Open and Vulnerable
Fourth after Pentecost – Proper 8 - 13^th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Sunday, June 28, 2009

Let us pray: O God, we are blessed by you with many gifts. May we celebrate the strengths you give us – each of us uniquely formed and fashioned, and may we also be open to the ways in which you bless us in our weakness. Guide these words that they may open a window upon your presence, even if it is only a crack in the room darkening blinds. Amen.

We are taught to emphasize our strengths. I've said on many occasions that church congregations should aim to do better what they already do well. I don't claim to be the source of that idea – as much as I agree with it, as I first heard it from Kennon Callahan, a church consultant who first visited our conference in the mid-80's and has returned a number of times since. As I recall, his point was that when we emphasize and improve upon the things that we already do well we are honouring the blessings that God has already given us, and we give ourselves an opportunity to reach for greatness. I remember it as a tremendously inspiring statement, one that I took also as a statement about my personal God-given gifts and abilities.

But the teaching doesn't just apply to visioning and strategic plans for church congregations, empahsizing our strengths is a kind of mantra for our present age. You see it in the trend to coalesce a particular focus into a slogan which highlights a strength that a corporation, non-profit group, or congregation wants to be known for. We are taught to go into job interviews with a positive attitude, ready to describe the things that we do well, and try hard not to dwell upon or even mention the skills that we wish we did better.

Yes, we are encouraged to emphasize our strengths. There's nothing wrong with that, especially when we do so with a mind to honouring God for the particular gifts and abilities we've been given. Paul is so clear to point out on any number of occasions that we are each given particular gifts of the spirit in order that the body of Christ should work well. Each gift is important in the proper functioning of the body as an organic whole.

Let me say it one more time – we should do better what we already do well. God has made us this way – with the particular skills and abilities we've been given. What good would it be if we didn't live our passion and if we gave up on that with which God has blessed us?

But into this comes another idea. Vulnerability. Not strength, but weakness. Not confidence, but anxiety. Not sureness, but doubt. Not knowledge, but questions. Not facts, but faith. There is a clear strand throughout the scriptural record that tells of vulnerability as a way of being immersed in God's presence. This is not a time of standing firm, wielding all the God-given abilities, knowledge and wisdom we've been given – this is a time of feeling helpless, unsure, grief stricken, and overwhelmed.

David, an unexpected, underdog super-hero up to this point in the story, shows another side – a heartbroken poet – lamenting his beloved Jonathan and even his somewhat rival Saul – the very one that David had been chosen to succeed.

We are introduced to vulnerability elsewhere in today's readings – Jairus – a synagogue leader is at a loss. He came to Jesus begging on his knees. This was a man with leadership strengths, bearing and baring his grief before Jesus. A woman with the terrible burden of twelve years of hemorrhaging – which was more than just a debilitating physical condition – for it made her an outcast in the religious society, had exhausted her other options. Medical practitioners had been consulted and had failed to provide any help and in fact had left her worse off, because she was now also economically disadvantaged because they had ripped her off.

What about this? Does this run counter to the idea that we should emphasize our strengths? Is this a more authentic path – not focused on strengths, but weakness? There's no doubt that the exposure brought about by vulnerability can leave us completely open to God. But does this mean that we should seek vulnerability in order to find blessing?

A key theological tenet is that God is ever present. Why would we think that God would only show up when things are tough, when we've run out of options? Why also would we think that God would desert us just when we are in need of God the most?

I remember a period during my time at theological college when it seemed that one of the community norms centred around a race to the bottom – when everyone seemed to want to describe how much they had suffered in their lives – as if that was a sure sign that they were more deserving of blessing, or more in tune with what was on God's mind. Of course, now in retrospect, it seems even more absurd than it did at the time – especially when considered in context. However, I also don't want to dismiss it either. Suffering is personal, and it is difficult to know just how individuals are experiencing it. It's not the suffering or the depth of it that needed a corrective lens applied to it, it is the idea that suffering is a kind of badge of honour. Suffering of any kind is not a badge of honour. It is real and painful and debilitating. It is something we need to find ways to avoid. But it is also something that will always be with us. Care and attention may prevent certain kinds of suffering, but suffering, pain and vulnerability will never go away – they are part of the human experience. They are part of this mystery of life in which God is also present.

God uses our strengths – invests particular abilities, passions, skills and interests within us and we honour God's creativity and blessing when we use them to the best of our ability not as a raising up of ourselves, but as a way of respecting the diversity and wonder of God. This is the eyes-wide-open, drinking-it-all-in type of wonder that marvels at the infinite and the beauty and the glory. God also uses our vulnerability – speaking to us in moments of our greatest wondering – this is the other kind of wonder – the where-can-I-turn, what-options-are-left, I-can't feel-any-more-lost kind of wonder – wonder that shows fear, sadness and dread.

Vulnerability is not something to be sought, but something to be recognised. Vulnerability may well be a defining time for us – as people, as a congregation. Vulnerability can leave us so open to insight from the presence of the Holy Spirit.

Where are our tender spots? What do we try to hide because it exposes our weaknesses? Are we ready to be open to all the ways in which God is present? I wonder....Amen.