"Everything has a crack in it."

The means of grace, and the hope of glory

It’s the First Sunday of Lent, and this coming Wednesday, we’ll resume our weekly gatherings via Zoom, practicing silence and cultivating the stillness that opens us to the Divine in creation and in all people.  All are welcome. Click this link to join – no experience necessary.

More and more people are discovering meditation, mindfulness, yoga, tai chi, and other contemplative practices. In a sometimes chaotic and violent world, regularly collecting ourselves in the expansive beauty of holiness can be healing and restorative. But a regular practice can also bring disturbances, as repressed wounds, sins, and failings begin to surface in awareness. Instead of peace, we can become overwhelmed with shame, guilt, or anxiety. 

Yet, St. Paul says this remarkable thing in his letter to the Romans. “Where sin increased,” he writes, “grace abounded all the more.” (5:20) And just after he’s written that, Paul knows that some snarky person is going to respond, “So, should we just keep on sinning so that grace will abound all the more?” (6:1)  Paul basically says, Don’t be ridiculous. Once you’ve known the pain your injury caused, you don’t willingly repeat it. God is in you now, you’re not going to keep sinning on purpose!

I’ve often used a biological analogy to illustrate what Paul is saying. Imagine your body is wounded or a cut. Immediately, white blood cells rush to the sight of injury to begin their protecting and healing work. So it is with the Divine: God doesn’t punish a child who has been injured. Instead, God rushes in only to love, embrace, and heal.

Jesus said something similar. “Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for bread, you will give a stone? Or if they ask for a fish, you will give a snake? If you know how to love and care for your children, how much more will God care for you?” (Mt 7)

Catherine of Sienna (1347-1380) heard God say to her, “My mercy is incomparably greater than all the sins that have ever been committed in the world.” No one should ever despair, God told Catherine. Mercy and healing—this is what I do. 

Or, as Leonard Cohen put it, “Everything has a crack in it. That’s how the light gets in.” 

Everyone is broken in some way, and everyone knows the deep pain of that brokenness. But that’s also how the light and healing love of God get in. Everyone is fragile, everyone makes terrible mistakes, sometimes willful ones. But thanks to the cracks in everyone, thanks to our brokenness, we’re also shining with a healing light.

Paradoxically, our brokenness reveals “the means of grace and the hope of glory.” (General Thanksgiving, Book of Common Prayer, p. 101). So, do not judge, Jesus said. Rather, be gentle and careful with each other, love and heal each other, as I love and heal you, through your brokenness.

I’m looking forward to our weekly gatherings again, cultivating stillness and practicing silence as a way of opening ourselves to this ever-present, ever-loving, and ever-healing Source of Life. Bring a friend.