The world is broken.
This seems obvious these days. We are experiencing a global pandemic, complete with ever-changing guidance on the best ways to protect ourselves and our communities. As part of that response, there is massive unemployment and broad job insecurity. In the past weeks, there have been national examples of suspected murders of African-American men highlighting the ongoing white supremacy in this country. This week there have been massive protests and demonstrations, ostensibly in response to a recent police shooting of an unarmed man, but likely a response to all of this. Some have used these demonstrations as an excuse for looting, arson, and violence.
The world is broken.
I imagine there is almost universal agreement on these four words. Almost no one is walking around smiling and thinking to themselves, "I am so glad these things are happening." The disagreements arise when we start talking about how to fix the brokenness.
In part, this is because there is not universal agreement on what is broken. If we cannot find consensus on what is broken, we can't possibly begin to repair the brokenness.
In part, this is because, after we find some common ground about the brokenness, there are many competing solutions to address it. It is difficult to achieve something if there are groups of us trying to go in different directions at once.
In part, this is because we usually consider what is broken and how to fix it within our personal experiences of loss and our hopes and fears of how possible changes will affect us. Altruism is a wonderful goal in the face of large problems, but our responses are rarely selfless.
The world is broken... because we are broken.
Such a statement can lead to many objections. I didn't create a virus. I didn't kill anyone. I'm not a racist. It's not my fault. I want to fix these problems. Don't blame me.
The Christian faith teaches differently. "All have sinned," writes the Apostle Paul more than once in letters preserved in the New Testament. We all have caused the brokenness of the world. We all help to continue the brokenness in the world. We all continue to break things in this world.
If we cannot agree on what is broken, we cannot begin to fix it. And we are broken. This is fundamental teaching for Christians. Yes, the world is filled with injustice and unmerited suffering. Yes, you have received things you did not deserve, "the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune," in the words Shakespeare placed in Hamlet's mouth. And still, you are part of the world's brokenness. You and I are each part of the problem.
We are broken.
Sin is corrupting and corrosive, damaging everything and everyone it touches. In our brokenness, we hurt others, sometimes intentionally and sometimes unintentionally. Usually, there are ripples of negative effects. Our sinfulness never has the accuracy of a laser-guided missile. There is always collateral damage, hurting many people in ways we never intended, often in ways we never imagined. To point out the most obvious example: even when we aim to hurt others, we hurt ourselves.
This is part of the reason why our Christian tradition, evident in Jesus' words but stretching into Jewish teaching, emphasizes the need to atone for our sins. We need to recognize our mistakes and our misdeeds and the damage that our actions -- or, in some cases, our inaction -- have led to suffering for others and for ourselves. Only when we are willing to look at our own brokenness can we begin to understand the depth of brokenness in the world.
We are broken... because the world is broken.
The doctrine of original sin strikes me as preposterous, particularly in the suggestion that at the moment of birth each precious child of God sins and adds to the brokenness of the world. However, what is obvious is that the collection of sins and brokenness in the world creates a web which ensnares each of us, making it impossible for us not to sin.
Sometimes we are hurt by the brokenness of the world and lash out in our pain, causing more pain. Sometimes we are oblivious to the brokenness of the world and do nothing to stop it or change it. Sometimes we are helped by the brokenness of the world, and we become complicit in maintaining it for our own benefit.
We are broken.
This teaching is uncomfortable. We don't want to admit our shortcomings. And we are confident that, whatever our culpability, other people bear exponentially more blame and responsibility than we do for the brokenness we see in the world.
This teaching feels irrelevant. How can admitting our sins possibly address a global pandemic or bring an end to systemic racism? We need to stop wasting time and focus on finding solutions to these urgent problems, rather than playing theological games.
Yet, if we do not recognize the scope of the problem, we cannot fix it. If we do not begin to see some of our own brokenness, we cannot hope to offer healing. We will simply be looking for solutions to the symptoms that grab our attention, rather than seeking to heal the underlying diseases.
When asked, Jesus recognized the brokenness of the world. How could he not? He admitted the injustices and inequities of the world, knowing the suffering they caused -- and still cause -- for so many. His ministry, though, was focused on individuals, healing sickness, inviting repentance, and highlighting the presence of God in their midst. These actions could bring healing in their own lives and empower them to bring healing to the broken world around them.
There is healing.
This is the good news of God across time and place. The point of admitting our brokenness is not to wallow in guilt. The point of admitting our brokenness is not to leave us helpless in the face of pain and suffering. The point of admitting our brokenness, and the brokenness of the entire world, is not to imagine a problem too big to be addressed.
The point of admitting our brokenness is to begin to recognize the specific things that need to change in our lives. Only by admitting our own hurt can we grow in ways that we stop lashing out in pain. Only by broadening our appreciation of the lives and struggles of others can we end our ambivalence to their pain. Only by seeing our own complicity in unjust structures can we end such complicity and work to dismantle those systems and end the cycles of pain their create.
There is healing... for those willing to change.
Christian faith reveals to us that God is love. God's creation of the universe and continuing relationship with the universe is rooted in love. It is a love that breathed life into each of us and that values each of us, despite our mistakes and brokenness. It is a love so deep that God seeks to heal the brokenness in each of us. As I've heard it said more succinctly, God loves you just the way you are and loves you too much to let you stay that way.
The pervasive teaching of Jesus, though, is that we must be willing to accept God's healing. We must admit that we need help. We must admit that we are not perfect just the way we are. We must be willing to listen. Sometimes God speaks directly, often through the words of the Bible. Sometimes God speaks to us through the words and actions of others.
There is healing... for those willing to change.
This may be the deepest part of our struggle with the brokenness of the world. So many of us simply refuse to consider either our own shortcomings or the potential wisdom of others. This is especially true if the others seem different, are of different age, background, education, gender, ethnicity, political persuasion, or anything else, from us. So many of us listen to other voices telling us how right we are... and ignore, or even mock, anything that suggests otherwise.
Personally, this is the most heart-breaking part of the many public demonstrations and protests around the country in recent days. How many people are truly willing to listen to different points of view? How many people are willing to patiently listen to someone share their radically different experiences of life in this country -- without jumping to conclusions or starting an argument? With so much anger and anxiety in our midst, is it even possible for people to truly listen? And if the answer is no, what then?
In the face of such doubts, I remember the example of Jesus and the sacrifice of Jesus. When most Christians speak of Jesus' sacrifice, we refer to his crucifixion. As I grow in faith, though, I think this is too simplistic. Jesus was surrounded by brokenness in every moment of his life -- a corrupted economy, hypocritical religious teaching, questionable social structure, and a pervasive faithlessness. Perhaps even more frustrating, even the people who seemed most interested in what he taught seemed pathologically incapable of actually learning what Jesus was trying to teach them.
Patiently and faithfully, in word and deed, Jesus kept repeating. God is here. There is love and healing. Admit your mistakes. Follow me into a new way of life.
There is healing... through those who are being healed.
Those who repent do not simply welcome healing in their own lives. Through faith, and I presume the presence of the Holy Spirit, they become empowered to bring healing to others around them.
In some ways, this is the most unexpected part of Jesus' teaching. After a very short time, Jesus asks his disciples to go out and serve in his name. Teach about the nature of God. Cure the sick. Cast out the demons. Raise the dead. Then, they are to come back, share their experiences, learn some more, and, presumably, go out and serve again.
As they are being healed of their brokenness -- and even before they recognize and repent of all of it -- Christians can bring healing into the lives of others. In Jesus' eyes, we can do more than we might imagine.
There is healing... through those who are being healed.
But our power comes not in our strength of judgment, but in our humility. The power to heal does not come with wonder-working medicine, but with the timeless truth that we need to change and we can change. We are broken, and we can be healed.
There is a lesson here from Jesus' Sermon on the Mount, recorded in the beginning of Matthew 7. Judge not, lest you be judged. Remove the spot from your own eye before you try to remove it from someone else's eye. Our ability to be healed and to offer healing to this broken world starts not with identifying the problems of others, but admitting our own.
Perhaps, though, it is sufficient to cite a more modern scripture, the hymn, "Amazing Grace": "I once was blind, but now I see." Only after former slave ship captain John Newton repented his personal brokenness and complicity and began a new way of life could he offer these treasured words of faith and healing, a source of comfort and inspiration to so many people over the past three centuries.
There is healing... for our broken world.
Even during these fractious days, God is with us and God's healing love is available. In the midst of fear and violence these past several weeks, there have been people offering glimpses of this love and healing. "Some Good News" grew from a brainchild to offer hope through online videos for those separated by loved ones into something CBS wants to develop as a permanent part of their media empire. There have been viral moments when police officers, who are seeking to keep peace during protests over alleged police violence, have hugged, held hands with, spoken with, and marched with those demonstrating.
I'm pretty sure that all of these people still have brokenness in their lives, some of which they recognize and some of which they do not. They have not allowed their brokenness to limit them, though. Instead, with humility, they have found moments to listen to others different from themselves. Through their listening, not only have their lives been touched, but so have the lives of others who have witnessed healing and hope through their examples.
The hard truth is that this healing takes time and patience. If those who identify racism as America's original sin are correct, this particular brokenness has been with us for over 400 years. Concrete efforts to address it -- or at least to address the sin of slavery -- began over 300 years ago. Progress has been made, as more people have recognized this particular brokenness and repented. More progress will be made if and when these admissions of guilt and complicity continue. (An even harder truth is that there probably are broad sins in the American culture that few of us recognize, whose healing lies for the generations to come.)
We can help heal our broken world.
The challenge, though, is we must dispense with the cultural lie that solutions come from those with all of the answers. The challenge, though, is we must dispense with the cultural lie that wisdom comes from shouting the loudest, having a certain job title, or knowing that God is on our side (alone).
We must have confidence and humility. We must be bold to see the world through the eyes of faith, daring to identify the injustices we see and experience, especially when they pose mortal threats to neighbors in our community. We must go so far as to seek out and name our own brokenness, in what we have done and what we have left undone. Then, after experiencing a bit of God's gracious healing, we might risk discovering more of our own brokenness by listening to the stories and struggles of others around us, seeking foremost to learn from them, not to save them.
Then we can more faithfully live out our mission as followers of Jesus in these tumultuous times. We must repent. We must listen. We must love. We must change. We must do all of it, to the extent we can, with God's gracious and faithful help.
The world is broken. We are broken.
There is healing... through those who are being healed.
As Jesus taught those who listened to his parables: Let those with ears to hear, hear.
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