulness may be the way to measure the worth of an object, but not a person.
If you are feeling a little broken, a little fragile. Don’t despair. And definitely don’t try to force yourself into being more happy and whole. Mental health professionals are finding that you can potentially harm yourself more by attempting to bypass and/or shut down those unpleasant emotions.
You’re allowed to feel that way. It’s called being human. And strangely enough, it’s also called being made in the image of God.
This writer draws the issue of brokeness into the light where value is discovered. Where our propensity for performance judgements are challenged (if we open our minds enough) and where our religiosity is offered redemption.