Today the Pastor began the sermon with this question, which was really more like an invitation or an encouragement to see the larger picture I think. It's hard to see the larger picture ... I think. It's hard to see over the walls we ourselves build.
"What is the story that grace tells in your life?"
And he went on to say we all have stories. He told us about a visit to Vancouver prior to the Olympics. Apparently, as part of the general spiffing up process, the street people, homeless, broken by drink and drugs .... messed up folks, prostitutes ... street people were "relocated" and social services were bumped up to support the effort. He said a lot of Christian people intentionally chose to relocate to that specific area where the hurting folks were re-situated and to make a long story shorter, one couple had a very young daughter whom the prostitutes were very fond of. Her sweet little joyful presence melted many a wall which choice and circumstance had conspired to build around the hearts and imprisoned souls of these fallen sisters. Many of these ladies came to know the restorative power of the saving grace of Jesus Christ via the presence of this child in their every day broken lives. Pastor didn't say this, but I think they saw themselves, their way back selves, in the sweet face of a little child ... and I think they traded what might have been for what could yet be. Audacious courage spun of grace.
"Before people can see Christ through you, they may need to see themselves in you.
The sermon was drawn from Matthew 10:1-4 which enumerated the twelve disciples which Christ selected. Pastor said that these guys were an unlikely group at best, among their number, four fishermen (just small business men trying to make the a living), the insurgent Simon Peter, and a tax collector, Matthew, who would be shunned/scorned for colluding/collaborating with the occupying Romans. Just people. Real people who might have been a fairly good representation of the Jewish community found in ancient Israel. People with life experience who found themselves transformed by ... grace.
I've been thinking about exactly that quite frequently this past year. We find ourselves broken. We are broken, but agile at shielding that broken part of our lives from view. We hid our brokenness. It is very difficult to be transparent ... and I'm talking about in those places where one is safe to do so and it is appropriate to do so constructively.
... on a slightly different track, also in church today a trio of young women sang ensemble and then each had a little solo bit. One of the girls sang a couple of words and then just stopped singing altogether. I do not know what startled her, why she was done. She stayed right there though with her head dropped and her hands shielding her ... what? Humiliation? Mortification? Did the message of the song hover in some inner chamber touching the soul of the singer so intimately that to continue public worship became impossible? I really don't know what happened in her heart to make the song stop, but it was a perfect picture of what the Pastor would be talking about. She probably thinks she messed up. But ... I saw myself in her, and I bet others in the congregation did as well. I saw someone step up to the plate and opened their heart, and it's scary to risk like that ... with one's soul wide open to sing the song that is in them. It's very difficult to open up your heart and expose your soul ... as really singing in front of people (and even while alone) seems to be about to me.
"Music is the divine way to tell beautiful, poetic things to the heart." ~ Pablo Casals
So, something happened which snapped her song off and closed her soul ... off, and I really really hope she doesn't respond to that by building walls. It's going to take some grace.
(Maybe sometimes it's grace that makes it possible for the caged bird to sing.)
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