Light Where There Is Darkness

We have the ability to choose our attitude even in the worst moments of life. This truth was affirmed by Viktor Frankl who suffered interment at Auschwitz and other concentration camps. He lost his wife and parents while a prisoner in these places yet he found that the ‘salvation of man is through love and in love’. Viktor reached this conclusion, in part, by experiencing other prisoners who would walk through the barracks giving up their last piece of bread and offering kind words and hope. This powerful testimony to love helped him survive that which was practically unsurvivable.  Dr. Frankl became a renowned psychiatrist and author of at least 32 books (among them "Man's Search For Meaning").

We are given sparkling little glimmers of unselfish love and grace in everyday life as well. My dear life-long friend lost his father this week. Harry Cox was a great guy.  He was a high school and college track star whose records still stand.  More importantly, he was delightful company with a ready laugh, humble heart and gracious spirit.  There was no long suffering illness that had preceded his death and it was certainly unexpected. I called his son, my friend Gary, to offer the comfort of our friendship and to connect with him in his time of need. It was not long into our conversation that Gary began to tell me stories about my own father and mother and how grateful he was for their love and kindness. He talked about how welcomed he felt in our home and how much this meant to him.  He recounted the powerful impact of their generosity.  I suddenly realized that this wonderful friend was actually consoling me. He was sharing the joys of our childhood and ministering with compassion even at his own hour of deep personal grief.

This choice of attitude is not an acquired behavior or ‘second nature’ but rather comes from a broken heart that remains unselfish and called to love. It demonstrates that brokenness is the common bond. It is from our brokenness that we can offer hope. Gary’s closing words on the phone to me were “You are a blessing.” May we all find ways to share such light in the darkness.

Holy Thursday and Brokenness

The Savior of Zvenigorod

The Savior of Zvenigorod, an icon painted by Andrei Rublev sometime in the early fifteenth century, has been a great source of meditation for people over the centuries.  Henri Nouwen, the catholic scholar, priest, activist and author, wrote about it in his book "Behold the Beauty of the Lord" about twenty years ago.  He was moved by the depiction of Jesus because of his obvious brokenness and compassion. For Nouwen the facial expression became a profound spiritual experience.  The Saviour does not look severe, he doesn't judge, but sees everything.  Christ’s eyes seem to be directed at him.  He concludes that Christ’s tender and loving gaze penetrates the brokenness of humanity.

The icon is a powerful image for me as well.  Those eyes seem to be looking at that part in me which denies, and through that denial, betrays.  They look at me as they must have done with Peter on the night of his trial.  Three times he strongly declares that he does not know Jesus and is certainly not a follower.  The rooster crows and Peter looks over to see Jesus looking at him with those forgiving eyes.  Again and again I am forgiven.  Again and again I repeat my mistakes.  There is no judgement.  Only love and compassion.  Jesus suffers with me in solidarity.  Through this my weakness becomes my strength.  My brokenness becomes my path to healing and hope.

It is sometimes difficult to deal with that which has been broken. The proud, strong and invincible youth that we once were has stumbled. The idealism and dream that was clearly defined in our character and mind has dimmed or altered. Our hearts have been wrenched by losses and disappointments. There is no way to avoid these occasions of brokenness. Living life from day to day necessitates their occurrence.

Nouwen says "We are called to claim our unique brokenness, just as we have to claim our unique chosenness and our unique blessedness."  This should give us peace, hope and direction. Our brokenness is distinctive to each of us. It is through these experiences that we receive bread for the journey. We are like the reed which must be dried, hollowed out and carved in order to become a flute. Our music is played only through our brokenness. The one facet of our being that others can clearly relate to is that which has caused us pain. The one light that shines for others is our subsequent ability to live through it, make it to the other side, survive and then to thrive. Our brokenness can provide the lamp of hope for others. The healing eyes of The Savior of Zvenigorod urge us on.