Once again, this week, the news has us reeling over unspeakable tragedy as a gunman opened fire on the campus of Virginia Tech in Blacksburg, Virginia, killing 32 people and then himself. Our response, even from half way across the country, is multi-faceted. We feel grief, fear and anger. We, along with the media, search to place blame. Gun laws aren’t strong enough or they’re too strong. The University didn’t lock down the campus after the first two shootings. The “system” allowed a loner of a kid to get to this snapping point. We wonder what the world is coming to. We feel pressed in by darkness, yet still see glimmers of light.
      At Virginia Tech this past week, as in other tragedies that have hit our country over the years, we have witnessed what the worst of humanity can do, and also humanity at it’s best. The 23-year-old RA with a brilliant smile who was getting ready to graduate with 3 majors and a 4.0 GPA. The young man whose quick thinking had him and a couple other students push a table in front of the door of their classroom keeping the gunman from entering. Students comforting each other, praying together, daring to imagine a future beyond this brokenness.
    Something on the news struck me this week as I spent a morning, for better or worse, glued to my television set. This was spoken as somewhat of a theme that is being used at campus vigils and gatherings. It’s the idea that when a broken bone heals, it actually ends up stronger in the broken places. As we look forward regarding this tragedy, this seems helpful. As we consider our own individual places of brokenness, these words bring a sense of hope. When a broken bone heals, it actually ends up stronger in the broken places. This is exactly what is shown to us in the Gospel lesson and the reading from Acts that are assigned for this day.
     First, let’s focus on Jesus and Peter’s interaction in the Gospel for today. To get the full scope of this interaction, we need to go back to before Easter. We need to remember the Last Supper – how Jesus predicted that Peter would deny him three times and how, to Peter’s horror, that prediction came true.
      Can you imagine how badly Peter must have felt? His last action towards Jesus before Jesus’ death was to deny him. There was no opportunity to say he was sorry. There was no opportunity to redeem himself or be forgiven. Can you imagine his shame? His regret? His brokenness?
      Maybe the only thing more difficult for Peter was facing Jesus again in the Gospel for today. Looking into the eyes of his Risen Lord and Savior, knowing that Jesus was aware of denials. This Gospel is full of redemption. Jesus allows Peter to redeem his three denials as he asks Peter three times if he loves him. By the third question, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” we read that Peter felt hurt.
      Hurt because of the brokenness that existed in him because of his denials. Hurt because Jesus had to verify his love three times. Hurt because that is often part of the process of redemption. Hurt because that is often part of the process of healing. When a broken person heals, he or she actually ends up stronger in the broken places. Peter went on to be one of the main spokesmen of the early Christian church. In pledging his love to Jesus three times on the beach by the Sea of Tiberias, he was really pledging his life. He listened to Jesus’ call that day to follow, to tend and feed Jesus’s sheep. And he did these things until his death as a martyr for his faith.
    The reading from Acts assigned for today also illustrates strength coming from brokenness as we read the Apostle Paul’s call story. One of the most incredible missionaries the Christian church has ever known, Paul wasn’t always such a model disciple. In fact, at one time, he was one of the greatest persecuters of the early Christian church. In this reading, though, we see him experiencing brokenness. He was blinded by a light from heaven on his way to Damascus. This man, who believed that he saw everything clearly, had to be led into town by the people traveling with him.
      For three days, he could not see. Nor did he eat or drink. For three days, he lived in his brokenness. You might even say that he died because as he healed, as God redeemed this man, he was never the same again. When a broken person heals, he or she actually ends up stronger in the broken places. Saul became Paul. Faithlessness turned into faithful witnessing. The persecutor became a great missionary.
     Brokenness exists all around us and has from the moment Adam and Eve ate that first forbidden piece of fruit. It is part of every facet of our lives. As we have celebrated Earth Day this weekend, we’re becoming more and more aware of the brokenness in our own sense of responsibility for the care of God’s creation. As the Iraq War wages on, we see the brokenness in our country’s politics and in the politics of the world community.
     Daily tensions in our relationships make us aware of the brokenness in families and friendships. The Don Imus radio scandal reminds us that the brokenness of race and gender still exists in our country. This is the brokenness in which we sit today. This is the brokenness from which we must heal. The Biblical passages for this day remind us that healing from our brokenness is two-fold. Certainly, God brings the healing. He meets Peter on the beach and redeems Peter by asking him if he loves him. He meets Saul on that road to Damascus and blinds him in order that he might eventually really see.
     He meets us in our places of brokenness and helps move us toward the light. Yet, we have our part in the process, too. Peter had to face Jesus and answer his questions over and over – even when it hurt. Saul had to allow himself to be led. He had to admit that he had been wrong. He had to allow himself to change – to see differently. We, too, have to take steps in our own healing.
    Every single one of us will experience brokenness in our lives – not just once, but many times. Not just on grand scales like the tragedy at Virginia Tech, but on small, very personal scales as well. Our faith doesn’t exempt us from brokenness, but it is one thing that can help carry us through it. Our faith doesn’t keep us from the sometimes painful process of healing, but it is one thing that can give us hope in the midst of it. Hope that when God heals the brokenness in us – hope that when we take the steps we need to take for healing to happen - that we will be stronger in that broken place.
     I want to close with a prayer by Joyce Rupp. We pray certainly keeping in mind the whole community of Virginia Tech, and also mindful of our own places of brokenness.
 
Guardian of the Wounded, wrap us in your embrace. Hold us close to your heart and assure us of your love. Protect our sore spirits. Ease the pain that we hold. You are always ready to embrace us, no matter how hurt or desolate our hearts may be. We will trust you with our pain. We will rest in your solace. We will take refuge in your love.

Amen.




Children’s sermon – band-aids (get the fun ones). Have you ever had a cut or a scrape where you needed a bandaid? (We all do at one point or another.) We put a bandaid on and a few days later our cut has healed and we can’t even tell where we were hurt. Sometimes we hurt on the inside, too. In those times, God is kind of like a bandaid. God heals our pain. Makes us brand new – sometimes even better than we were before. (Give each kid a bandaid. Have a couple extra for the kids to bring out into the community.)