Journey Beyond

‘Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the desert.’ (Luke 4:1 NIV)

‘Going on from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John. They were in a boat with their father Zebedee, preparing their nets. Jesus called them, and immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.’ (Luke 4:21-22 NIV)

Power, pleasure and pain

Today, vulnerability is a worldly anathema. For me, the mere sound of the word conjures up images of tender flesh that is moments away from some kind of pain. My immediate reaction to ‘intentionally’ being vulnerable, therefore, is a hasty ‘no’ and a rush to protect, secure and defend. This is also what most of the world does; relentlessly pursuing security and comfort in an ongoing attempt to avoid pain. So, I hardily want to write about vulnerability, much less practice it.

Vulnerability brings freedom

Christ’s invitation to us to surrender all and follow him is truly transformational. Jesus willingly goes into the desert. Taking nothing, eating nothing, and not knowing what to expect, his spiritual and physical vulnerability is acute.

When he emerges from the desert, he wastes no time in inviting James and John to be as vulnerable. Why? In his vulnerability, Christ experienced God as his protector in the face of great challenge and temptation. The experience that he was truly his Father’s Son set him free from needing to find his identity and security in the false wealth and power offered by the tempter. Christ offered this same freedom to his disciples immediately.

Vulnerability brings healing

To be vulnerable is to risk pain. The Cross, forty days of fasting, giving up job security, leaving family; these can be painful things - painful because these acts of vulnerability allow the ‘world to be kicked out of us.’ The willingness to endure this ‘holy pain’ frees us from the fear of earthly pain. As Jesus and the disciples show, willing journeys into vulnerability bring us the very security and comfort we so desperately seek. As St Paul knew so well: ‘When I am weak, then I am strong.’

The less I fear pain, the more open and present I am able to be. The more vulnerable I am, the more I am able to really feel the fullness of God and God’s creation - the inseparable agony and ecstasy of life.  The cross bears witness to this, as does every transformative painful experience we undergo. I am yet to experience a form of healing that is not painful in some way - be it through a needle or with a knife, on a physiotherapists table or dentists chair, or time on a counsellors couch or good friends shoulder.

Vulnerability brings unity

Vulnerability allows us to be more sensitive to the pain of others and hence, less likely to be the cause of pain ourselves. The compassion for our neighbours that comes from being vulnerable will bring us closer to each other, and much less likely to continue the harmful patterns that we are seemingly powerless to stop (ironically, the staggering pain caused by things like militarism and climate change are direct consequences of our inexorable pursuit of security and comfort). When we are vulnerable, we become dependent on others, as others become dependent on us.

ACTION POINTS: being vulnerable

1. Recall a painful moment or period in your life that had a positive outcome. Thank God for the transformation of that pain.

2. To practice vulnerability is, quite simply, to allow yourself to be vulnerable. Consider one area where you find false security - for many of us this will have to do with money and/or relationships. Hear Christ’s invitation to ‘come, follow me,’ and try surrendering this to Him, knowing that the Holy Spirit is ever near you as your protector and guide.

3. Practice vulnerability with someone. Consider someone you feel would benefit from you being more vulnerable and intentionally seek opportunity to practice vulnerability with them.