Last week was filled with holy work. I have written before in these pages about how much I enjoy receiving, reading and then assembling the submissions to both our Advent and Lenten devotionals. The writings are mostly original, created by those in the church community. If not original, they are words that have been held onto because they have inspired or challenged. I imagine them tucked into the pages of Bibles and books, kept safe for ‘just when I need it’ or when the right opportunity arises to gift them to someone else. This week was the time I gather with two other readers for the creation of this booklet which will help guide people’s walk through the 40 days of Lent. The reflections are words to accompany people on the way to Easter.

Every time I go through this process, I know it for what it is. Sacred work. But this year’s theme seemed to make the reading and the assembling even more so. The theme is “Breaking” and it provided the opportunity for people to share stories of their own breaking. The reflections are remarkable in their vulnerability and candor. Some are heart wrenching. Others are funny. All are honest and courageous. I was filled with humility at the willingness of people to share their deep hurts and despair. I was inspired by their amazing hope and faith. As we read and created an order for these writings, it felt like we were assembling the shards of stories into a beautiful mosaic, a stained glass window of pieces that individually are broken but when placed together create something more, a community that has chosen to strive together toward healing and wholeness.

Leonard Cohen has written a song he calls simply ‘Anthem’. In the lyrics are these lines: ‘Ring the bells that still can ring.Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.’ Yesterday, with the stories of breaking still floating in my heart, I walked into our chapel for worship late in the morning. I was met by the sight of a few of the regular members of the community who had arrived early walking closer to the stained glass windows looking at the images created by colored glass. You see, the sun was shining brightly, a rarity in these winter days. These people who had sat in the seats in this chapel with great regularity were drawn in by the light shining through the broken pieces of glass in a way they must have missed before. The cracks…..that are in everything….were letting the light shine through. This creative act of taking pieces of broken glass and telling the stories of the parables had once again found a way to amaze.  It was as if they were seeing them for the first time.

I thought of all the brokenness in our world. I thought of the people I know who are right now walking around with broken hearts and broken spirits. I thought of the many places where families and communities, whole countries are broken by war and hate. And all the places where the brokenness of injustice and greed and oppression are the rule. I thought about the brokenness in our Creation, places were the water is no longer drinkable, the air filled with harm, the ground saturated with toxins that will create more brokenness. Going down this path can be overwhelming and certainly depressing.

But then I remember the words of those who offered their life stories to us as we created this devotional. Yes, there is a crack in everything, all the time. But that is how the light gets through. The light of the sun making ancient stories dance with new beauty and meaning in a space that had grown familiar. The light of peace offered between people and countries. The light of hope held out to those living on the margins. The light of action as legislators are called to accountability. The light of love as time is shared and relationships are mended.

Today could be a day to take whatever is broken in our lives and hold them before the Light of the One who birthed the sun and everything under it. It might help us see something new, something healing, something life-changing in all those broken pieces.