Kintsugi of the Heart

This morning, as we prepare for communion, I want to focus on the amazing power of Christ’s redemption. Can you think of a time, when you broke something valuable and wished that it could be put back together as though nothing was wrong?

I can still remember it like it was yesterday. Standing in my friend's grandparents' living room in the mid-1980s, admiring a beautiful end table – beveled glass, chandelier-like sparkles. Then, in a flash, it was shattered. I’d lost my balance, tried to steady myself, and the table, never meant to support my weight, crumbled beneath me. My heart sank. What a mistake! How could we pay for it? How could I explain it? If only I could undo what I’d done. Regret, remorse…if only I could put it back together.

That memory brings to mind the Japanese art of Kintsugi. Broken pottery and furniture aren't just discarded; they're painstakingly repaired, the cracks filled with melted gold. The brokenness is not hidden, but highlighted, transformed into something even more beautiful. The piece is stronger, more unique, because of its history.

As we prepare for communion, I want to read 1 Corinthians 11:23-28 23 For I received from the Lord what I also passed on to you: The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread, 24 and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.” 25 In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.” 26 For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.

27 So then, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord. 28 Everyone ought to examine themselves before they eat of the bread and drink from the cup. 29 For those who eat and drink without discerning the body of Christ eat and drink judgment on themselves.

As we remember Christ and examine ourselves, you will find that you are broken. We all make mistakes, we stumble, we fall short. We carry regrets, remorse for words spoken or actions taken. We feel the weight of our imperfections. But the amazing grace of Jesus is like that gold in Kintsugi. It doesn't erase our brokenness, but it redeems it. It fills the cracks, mends the shattered pieces, and transforms us into something even more beautiful than we were before.

The apostle Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:17, "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!" This communion, this meal we share, is a powerful reminder of that new creation. It's a symbol of God's unwavering love and forgiveness, freely offered to each of us, broken as we are. It’s a chance to experience that golden mending, to be strengthened and renewed.

As we partake in this communion, let us come to him, broken and weary, knowing that his grace is sufficient, that his love heals, and that he makes all things new. Let us receive his gift of forgiveness and be transformed, like a piece of Kintsugi art, into something beautiful and strong, bearing the marks of our journey, but made whole by his love.

Truth or Love

Has anyone ever played the fun and lighthearted game “Truth or Dare”? It’s a great way to learn more about each other. If you choose truth, you have to answer honestly. If you choose dare, you take on a silly challenge. As I’ve grown older, I’ve realized that life often feels like a different version of this game—one I’d call Truth or Love.

This past week, I found myself in a round of “Truth or Love” with a family member I only see about once a year. His anger toward people with opposing political views can sometimes feel overwhelming. With the upcoming inauguration, he must have been triggered because he sent me a message saying, “The last time I was in Ohio in August, I said, ‘If Ohio votes for Trump, I’ll never go to that awful state again.’” Except, he used a word even harsher than “awful.” He went on to state he didn’t think he would be coming to our reunion that he has attended for 48 years.

Hearing those words stung—not just because of our political differences, but because it felt like being right mattered more than loving family. I had a decision to make: Would I respond with truth, or would I choose love?

Some of my favorite scriptures helped guide me. Romans 12:18 says, “As far as it depends on you, make every effort to do what is right in the eyes of everyone and to live at peace with everyone.” In 1 Corinthians, we’re reminded, “Love is patient, love is kind… it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.” And in Ephesians 3:19, we’re told that “Love surpasses knowledge.”

So, I chose love. I reminded him that, in our family, we’ve always loved one another—regardless of what or how much we drink, smoke, eat, who we love, how many we love, or where we place our bets in life. We’re a very diverse and beautiful crew that has managed to come together consistently for 48 years! That simple reminder softened the tension. We ended up having a great conversation. In this case, sharing my “truth” would have only stirred the pot. Choosing love kept the peace, and I hope it continues to allow us to share life with one another.

When we look at the cross, we’re reminded that Jesus also chose love. He never shied away from the truth, but He used it wisely—never as a weapon. In His life, and especially in His death, Jesus showed us how to balance truth and love perfectly.

As we come to the cross and examine our hearts, we face a similar challenge. The fact is, we play “Truth or Love” with ourselves every day. The truth is, we don’t deserve forgiveness so we risk being overly critical and judgmental of ourselves. But God’s love is so great that He gave His Son for us. Truth and love meet in the messy middle—where grace abounds and allows us to win. I pray we accept His grace, instead of living in cycles of guilt and despair. His love transform us.

So this week, as we take communion, let’s reflect on the love that surpasses knowledge. Let’s thank God for showing us that love isn’t about choosing sides—it’s about choosing Him.