Cracks, Cohen, and the week of the Cross

I picked up a novel to finish today. Not that it intrigued me much, yet I felt compelled to finish what I started, and honestly, it was a nice distraction. Three pages into it a whisper came between the lines. I almost missed it, I almost kept reading, yet I paused hoping I might experience something deeper as I feel distracted this Holy Week.

My Lenten journey has not held any profound revelations. It’s been like this for the past few years – hoping this time during the church calendar I can get back on track with spiritual practices, physical exercise, and restful sleep. Yet the journey turns out looking mish-mashed, hodge-podged, patchworked together.

So I’m reading a novel instead of commentaries on holy texts, a mystery rather than wisdom of ancients’ encounters with the holy.

Still, a quote from this portion of the novel made me pause:

The inspector interviewed an artist who described the way she painted – always leaving a crack in the composition, her perfection meant including a bit of imperfection. She offered this Leonard Cohen lyric as the reason:

“Ring the bells that still can ring,

Forget your perfect offering,

There’s a crack in everything,

That’s how the light gets in.”

(cracked log lamp by furniture designer Duncan Meerding)

In the sleepless nights when I see the light from the kids’ nightlights spill out under the door I am reminded of the beauty contained in those rooms. I can easily find the cracks in my sermons preached, things I’ve written, and words undeftly spoken – instead of allowing those moments to discourage me, I need to trust God will use those cracks to spill out light.

Holy Week strikes me as a week of cracks. In order for the light of resurrection to break through, the crack of crucifixion had to occur. The Cross Cracked the expectations of those following Jesus, and it continues to do so today. And part of the good news of Holy Week is Jesus comes for those who are cracked – who don’t have it all together in life or family or vocationally. Christ comes for all of us.

Communion reminds me of God’s love in the cracks. In order for us to share in the bread together, we need to crack open the crust and offer pieces to our neighbors. The world sees cracks as damaged goods, yet God sees them as opportunities for grace, glory, healing, and light.

The cracks let the light into our souls, and the cracks allow God’s light to shine through us for others. I’m thankful God speaks through the everyday and common things like bread broken and a mystery novel read. I’m thankful the light gets in and goes out.