Broken… and Made Whole Again

A sermon by Senior Minister John B. McCall, October 4, 2009

Mark 10:2-16

I was reading an obituary for an ancestor on my mother’s side of the family – that’s the blue-blooded English ancestry, not to be confused with the renegade Scots on my father’s side. This was the account of a prosperous Massachusetts businessman in the late 19th century. I stopped in my tracks when I read the phrase “he was a man of highest integrity, and lived an unblemished life.”

Oh, really – an unblemished life? No pain? No heart-ache? No struggles? No short-cuts? No lapses? No sin? More likely the blemishes were carefully hidden from public view. While we often get too much information — like Jerry Springer or even Oprah — maybe we’ve learned that pretending an “unblemished life” is ridiculous.

We’re not called to perfection. We’re called to walk the path with the One who knows us, and loves us, as the Letter to the Hebrews says: …not “a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin” (4:14-15).

As for the rest of us – when we step in this door we know we take our place among friends – not hypocrites, not judges, not pretenders of perfection, but sisters and brothers who know the temptations and frustrations and short-comings as well as we do. We all have sinned and fallen short of the grace of God. The truth is: our lives don’t look like a Walt Disney script, do they? Handsome young princes, sleeping beauties? Not likely!

Most of us have lived a messy mixture that certainly includes chapters labeled “broken hearts,” “shattered dreams” and maybe even “ruined life.” And then, by the grace of God, most of us discover wholeness on the far side. I hold that out to you who are neck deep in that messiness right now.

Why do such things happen? Lots of reasons – natural law or mere chance, much of the time. But Jesus also knew that hard hearts and selfish choices are a common cause for the bruises and sadness. We hurt ourselves and each other by choices we make. Truly there’s not a righteous person among us. As the Psalmist wrote: “if you were to keep track of our transgressions, O Lord, who could stand?” (Psalm 130:3)

But let’s see how Jesus handled this reality. First, rather than condemning us he held up a mirror and told his listeners the blunt, unvarnished truth. And then, he offered healing and a second chance. God intends for us to face our sins honestly but doesn’t intend for us to stay stuck in the wilderness.

Today’s Gospel from Mark 10 is about divorce. It reminds me of the old Vermonter who told a neighbor that he’d heard a rousing sermon at a tent revival the evening before in the town square. His neighbor said “well what did he preach about?” “Sin.” “And what did he say?” “He was against it.”

Mark tells us the Pharisees, men of the law, came to Jesus with a question about how the scriptures regarded divorce. “How do you read it?” said Jesus and they replied that the Law permits a man to divorce a woman if she displeases him.

They perhaps expected Jesus to dismiss the law. Instead, he reminded them God is not pleased with broken promises. God tolerates them because God knows human hearts are hard. Divorce, then as now, was the recourse for those who couldn’t learn to live with each other according to God’s intentions.

Jesus wasn’t soft on divorce or adultery or oppression or selfishness. But he was firm about the nature of grace. He saw beyond the pain to the healing. Remember the story in the Gospel of John, chapter 7, when Jesus saw the crowd ready to kill a woman caught in adultery? He said “let the one among you who is without sin cast the first stone.” They all went away in silence.

When we learn of a divorce we look at the public side and form our opinions. But there’s always a hidden, private side that no one on the outside can see. I don’t believe it’s ours to debate whether some particular divorce is moral and right, while some other is not. It’s enough for us to know that divorce and the broken promises that precede it leave everyone wounded.

Instead of giving in to the temptation to pass judgment I have a single question: when our lives are broken, when our sins overwhelm us, do we believe there is sufficient forgiveness to CHANGE US, TO LIFT US UP, TO GIVE US NEW LIFE? And do we, as a Christian community, live like we believe it?

That’s what Jesus came to show us – not that God is soft on sin, but that there’s no way life can break and bruise us such that God can’t redeem us and heal us.

We’ve had that experience in our family: next Sunday Andrea and I will be in New Hampshire for a family wedding. We’re excited Kathy and Mel have found each other and that they’re prepared to make their marriage vows. Both have been through divorce, both have been single parents for many years. And now they’re ready to step forward as a new family.

But Andrea and I haven’t figured out quite how to refer to them because our relationship is by love, not by blood. Kathy, you see, is the mother of our grandchildren, Dylan and Kevin. She was married to my oldest son, Seth, and they, too, experienced the heart-break of divorce.

In my mind, the sweetest thing is that the love between Kathy, Andrea and me has remained and deepened even when her marriage covenant with my son ended. Symbolic of this deep friendship, Kathy and Mel have invited Andrea to solemnize their marriage, not as a former mother-in-law, but as a minister in the United Church of Christ, and as a dear friend. God is constantly at work, walking with us in the messiness of our lives and showing us a way toward healing.

Now I believe that this chance for healing, this renewed hope for Kathy and Mel to make sacred promises is good for them, good for their children, and good for the community. I believe that we as a society should do all we can to encourage and support people in making such covenants even when we can’t fit them inside the frames that we’re accustomed to. That’s what we agreed as a church in 2002 when we voted to authorize your pastors to give the church’s blessing to same gender couples who come to us in light of their Christian faith, prepared to make sacred promises of fidelity and permanence. We, your pastors, have exercised that trust faithfully and lovingly.

As we all know, there’s loud public debate over the new state law authorizing same-sex marriage. We the people will exercise our right as citizens in a referendum vote on November 3, voting “yes” to rescind the new law or “no” to keep the new law. There’s a ton of information, misinformation, and rhetoric swirling around.

Still, what I haven’t heard is any convincing evidence that permitting same-sex couples to marry will damage my marriage or anyone else’s. I haven’t heard how allowing same gender couples to live under the full protection and rights of marriage will corrupt their children or any one else’s. And I haven’t heard how legal protections by the state will infringe on my moral and religious convictions as a Christian.

What I have heard is arguments that say “same-sex marriage is wrong because it doesn’t fit the ideal of marriage as we see it in the Bible – one man, one woman, living together faithfully till death parts them.” What we all must admit is that a smaller and smaller percentage of loving couples fit that model – once called an “ideal.” Growing numbers of us live in families that have been bent and broken, and then blended and reshaped in amazing ways. All any of us wants is the freedom to find healing, love and joy with those whom we love.

Are we ready to believe that God wants us to find wholeness and joy, even when our lives don’t fit into the neat boxes that some will label as “unblemished” or “too broken to mend?”

I remember a man who found his way to us in a previous parish. He’d been active in a Wisconsin Synod Lutheran Church – a branch that considers Missouri Synod Lutherans wild-eyed liberals! Well Jerry’s marriage collapsed. And when news got around that his wife had moved out the pastor had called Jerry – him not to offer support but to tell him he was no longer an Elder and would not be allowed to take communion ever again.

Jerry longed to receive the sacrament and a friend invited him to come to our UCC church. He exhibited the body-language of a person who had the world on his shoulders. When the Sunday came for communion (once a month in our tradition), I saw Jerry come forward with open hands. And when I served him I looked him in the eye and said: “Jerry, this is the bread of life, broken for your healing; this is the cup of blessing poured out for the forgiveness of your sins.” His hands trembled and tears flowed down his face as he took and ate. Then he turned and walked back the aisle – and kept walking and out the door. I never saw him again but I’ve always believed that in that moment the Holy Spirit turned him toward healing and that he eventually found his place in a community where he was allowed to be just one authentic person among many – wounds and all.

Do we believe this table really is open to anyone who seeks new life in Christ? For what greater sign of love and forgiveness can there be than remembering Jesus gave his life for ALL – for those who pretend to live an unblemished life and those who know themselves to be sinners?

On this World Communion Sunday we know the Body of Christ itself is broken and wounded by the divisions that have come from doctrine; but more than that from our judgments of others as unworthy, casting them aside as fallen and lost. Fortunately, we’re not called to be perfect. We’re called to be family, gathered together by a gracious host. So we come to this table – sign and symbol of God’s amazing grace.

No matter who you are, or where you are on life’s journey, you are welcome at this table where we gather… broken and made whole again.