Spirituality is...Mosaic

Benedick: ... and now tell me, how doth your cousin?
Beatrice: Very ill.
Benedick: And how do you?
Beatrice: Very ill too.
Benedick: Serve God, love me and mend.
        "Much Ado About Nothing"  Act V, Scene II
         William Shakespeare

 There are some who quietly suggest spirituality is about wholeness - being together in body, soul, and mind to serve God.  There are others who will trumpet from the rooftops that spirituality is found in brokenness - being shattered and left open for the Lord's work to shine through you.  I find that neither state of being exclusively represents spirituality very well. I believe spirituality is brokenness being made whole. Spirituality is mosaic.

Mosaic art is the art of broken pieces. Some form of media - tile usually - is broken into pieces and then placed on a backing to be used as part of a larger picture. It's a well thought out process:

1. The design, or at least a rough idea of it, is sketched out.
2. Tile is broken or broken tile is collected.
3. The tile is placed into the design - sometimes being nipped into a better fitting shape, sometimes not.
4. The design is grouted - cemented in place so that it holds together.
5. The art work is cleaned and polished so the design shines through.
6. The art work is sealed making it able to stand up against the elements.

Spiritually, we function in much the same way. God works in holy partnership with our humanity to come up with a picture of the Creator we want to show the world. Or, God guides us to be part of someone else's picture. Brokenness (either previous or current) gives us wisdom, perseverance, grace and love so we can be placed in the design.  Sometimes we are nipped or shaped further by teachers or life lessons, sometimes not. Once we are in the design God grouts us with the Holy Spirit and holds the picture together. Over time, through God's loving hand and our willingness, we are cleaned and polished of the things that distract from the picture of God's desire.  We are sealed - through our constant and hopeful relationship with Christ - to stand up to the elements around us. 

No matter where we are in the process - (and we may be in several places at once) spirituality is the name of what is happening to us.

There are some things to note:

Brokenness is NOT the goal.  Much of the time mosiac art is made of tile that happens to have gotten broken naturally. Floor tile that is chipped and can't be used is a good source. In fact, one form of mosaic art - Tea Cup Mosaic - was made popular in the late 1800's when a teacup or other piece of inherited china would accidentally get broken. The broken pieces were turned into a trivet or work of art so the china, and the family history it represented, could be preserved. 
     There are times when you do purchase a tile to break it for the artwork. However, any time tile is purchased specifically to be broken - it is the artist who breaks it. I find God, more often than not, uses our broken pieces that life on earth has already left us with. But if we must experience a specific brokenness for God's greater good - it is God's job to do it.  We should NEVER entertain the idea that it is our job to break someone else so they can "be used of God". We have neither the right, nor the skill, to do so.  Harming someone and calling it God's will isn't spiritual. It's just cruel.

Wholeness is NOT the end. The secret all artists know, and thrive on, is the understanding that when a work of art is completed - its life is just beginning. The way it connects, the meaning it shows, the joy or thought it gives will continue on with each encounter.  None of us are so grouted, so polished or so complete that we can just sit down and say, "Well, that's it. I'm a spiritual being, the picture is done. What's for lunch?"  Spirituality is a pulsing, evolving connection with God and others that doesn't end.

As we journey through our lives, whether we are seeking a purpose for our brokenness or reaching out with our wholeness, let's continue to remember it is the triune relationship between the artist, the media and the audience - each part essential - in which the spirit thrives. 

Look Again

Scripture: Ezekiel 37:1-14

 We all know how easy it is to use our spiritual needs as an excuse. You know – when you  find way to get out of something you don’t want to do by invoking your belief system.  

• “Oh, I couldn’t possibly clean the litter box today, it’s the Sabbath…”
• “I’d love to sign up for an over-time shift…but the love of money is the root of all evil. So, I’m going to a movie…”
• “I can’t eat broccoli. Cain was a farmer, and Abel raised animals. God took Abel’s offering and not Cain’s. Pass the bacon, please…” 

I’ve discovered, however, that you should be careful when you do that – because every once in a while God might just use your excuse against you. Such was the case today as I was kayking on the lake. It was hot, and I was getting tired more quickly than usual. So when we got to the open lake area I said to my companions, “I’m not going to cross the lake today – you go on...I’m kayaking for the sake of my soul today.” (Translation: I just want to sit in the shade, float and rest). But, while I was sitting there watching the others work their way across the lake and back, God managed to give my soul something to think about also.

The shady spot I stopped by had an old tree, its trunk struck by lightning some time ago, that was partially in the water. I looked at the water-cured top of the tree for some time, admiring the shape and curve of the weathered branches. Thinking about the tree, I said to myself “Life is so fragile. Poor tree, too bad it’s dead. Brokenness can kill you.” A breeze blew and my kayak started to turn. Paddling back to my resting spot I looked again and realized that the top of the tree in the water had been dead for some time – but there were living branches all over the bottom. That tree has been there in the water over a year (I remember seeing the split trunk last summer) and still life is thriving. My thought changed from “Brokenness can kill you” to “Wow. Life is strong! You can live through anything! Brokenness is not an end.”

Uplifted, I laughed with God about the opportunity to work on my soul. I realized I didn’t get that chance because I was too lazy to paddle across the lake. I got it because I got a chance to “look again”.

Today’s story is a famous one from the prophet Ezekiel. The dry bones that come to life is something preachers like to talk about and children love to sing about. (♫ Dem bones, dem bones, dem dry bones….♫). But today, in the spirit of the breeze that turns us all around sometimes, I want us to look at it from a different angle. Instead of singing the song, or looking at the bones, - lets take another look at Ezekiel – who needs a lesson in taking another look.

What you can’t see

Ezekiel is receiving all manner of lessons from God. By the time he gets to the valley of bones – he’s pretty worn out. You know those trainings where you look at power point slides for hours? That’s kinda what Ezekiel had been through. Learning symbol after symbol to try to teach Israel about God’s expectations and love, the prophet arrives at the valley of bones for another lesson. He’s tired, he’s overwhelmed and he’s been listening to God for a very long time. So when he looks out at the valley of some army slaughtered long ago, he’s not the most participative student.

When asked if he thinks the bones could live, he passes the question back to God saying, “Only you know…”. That’s one of those fail-safe answers – like when you were a kid taking “True and False” tests and you tried to make your T with a second prong so it could pass as an F if it needed to. Ezekiel is too tired to reason. He’s too tired to speak. He’s too tired to see. What can’t he see? He can’t see the possibility of the living army.

Fortunately the breath of God is going to turn him around like the breeze did me.

Looking at the bones, he has no idea if they can possibly come to life. They are dry – old & weathered. Those bones have been dead a long time. He doesn’t see them as an army. He doesn’t even see them as soldiers- slain in some ancient battle (with a very “Lord of the Rings” like overtone, I’m sure…). He doesn’t see them as the building blocks of life. He just sees bones. But he’s wrong. He’s not looking at a valley of bones. He’s looking at an army of people. He just doesn’t know it.

Too often when we find ourselves in a time of despair we can see only the bones scattered around us. We see the old bones of lost friends, broken promises, forsaken marriages, disconnected church families, and the dreams that never were. God asks us, “Can these things yet live?” But we are tired. We get overwhelmed. We look at our feet, shrug and reply, “Only you know, Lord.”

So, God asks us to look again. In some of those bones there are relationships that can be repaired, although they will be changed for the experience of having died and been brought back anew. In some of those bones are lessons. We can carry the authority of human experience for all we learned through the trauma and loss, and create in our heart a thriving compassion. We can look over our situation and find in that valley the building block of positive action, transformation, and inspiration. Can those bones live again? You bet. They are living now. We just need to see it.

Ezekiel still can’t see the army even after the miraculous connecting (“the shin bone connected to the leg bone…”). So…the breath of God fills the army and Ezekiel gets too look again, again. Finally God explains the meaning to Israel for this stunning display of regeneration. God the grave opener is going to bring them back. Hallelujah! But God put that part last. Why? Because God was waiting for Ezekiel to see.

If you are slipping into the valley of sorrow – whether it be through a current event in your life, the gulf coast oil disaster (I REFUSE to call that a “spill”), the frightening future, or the ghosts of heartaches past – turn around, and look again. There is something you need to see.

Life is fragile, and life is strong.

Brokenness can kill you, but brokenness is not an end.

The bones CAN live. So can your heart. So can the gulf coast.

So can you.

Look again.