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.