Beautifully Broken

Do you ever struggle with your own self worth because of the things you’ve been through? Do you look at the clean shiny people around you with envy, and wonder what they would think if they saw you for how you really are, the damage that’s been done to you, or how you feel on the inside? I know I do. Often I feel like my value to other people is diminished when they learn my story, or see my brokenness. What I have done in this life won’t be written about in history books. I won’t be talked about when I am gone, and for every success God has given me, I can show you twice as many failures of my own making. I have dozens of fractures and scars, not to mention regrets, mistakes, and injured relationships. 

So let’s talk about broken.

Have you ever heard of an art form called Kintsugi ? 

In the middle of 15th century Japan, the eighth shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa inherited a delicate and rare tea set. The tea set had initially been gifted to Taira no Shigemori by a Chinese Emperor of the Song dynasty. In this tea set was a beautiful Celadon bowl, renowned for its thin flawless porcelain, and its exquisite jade like color. It was also extremely difficult to produce. During the Song dynasty it was the official porcelain of the Chinese court, and for it’s duration (960-1279 AD ) bowls, cups, and all manner of utensils were expertly crafted in this fashion, both for beauty and function. Soon these dishes became highly prized, even by foreign interests.

So imagine Ashikaga’s displeasure as he opened his tea box. This rare and beautiful possession, more than 300 years old, was now useless. He could see the tabletop through the shattered bottom, its perfect exterior  tarnished by a long, ugly crack. Someone had broken it.

Me too, Bowl. Me Too.

Can you relate? I think many of us have felt broken, our usefulness and potential destroyed. More than once, I have fallen on my face before God, knowing that my life was in shambles, my ministry unrecoverable, my entire world a mixture of shame, loneliness, and defeat. I was broken, unable to serve my intended purpose, good for nothing. Sometimes, I still feel that way.

Anyways, back to our bowl.

Upset about the damage to the tea set, and it’s utter lack of usefulness, Ashikaga did what many of us would do. 

He tried to send it back.  

Since Amazon didn’t exist back then, Ashikaga gave the bowl to an emissary, and sent him to China to exchange it for a NEW bowl that would match the tea set. ( I’m assuming he had a receipt) Unfortunately,  the manner in which true Longquan Celadon was manufactured had already been lost to time. At the Longquan Kiln, the wizened master potter turned the bowl slowly over in his hands. He shook his head and looked up “It is impossible.” He said. “To make such a beautiful bowl twice.” Instead the Master potter used a mixture of gold powder and laquer to fill the spaces, and installed large bronze staples, like stitches; along the cracks.

I can only imagine that Ashikaga was furious when the bowl was returned to him. Instead of a flawless beautifully functional bowl, he held in his hands the ugly duckling of tea bowls. Irate, he gave the newly repaired bowl a name “Bakohan”, because the garish bronze staples reminded him of locusts. (Bakohan means large locust clamps)

He placed the bowl back into the tea set, and tried to hide his disappointment. The bowl’s perfection was ruined, its value diminished. 

Or was it?

Word began to spread about the bowl, it’s history a curious novelty. It had been gifted by an Emperor and used ceremonially for nearly three hundred years. It had been broken, and sent back across the sea to China. It had been repaired, and despite its hideous scars and staples, had made its way back to Japan where it had been given a name. This simple tea bowl had something that the other bowls in the Shogun’s palace did not… it had a story. 

As Japan grew, so too did the story of the bowl. The history it had witnessed became tied to the scar it bore. The broken yet skillfully restored bowl inspired something new- The repairing of broken vessels using rare metals and lacquers, in a way that made them more beautiful and exquisite than they had been when they were created. This art form became known as Kintsugi. Kintsugi in its own right became a new philosophy, that breakage and repair should be considered as part of an objects history, and carefully considered when evaluating it aesthetically. Kintsugi as a philosophy is simply this: Brokenness can become something far beyond Beautiful if it is illuminated, rather than disguised or hidden. 

What would Bakohan’s story have been if it had remained unbroken? For centuries it had already served ceremonial teas, sealing relationships and negotiations. It might have continued that existence until today, continually serving, perfect in form and function. We will never know. Its brokenness changed its identity, defining it.  

Today, the bowl known as Bakohan is on display in the Tokyo National Museum. Millions of visitors have been impacted by their visit to Bakohan, the broken bowl. It shines as a philosophical icon of true value, and artistically as an example of things which are “beautifully broken”. Its place is forever secure as one of Japan’s National Treasures. It is considered PRICELESS.

What about you and I though? Interestingly, the Bible says in psalms 51 that “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: A broken and contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.” Sacrifices are the gifts that we give to God, but why would God want a broken anything? I have asked myself that question many times. I think it boils down to this: Grace can never invade the self sufficient heart. The perfect vessel, or the vessel that believes it is perfect, will never feel the touch of the Master’s hands. 

Think about that for a second. Does it dawn on you, as it did me, that our breaks and fractures, our own insufficiency is what creates room for God? In 2 Corinthians 12, Paul beseeches God earnestly 3 times about his brokenness. The answer from God is this: “My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made PERFECT in weakness.” Paul goes on to say:  “Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, THEN AM I STRONG. 

We too should take comfort in our brokenness. Our Father knows our broken places intimately, and his grace longs to fill them.When we allow him to enter our broken hearts, we aren’t just healed… we aren’t just restored… when his grace fills the voids within us, the strength it lends us is made PERFECT, not despite our weakness, but because of our weakness. 

When we allow Christ to restore what we have shattered, our dreams, our lives, our purpose; there can be no doubt- the Master’s touch creates new life within the fragments, transcends utilitarian and makes the most humble of vessels a work of art… and even though it is still broken, and always will be, now it is… 

                                                                                                       …Beautifully Broken.

 We’re not going to Bethsaida

“And straightway he constrained his disciples to get into the ship and go to the other side before unto Bethsaida, while he sent the people away.” - Mark 6:45

Have you ever been lost? They asked Daniel Boone one time if he had ever been lost. Ol’ D.B. pondered quietly for a moment, and then replied: “No, but once I was a mite bewildered for 3 days.”

I guess lost can mean different things to different people. 

I am not Daniel Boone, and I have been lost.

I was a young man when I felt God’s call on my life for the first time. After high school, I studied for my BA in Theology at a place called Jackson College of Ministry in Jackson, Mississippi. After less than 2 years, without the money to continue to pay my tuition, and with flagging grades, I withdrew, and returned home in failure. It was the beginning of an existential crisis, one that quickly became a common theme in my life. Struggling to reach the destination God had placed within my heart… and failing over and over again. Slowly but inevitably, I began to question. “Why would you call me, and then all of this happen?” “Why put this in my heart, and then let every door be slammed in my face?” 

 Most of that time I felt like I was forgotten by God. I felt Lost. 

You don’t have to be a firefighter for long before you realize that “lost” is the worst thing a firefighter can be. Getting lost in a fire can have immediate and tragic consequences- forget Chicago fire- you can’t see your hand in front of your face, and it’s hot, and it’s dangerous. Nothing about that environment is survivable without layers of PPE, special training, and precautions. There’s no margin for error. Get lost in there, separated from your partner, and it could be the last thing you ever do.

Getting lost or turned around on the way to a call is just as bad, especially in your own “First Due”. (The term firefighters use for the territory assigned them) People are counting on you to be there- people in distress- and every second it takes you to get there belongs to THEM, not you. Get lost going to a call, and someone else may have to bear tragic consequences. That’s something no firefighter wants to live with. 

We train hard to try to prevent accidents like that. We spend hours every shift, usually right after lunch, making sure when the tones drop, we know where we are going, what we are doing when we get there, and what to do if things go from bad to worse. The answers to all three of these things are definitive and simple. I find that comforting, and it is probably one of the reasons I was so drawn to the fire service in the first place. I like simple questions with simple solutions. 

Now let me set the stage for some really complicated questions, and see how you would answer them.

The Sea of Galilee is the lowest freshwater lake in the world, right around 700 ft below sea level. It is only 33 miles in circumference, and  an observer standing almost anywhere along its edge can see the entire shoreline. It is also unusually warm, and surrounded by steep, rocky shore. Because of this, very dramatic and unique weather develops here. Cooler air will move in from the north, channeled southward down the Jordan river. It accelerates as it drops into the valley above the sea, falls through the warm air above it, and creates tremendous winds and storms when it hits the water. That is most likely what the disciples encountered in Mark 6:48
, and it’s here that our story plays out. 

Christ has just fed the 5000. (1)

 They are in a “desert place” probably near the town of Tiberias, on the west side of the sea. (At the beginning of the chapter they had left Jesus’ hometown, where the people’s unbelief had limited his ability to work miracles in their life- but that’s a whole message unto itself, isn’t it?) 

He sends the disciples, in a boat; before him, across the sea to Bethsaida (2) while he sends the crowd away. The disciples know where they are going. Most of them grew up on this sea. Andrew, James, John, and Peter… and  Peter’s mother and family still lived in Bethsaida. I would imagine they are glad to be going home. They most likely believed that Christ would follow them by walking the high road around the sea- a journey of a few days, and until he got there, they would finally get that rest he had offered them (verse 31). While Christ goes to a mountain to pray (probably Mt Arbel, highest point on the Sea of Galilee) the disciples set off an easy trip of an hour or so, since the sea is only 8 miles at it’s widest point. ( the average cross fitter rows 2000 meters, roughly 1/6 this distance in less than 10 minutes. Granted that’s on a rowing machine, and in the air conditioning… but have you ever rowed 2000 meters? Exactly. It’s horrible, but I digress) 

The Bible says that when even was come (about 6pm) the ship was “in the midst” of the sea, and they toiled in rowing, because of the wind blowing against their progress.  This is when Christ sees them. 

Finally, during “the fourth watch”, (between 3am and 6am) he begins to walk across the sea and would have PASSED THEM BY - Also, if you’re doing the math, the time between even and the fourth watch is a minimum of 9 hours. The disciples see him, walking on water and leap to the completely rational assumption that what they see is a spirit, and they “cry out” because they are troubled. No judgement here. I have never seen anyone walking across the water towards me in the middle of the night, in the middle of a storm. If I did, I’m not sure “troubled” is the word I would use.

Christ tells them: Be of good cheer. It is I, be not afraid.” He gets in the boat, and immediately the winds cease. You have probably heard that story a dozen times, but have you ever noticed this?

As dawn breaks, they draw in to the shore… only.... they aren’t in Bethsaida. They are in Genneserat. Genneserat is on the same side of the shore that they left 9-12 hours ago, and within a few hours walk. They are exhausted. And as they begin to ponder the events of the last few days you have to wonder how they felt. What was going through their minds?

I can imagine that I know exactly the way they felt. I can imagine that I know the questions they began to ask:

“Why the Storm, if you control them?” 

“Were you just going to leave us out there?”

And the most important question of all: 

“Why would the God of all creation, who knows everything, tell me to go somewhere he never wanted me to go in the first place ?” 

My heart burned to ask God that same question for years. Even today, I am definitely not where I felt I was “Called” to go. For a long time I struggled with that- I felt betrayed- not just by those I trusted and depended on, not just by my own shortcomings and failures, but by GOD. 

I failed for so long, trying to get to somewhere I KNEW he told me to go. And I spent all of that time wondering if the “Calling” was true and I was incapable of achieving it, or if I had been mistaken, and was being turned away by the very hand of God. 

Shocking isn’t it? 

The story in Mark 6 has been in my heart for a few years now. It made me feel better, and I wanted to write about it for much of that time, but could never find the words- and believe me, I tried. I talked about the story with everyone I knew, my Christian friends, my wife… trying to flesh out the lesson that seemed to settle my soul, but defied expression. What was it about this story? 

It is only this morning that God spoke to my heart.

We fixate on destination. And with good reason. If you do not have a destination(in this world) then you can never be sure of your direction. If you are unsure of your direction, then you are either stationary, or lost.. maybe both. 

This doesn’t hold true for our calling though, and we all have a calling. YOUR calling exists the second God lays it upon your heart- and it exists no matter where you go, or what you do. Who you are never depends on WHERE you are. The gifts and the calling of God are without repentance (they don’t go away, Romans 11:29). So let go of where you think you should be, and BE who you are called to be…. Wherever you are. The destination is irrelevant. 

God sees you. He sees the storm. He hasn’t forgotten you. He can’t. And he is intimately concerned with your life. (Isaiah 49:15 says that a mother may forget her infant child, but he will not forget you)

And the final and ultimate lesson is this: 

In those moments when you are unsure of everything, destination, direction, even survival… all you have to do is invite him into the boat. And once you do, you will realize- that was what was important all along. 

We’re not even going to Bethsaida, and it doesn’t matter.