church for the broken

I used to think what brought a church together was a communal belief system. We gather on Sundays for worship because we can recite the same prayers and creed. To some extent it is cultural, but also choice.

Now, I think what brings people together to "be church" is a common brokenness. A shared sense of emptiness, a recognition of the hurt in our world, and a hope for something better. As I get to know the people in my church, we do not all ascribe to the same beliefs. The diversity among us is a blessing, actually. Our diverse religious backgrounds and beliefs keep the conversation active and fun. What we share in common is our experience of the brokenness in ourselves and in the world around us. As we come together, we find hope in God and in one another for a world beyond our human experience. One in which healing, reconciliation, justice, peace and love are all possible. Wholeness made a reality.

At first it sounded bizarre to claim that our church was a place for the broken and yet as I think about Jesus on the cross.... brokenness is a huge part of our faith story. It is from this common place of brokenness that new life emerges - resurrection is made possible. Hope again feels real.

Hope

"We are to hope...that's what we do as Christians. We hope."

These words were spoken to me during a time when I feared for the safety of a friend. They're a good reminder to me still that this is what I am to do as a Christian. I hope.

In times of chaos and violence and great despair... I hope for a better tomorrow.

As I reflect on the violence experienced this year alone - the bombing in Boston on Monday, the shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary, the threats of North Korea, not to mention the local violence on the daily news - it seems hard to hope that we are progressing as a people to a more peaceful day. It seems more evident that we are growing more violent toward each other instead.

Yet, I am to hope.

Why? Not because that is the only thing to do. In fact, I think it is easier to be cynical and despair.

I hope because of who I am. My identity as a child of God - a believer in God - means that I trust (some days more than others) that God is more powerful than hate and violence. I hope because I know and trust that someday violence won't have the last word.

That's really what the Easter story is about... Death doesn't have the final word. Murder, lynchings, flogging, bullying...none of those violent actions won out. God did. Resurrection did. New life does, today.

It's not easy to be hopeful, especially when each new day brings a reason (or five) to despair. But, it is what we are called to do. It is who we are to be. People of faith. People of hope.

I wonder - engage me if you will - what church communities can do to foster better communication, peaceful ways of living together, more love. How can we speak out against violence? How do we preach (in word and action) love instead of hate?

Please post your thoughts...