Vulnerability

What a long weekend. I have had so many thoughts creeping in and out of mind. Some have brought smiles to my face, and others have caused pangs in my heart. The thought that keeps returning is that of vulnerability. The vulnerability of Christ, the vulnerability of humanity, and how differently we respond.

We sang with dear friends in Indiana on Good Friday. The music was profound and the experience was much needed and welcomed. In music, I tend to find the most transparent, most vulnerable moments the most engaging and touching. This work was no different. There were times of unison that required complete submission to the sound of the whole group, rather than our individual voices. Then there were moments when the voice was unsupported by accompaniment that required singers to listen, agree, and trust. Those are vulnerable moments for singers.

Then there are the vulnerable moments that we encounter as people; sickness, death, grief, sadness, loneliness, fear, depression, hopelessness, the list goes on. Those moments when comfort and security are lost. Those moments we run from and avoid. Those moments which leave us frozen, hiding, withdrawing or escaping. We don't want others to see us in moments of weakness. Of course, there are some obvious public arenas where vulnerability is acceptable and expected. Funerals, weddings, baptisms, what else? I am sure there are more, but these are generally hour long occasions and once passed, the details and actual "work" and "living" that those moments represent are not to be discussed too in depth.

I don't mean to sound cynical, and I am not saying this is always the case. There are those exceptions of people who are willing to stand beside, invest in, and see through the highs and lows that are the real life circumstances that occur after the conclusion of the rituals. Those people who really mean "How are you doing?" and are willing to listen, laugh and cry with you. I think most people want to be able to do that, but it is not always possible or wanted. Sometimes we just don't "see" the need or think that we have anything to offer. Sometimes, people don't show that there is a need. We are taught to not show vulnerability. It is safer, more acceptable to put on a happy face, smile through the pain, say "It's ok." when we are really crumbling inside, deny there is a problem, or go it alone. In fact, we learn through experience that we can not depend on others or rely on others to get us through. For Christians, it is God that gets us through. Other faiths may rely on their Higher Power to sustain them. Then there are those who believe in their own strength and ability to handle whatever comes their way.

But, on Good Friday, all I could think about was how vulnerable Christ must have felt as He walked the road with His cross. Stripped of clothes and bleeding, broken, humiliated; Christ was vulnerable. He was exposed, beaten and deprived of basic decencies. And yet, it is in those moments that we honor Him and recognize not only His humanity, but His power and love for us. In His vulnerability were we redeemed. Yes, He was God and therefore more than we will ever be. But, I wonder if there is something to this transparency and vulnerability that we should learn from. His rising from the dead was the ultimate proof His disciples needed, (us included) to know He was who He said He was. It is the miraculous nature of God to be able to bring life to the dead. But, the gift we received was generously offered in His suffering and death.

Not to dwell on the darkness of our own sin, though it is as strong and ugly today as it was the moment that He died on the cross; I want to honor the example of His complete and utter willingness to share His moment of suffering with each one He loves. He had His time in the Garden, alone. It was too much for His disciples to stay awake praying. Life is indeed too intense sometimes. We are weak. I can easily relate to those disciples who didn't recognize the importance or needs of that moment. Christ needed to be with His Daddy; asking questions, seeking reassurance, needing strength and love that only God was able to provide.

The denial was foretold at the last supper, as was the betrayal of Judas. Can't help but identify with those characters as well. I can recall the times I have denied loving and caring for people because I was told it wasn't acceptable. Some of my greatest sadness comes in realizing that out of my own bitterness and anger at being rejected, I have denied and withdrawn from those I love. Despite the love that was or wasn't offered in return, I denied and rebelled against friends, family, and God. Then there is Judas who betrayed God with a kiss. I have been guilty of betraying my God, myself and those I love. Sometimes the greatest betrayals can be done through gestures of kindness. Though Judas' betrayal was concerted and self-serving, I can relate more to the betrayals that come because I haven't stopped to seek God first in my actions and decisions, but rather my own desires. I meant to be kind, I meant to be loving; but I didn't understand, or didn't realize that my actions would be hurtful. Never intending to cause pain, doesn't mean that the action wasn't painful. (This is a tangent I should not get started on. I am deeply regretful, and hopefully will one day be forgiven for the pain I have caused. It was not an intentional betrayal or a concerted effort to inflict pain. It was ignorance and my humanness.)

However, when I look at Jesus in this moment of his life, He was vulnerable. You could see His pain, and He offered it with dignity and grace. He didn't hide and He didn't run away. He walked forward. Though no one could take this pain from Him, not even God; He lived and died for you and me. I am thankful and prayerful for those friends and family who walk through pain and suffering each day. Though we don't always wear the bruises or the wounds openly, we walk through crowds of bystanders who will never understand the suffering. When the initial trauma is long passed, and the celebration of life is finished; when the world says it is time to be strong and hide the pain; when being vulnerable is not an option; I know that God sees and knows our suffering. We have a place to be vulnerable where judgment and ridicule, expectations and responsibilities will be laid aside. Comfort and strength from the One who gave His life that we might live and die is what we can receive when we are vulnerable. Jesus proved through His death and resurrection that God is present in the darkest moments, and brings light and life from the shadows.