The Power of Vulnerability (Easter 3, April 22 2012)

Homily:  Yr B Easter 3, April 22 2012, St. Albans

Readings:  Acts 3:12-19; Ps 4; 1 John 3:1-7; Luke 24:36b-48

The Power of Vulnerability

This morning I want to talk to you about connection.  And in talking about connection, I’m going to draw on some of the work of Brené Brown, a research professor at the University of Houston Graduate College of Social Work.  I came across her stuff on video this week, and for those of you that are curious, here is her video which I highly recommend.

Connection, the ability to feel connected, is, according to the research, the most important thing.  It’s why we’re here, it’s what gives purpose and meaning to our lives.  It’s how we’re wired in a neurobiological sense.  It’s through our relationships with others that our own identity is formed.  For us, connection is what it’s all about.

And yet many people feel a profound sense of disconnection.  Interestingly enough, when Brené Brown as a researcher asked people about connection, they told her stories of disconnection, stories of broken relationships, stories of alienation, stories of loneliness.  And it turns out that the very thing that unravels connection is the fear of disconnection, or to use Brown’s word, shame.  The fear that, in some way, I’m not good enough, or I’m not this enough or not that enough.  Is there something about me that if other people knew it or saw it, I wouldn’t be worthy of connection, of love, of belonging?

We all know this feeling.  The research shows that it is universal, and yet it’s something we don’t want to talk about.  But of course the less we talk about it, the bigger a problem it is. This fear of disconnection, this notion that I’m not this enough or not that enough, it makes us feel vulnerable.  Sometimes, excruciatingly vulnerable.

And so it creates the temptation to protect ourselves.  To not let ourselves be seen.  To control the image we present.  To avoid vulnerability, to limit what others see of us.  But here, there’s a paradox.  Because in order for connection to happen, we have to allow ourselves to be seen.  Really seen, as we are, not as we ought to be or want to be or as others think we should be.

Throughout the course of her research, Brené Brown interviewed thousands of people over six years about connectedness, about their experience of love and belonging.  And after much data and much analysis, she came to the conclusion that if you were to separate the people she had interviewed into two groups, those who have a sense of worthiness, love and belonging, and those who don’t, the ones who struggle, those who wrestle with the voice that says “I’m not good enough”, there is only one thing, only one variable, in research terms, that separates the two groups.

And it is this:  the people who have a sense of worth, love and belonging believe that they are worthy of love and belonging.  It’s that simple.  They are not smarter or more capable or more outgoing, or richer or in different family situations or anything else.  They simply believe that they are worthy of love and belonging.  Or to put it another way, what keeps us from connection is our fear that we are not worthy of connection.  Simple yes, but also a challenge.  Because where does that belief in our own worth come from?  On what does it rest?

I want you to hear again the words written by John which were in our reading this morning:

“See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God, and that is what we are.  Beloved, we are God’s children now.

Isn’t it amazing that the one thing that the research has figured out that we need, this one thing, is the exact thing that God has given us.  You are God’s child.  By God’s choice.  Because God created you to be his child.  Because God loves you.  Now.  As you are right now, with whatever imperfection and wounds you may have, in your uniqueness, in your beauty.  You are God’s child and by virtue of that very identity you are worthy of love and belonging.  You are worthy of belonging in God’s family, you are worthy of God’s love, and you are worthy of my love and the love of everyone else seated here because you are a child of God and they are your brothers and sisters in God’s family.  You belong and you are worthy of connection.  Believe it.

Now you’ve probably heard these words before.  But do you really believe them?  Have you taken them into the core of your being?  Have they become real in your life? 

For some people, these words have become real because as children they were raised in families and communities that reflected God’s love and gave them the gift of knowing that they are worthy of love and belonging.  Others face the more difficult task of learning these things as adults.

But however they get there, people who take these words to heart, who accept what God has given and know their identity as children of God and who live from this deep sense of worthiness will be able to live in the following ways:

They will have the courage to be imperfect and to allow themselves to be seen as they really are.

They will live with compassion, the compassion to be kind first to themselves and then to others.

They will experience connection, the connection that comes as a result of authenticity, the authenticity that comes with being willing to let go of who you think you should be in order to be who you are.

And most of all, and most difficult of all, they will fully embrace vulnerability.  The vulnerability that says “I love you” first.  The vulnerability to let ourselves be seen.  The vulnerability to love with our whole heart even though there is no guarantee, to invest in a relationship which may or may not work out, to open ourselves in ways which may risk being hurt.

There is a paradox here, a paradox that emerges both from the research, and from the mystery of the cross and resurrection that we’ve been wrestling with in this Easter season.  And it is this:  Vulnerability is at the core of our fear and our struggle for worthiness and relationship; but it is also the birthplace of joy, creativity, love and connection.

We kind of know this, don’t we.  Our deepest connections are often born in moments of vulnerability.  I have a friend who I must have seen on a thousand social occasions, but when I think of the connection between us, I can trace it back to one occasion, the time when I visited him in hospital, and he was in terrible pain and could hardly speak, and I didn’t know what to say and felt terribly inadequate because I could do nothing to help, and we just kind of were there together.

It seems like God also knows that vulnerability is the birthplace of connection.  When God wanted to connect with us humans, how did he do it?  Well, he was born as a human being, as a baby, vulnerable and totally dependent on others to look after him.  And then as an adult, when he really wanted to show us what he was like, to show his love for us, he allowed himself to be put to death on a cross, naked, weak, powerless, vulnerable.  And out of that vulnerability, we are able to enter into the deepest possible relationship with him, having seen God as God truly and authentically is.  Out of that vulnerability, we were born as children of God.

And isn’t it interesting that in the Gospel we heard today, when the risen Jesus wants to re-connect with his friends, he says to them, “Look at my hands and feet, look at my wounds and imperfections, see the real me,” and out of that their fear is reborn as joy.

Isn’t it remarkable that we have a God that wants to connect with us and does so by embracing vulnerability?  A God who says to us you are my children, worthy of love and belonging, now, as you are, no strings attached.

Now I don’t know about you, but I find it hard to embrace vulnerability.  I kind of like to be in control of things.  I’m a bit more comfortable when there are strings attached.  I prefer showing people my good side rather than my faults.  I’m more comfortable in situations where I’m know I’m right rather than where I’m pretty sure I’m wrong.  To embrace vulnerability, to give up control and being right and looking good, that would be a kind of death for me. 

But if the gospel is right, if the Easter story is true, maybe that’s the sort of death I need to experience to arrive at new life on the other side.  Embracing vulnerability is hard, but by doing so we gain life.

And if this is something that’s hard for me, well maybe it’s something that we can do together.  Maybe one of the purposes of this thing we call church, this community that we are forming here at St. Albans, is that we can do this together.  We can help each other to really, authentically claim our identity as children of God.  We can make God’s love real for each other.  We can allow ourselves to be vulnerable with each other, to see each other as we really are, to love with our whole hearts even though there are no guarantees.  We can give up the pretending and controlling that impede connections and instead enter into authentic, loving relationships.

See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God, and that’s what we are.  Beloved, we are God’s children now.  We are worthy of love and belonging, just as we are, no strings attached, no need to change a thing. 

And as God’s children, may we embrace the power of vulnerability.

Amen.