I recently returned from a gathering of my peers (fellow liberal Swedenborgian ministers) in beautiful Laport, Indiana. I was asked to give the talk to the local congregation Wednesday night. We had been fed and housed by the several generous, quiet, and amazingly kind ladies of this congregation as we listened, discerned, and upheld each other in love. This was the message, from our hearts to the whole congregation.
Broken Open
Scripture: John 12 20-26
Rev. Alison Longstaff
The Laport New Church, Indiana
Joint worship at the close of “Peer Supervision,” October 24, 2012
John
12:24 “Timeless truth I speak to you: unless a grain of wheat falls and dies in
the ground, it remains alone. But if it
dies, it yields a great abundance.”
What do we do in peer supervision?
Do we discuss deep points of doctrine?
Do we explore the
deep underlying existential and theological implications of ministry in modern
western global consciousness today?
Nope.
We come for fellowship.
We come to listen and to heal. We come to share in the one community that really gets us.
So what happens in these meetings? A great deal of heart truth. What happens in these meetings? Listening, sharing, empathy, comfort, and
support; insight, respect, often tears, sometimes heart-wrenching sobs, and
always uproarious laughter.
And this was a point of insight for us --- that without
the willingness to go into our depths of sadness and struggle, we would not
also be opened to the moments of tremendous light. Unless we allowed ourselves to be broken open
by the love and safety here, we would tend to remain tightly bound in our need
to be strong. Pastors need pastors too. And
so here we find that when we let ourselves be supported by each other --- when
we let ourselves feel our deepest vulnerability, we rediscover our greatest
strength, which is God’s relentless, persistent, unconditional love,
experienced through each other.
Like the seed in the scripture falling to the earth, we must
surrender. We would prefer to hold on to
“life.” To feel strong and competent and
capable. It is much harder to look openly
at our fears and insecurities. It is
much easier to be strong. Who likes
feeling vulnerable? Yet through our
descent into the dark earth of vulnerability, God cracks us open, and THEN the
sacred and creative and the beautiful burst into life.
It is a universal truth of the human condition: that deep
in the heart of each soul is the terror of not being good
enough. Deep in each psyche lies the
fear of being innately unlovable. This
is commonly called shame, and every mistake we have ever made piggybacks on
this shame and seeks to convince you and you and me that we are somehow truly
unlovable, and that some day, someone will figure this out and the game will be
up. We will be rejected, “as we deserve.”
But guess what? There
are no throw-away people.
None.
So let’s just admit it right now. We all
have warts. We are all afraid of being just too broken to love. And we are all completely beautiful and full
of light! And only through our
vulnerability and heart-honesty, do we experience God’s presence among us, in
compassion, gentleness, healing tears, and then deep belly-aching laughter.
If we isolate and try to maintain the illusion of
strength, we remain alone. But when we
allow ourselves to die, and to let our pride go, we are open to finding true
intimacy and the abundant life of true heart-relationship --- which is the
kingdom of heaven.
We came to these meetings holding it together.
We leave whole and together.
We came needing healing.
We leave with such gratitude for this
congregation’s quiet, amazing support and hospitality.
Thank you for your light and love.
