Broken and beautiful

Jesus tells a story about two men praying at the Temple in Luke 18:9-14. The Pharisee thanked God that he was a spiritual superstar; God I bless your name that I am so totally awesome! The other man, the tax collector couldn’t even bear to look in the direction of heaven, beat his chest with sorrow, and simply prayed for mercy. Consider for a moment which of these two Jesus would have the church be like, and you’ll probably quickly reject the Pharisee, and select the chest-beater; well done, there is significant truth in that. God would have us be honest, realistic about any mess that decorates our lives, and the Bible isn’t a big fan of those who exalt themselves. However the church is probably called to be the tax collector just a few moments later, after God has lifted him up—those who humble themselves will be exalted. For us, the story never ends on Good Friday.

I mention this because to be a vicar is to see both the incredible brokenness and the incredible beauty of the church. Just read any of Paul or John’s letters to their congregations and you will get that pastors-eye view; in fact reading 1 Corinthians is a particularly shocking experience that should put anybody off being a vicar for good. The Corinthian church was a mess with St Paul himself running it—what hope do you lot have?  And 1 John 2 begins with these uplifting words…’my dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin.’ Don’t sugar coat it John, tell it to us straight. Broken.

But the church is also breathtakingly beautiful; a body functioning perfectly with each part valued; a building with each stone carefully placed; a light to the world.  God exalts the humble church; humility is a gateway, not a dead end. It is always moving as a vicar to see endless acts of quiet faithfulness and service continually sustaining and shaping the life of the church. Beautiful.

I write this with the year ahead of us as a fresh invitation to join with the imperfection and bring yours along too. Serving alongside one another, whether in a choir or on a skatepark, whether in prayer or in the café, whether in Junior Church or in a small group...you get the picture. We aren’t called to work, we are called to each other, and then together, on our better days, we’ll be the light the world is looking for.