a worthwhile read

I just finished Tim Keller's book, The Reason for God, in which he outlines answers to major objections to the Christian faith, alongside a robust defense for the Christian worldview as the perspective that makes the most sense of reality. This isn't your typical "facts of history and science" approach, though there is certainly some of that. Rather, Keller takes what I think is a more thorough and ultimately more winsome approach to explaining Christianity.

The first half of the book focuses on seven major objections that are common in our culture For example, Keller devotes chapters to questions such as "How can a good God allow suffering?" and "Hasn't science disproved Christianity?" He deals with these questions on all fronts, offering not only scientific or historical evidence where appropriate, but also sound philosophical, logical and moral arguments, appealing to the deeper presuppositions that often underly our more superficial objections. His main assertion is that the objection to the "blind faith" of the Christian is ironic because we actually all put our faith in something. Many of our beliefs about the nature of reality are actually based upon blind belief in other fundamentals. So, Keller would argue that the Christian faith is actually the most reasonable and consistent explanation for the way the world works. It is not a "blind leap," even as many of its claims can not be proved beyond all doubt. Rather, as he argues in the second half of the book, God has given us an abundant number of clues that point to him and his overarching story. His explanation of the biblical perspective on ultimate reality is clear and compelling. You just may find many of your stereotypes against Christianity disarmed as you sort through his humble yet bold arguments.

I would commend this book to anyone, whether a mature Christian or an unsure skeptic. Keller's is one of the best voices of our day to speak for the Christian faith, as he embodies the paradox of a truly humble, gospel-changed heart that can hold forth biblical truth with love and conviction, not sacrificing an ounce of either.

the simple life, part 4

And finally...the last installment in my series on simplicity. After lingering for probably too long on this, I finally wanted to springboard once more off of Foster and talk about the outward manifestations of this discipline. As I've said all along, the inward reality is the foundation and thus the first thing to cultivate. However, of course this must actually make a difference in real day-to-day habits. Surely one wouldn't cultivate an inward spirit of simplicity, a humble trust in the Lord, and then just follow after every material whim the culture spins out. So, I just wanted to share Foster's list of suggestions here for some guidance in outward simplicity. This list is by no means exhaustive, nor is it a set of strict biblical rules. It's merely intended to create some guiding principles. Hopefully you will find it as helpful as I have. As with any spiritual discipline, if we are cultivating a deep intimacy with God in Christ, then we will be equipped by the Spirit to discern the best ways to respond to the challenges of any given time and place, just as He equips us to do all to the glory of God and in freedom rather than a spirit of legalism.

1) Buy things for their usefulness rather than their status. We spend exorbitant amounts of money simply trying to impress people we don't even know (and maybe don't like!). Being somewhat utilitarian in our approach to purchases doesn't mean we have to entirely neglect aesthetics, expression, etc. But it certainly wouldn't hurt to cut our spending drastically on passing fads and fashions simply to impress people.

2) Reject anything that is producing an addiction in you. The search for simplicity is a quest for freedom. This is most fundamentally an inward freedom (hence my previous 3 posts). But we are addictive creatures because we are worshipers. So this can happen with small things (coffee perhaps?) or bigger things (sex, drugs) or even deeper things (approval, power). True freedom means being a slave to none of these things and only to Christ. Look around our culture, or even at your own life, and you'll see addictions everywhere. I see them in my own every day! As Foster says, "watch for undisciplined compulsions."

3) Develop a habit of giving things away. I'm especially terrible at this one. I am a pack rat through and through. And of course, I'm selfish. I keep things I don't need "just in case" I may want to use it again some day. This is a compulsion worth fighting! On one hand, this is good because it simplifies our life - more stuff means more complexity! But even moreso, it will help us cultivate a sacrificial life - giving up in order to give to others.

4) Refuse to be propagandized by the custodians of modern gadgetry. In other words, be skeptical of advertising and marketing and its many promises (if you read this, Jason, don't hit me!) So much stuff is being made and ad firms being created to try to sell that stuff to people who don't need it, while the creation wastes away and people go hungry. Most of the needs that advertisers press on inside us cannot be met by material things. (See the "Gospel of Consumption" article I linked to last month.) I actually feel like my well-being will increase when I imagine myself at a helm of a brand new iBook, but really....really?

5) Learn to enjoy things without owning them. As Foster puts it, "If we own it, we feel we can control it; and if we can control it, we feel it will give us more pleasure." Oh the glory of the library I never use! The beauty of the public parks that I ignore! The enjoyment of trading a good book or album with a friend....on and on.

6) Develop a deeper appreciation for the creation. Indeed, we have much more in common with the dust and the birds than with the gadgets we tend to worship. God made us from the dust. Could we not connect with him more deeply if we cultivate a deeper love for his handiwork in all its magnificence?

7) Be skeptical of "buy now, pay later" schemes. American is learning this the hard way now with all of the mortage foreclosures. Debt truly is a deep bondage. We should be very, very careful to take on only what is necessary.

8) Obey Jesus' instructions about plain, honest speech. This seems like a bit of a tangent off the main topic of simplicity, but is it really? This is about a holistic simplicity, and simple speech is but one aspect of that. As Foster says, we would do well to "make honesty and integrity the distinguishing characteristics of [our] speech." True simplicity means letting your yes be your yes and your no be your no.

9) Reject anything that breeds the oppression of others. This requires passionate discernment and a tenacious fight against our own tendency toward apathy. Foster asks great questions: "Do we sip our coffee and eat our bananas as the expense of exploiting Latin American peasants? In a world of limited resources, does our lust for wealth mean poverty for others? Should we buy products that are made by forcing people into dull assembly-line jobs? Do we enjoy hierarchical relationships in the company or factory that keep others under us? Do we oppress out children or spouse because we feel certain tasks are beneath us?" No simple answers here - but a willingness to search out these answers and respond rightly is what's important.

10) Shun anything that distracts you from seeking first the kingdom of God. Here I would perhaps change his wording slightly. Because we are worshipers and sinners by nature, we often are distracted from true worship by having a love for good things that is disproportionate to our love for God. Some times we must shun even good things to reorient ourselves rightly and wholly toward God. But often we must simply put those things back in their rightful place. For example, I love music. At times, this love becomes idolatrous and I can make it something that draws me to God, when really Christ is the only mediator of God's presence. At these times, I usually need to repent and put music back in its rightful place in God's creation - good, but not essential. At times, I have had to abstain from music entirely, but this is not usually the case.

There is much more that could be said on this topic. John Piper's thoughts on living a "wartime lifestyle" (see his great book, Don't Waste Your Life) add another important dimension to the table. But here I will stop. I hope this has been a helpful exploration for you. May we all find our needs abundantly met in Christ, who gives us rest from our endless strivings and the frantic pace of our modern world.

Shalom.

a ridiculous attempt

In a time of reflection today, I was struck by the sheer vastness of the term "God's glory" and my inability to wrap my mind around it. It's something that can't really be described or boiled down, yet it is inescapable in life. All of our experiences contain quiet echoes and faint allusions to it. During this thought process, I came across a question: how would you describe God's glory to someone with no experience with Christianity or the Bible? That's a great question. So here was the feeble attempt that somehow came out of me this morning:


What is glory? It is the vastness of an ocean spread to infinity before your eyes. It is the peace of bright green hills rolling and unfolding into a deep blue sky. It is the slow, terrifying movement of the Mississippi, unwinding endlessly in its journey, dividing the land and veiling the merciless tumult beneath.

Glory is the resolved and purposeful march of the ant as it relies on wisdom more unswerving and trustworthy than any we have known. It is the majestic strength and resilient poise of the lion, the cunning speed of the cheetah. It is the stable loyalty of the canine who disarms you with with his profound love. It is the splendor of a good an victorious king bearing news of peace and holding forth hope when it had seemed all but lost. It is the immovable safety of that king's castle and the tested might of the city walls.

Yes, and more. Glory is the assurance of a well-timed and wise word as it breathes meaning back into your soul. It is the illuminating phrase of the poet, the resonant laughter of the comic, the quiet resolution of the tragedy. It is the lift of a soaring melody over a steady march, the lilting sway of a slow waltz, the trumpet call of an anthem and a perfect cadence out of chaos.

Yet further, though words are increasing in their inadequacy. It is the fierce pursuit of a friend who pulls you out of the mire time and again. It is the untapped reservoir of his persistence to see you through, the heart-felt relief at his mouth closed, ears and arms open wide. It is the anticipation of shared joy and pain, of understanding and being understood.

I hesitate to press on. But it is still more. It is the enfolding warmth of a lover's embrace. Here my words are faltering... The joyful abundance of her smile, the epic and fearsome story in her eyes, the thrilling touch of her skin and the bold wonder of bodies entwined. It is the ecstasy of this union and the profound fear of rejection mingling with the plea for acceptance. It is the uncertain but proved trust in her faithfulness. It is the brilliance and beauty of beholding the life that came forth from this oneness, the the sweet speechlessness in its presence.

Yes, glory is the truth of life to come and a world made right. It is the mystery of love. Food in every mouth and justice in every hand. This all is glory, yet it is still much more. We have tasted, we have seen, but we know not the slightest of the fullness, the greatness, the sturdiness of this anchor of all things.

the simple life, part 3

We're moving toward the practical realm here, and I think there are some worthwhile Biblical reflections that will help us to get from the inward to the outward. There is a danger in cultivating any spiritual discipline, but I think especially this one, that we will lean toward overly pietistic forms. It would be quite easy to think about Jesus' commands to seek the kingdom and his righteousness with a sort of aloof, esoteric spirituality. We could take this command to basically mean we need to get out of the world, away from all of the distractions of the physical realm, alone with God to seek His kingdom. But this would be in direct contradiction to the teaching.

In the search for simplicity, we must guard against the dangers of Gnosticism that have been prevalent for ages. Gnosticism is the basic idea that the physical world is evil, and that true spirituality is only attained by disconnecting ourselves from it. With this view, seeking the kingdom might become nothing more than a perpetual monastic retreat. However, while retreat is a part of true spirituality, it is not the full extent of it. We must remember a few things:

1) That God created this physical world, and called it very good. Creation is, as John Piper says, "God's glory gone public." God has a passion and love for the material world. It is intended to point us to his glory by all of its awesome majesty, pleasures and beauty. (Genesis 1, Romans 1)

2) That God originally blessed mankind's relationship with the created order, setting him as steward over it, and calling him to cultivate it and use the stuff of creation to make a human culture that would reflect the glory of the Creator. (Genesis 1-2)

3) That it is our sin that has distorted the original goodness of the created order. Genesis 3 shows us that the immediate result of the first sin was a disruption of man's relationships - with God, one another and creation itself. Now the world is falling apart, and we inherently abuse and serve the created things rather than the Creator (Romans 1). Our use of the material world for twisted ends is not due to the inherent evil in it, but the evil in us.

4) Christ is the ultimate "Amen!" to the goodness of God's creation. God comes to us "in the flesh," fully entwined in the grit of physical reality. Christ displays for us in his Incarnation the restoration of man and his relationship to the material world. God cared enough about his creation that he willingly entered it and lived a life in it.

5) That God's redemptive purposes extend to the entire creation. He is at work not to bring us into some fluffy heaven where we all float around in a happy spirit land, but instead he works to renew the entire creation and make it once again very good. He will restore all of the brokenness that we have wrought on the physical world. (Isaiah 11, Revelation 21)

This is all important because it provides important perspective for how we should "seek the kingdom and his righteousness." Part of this seeking will of course involve retreat and separation from the confusion of the world. We must get before the face of God and seek to have our eyes opened to him in all of his glory. But we must also seek to bring the reality of the restored creation (aka. the kingdom) into the real world. This cannot be done by forsaking all things material. Instead, part of displaying the kingdom means displaying a right relationship with the material world. We show what it looks like to enjoy created things, but without our very life depending on having them. We show the world what kingdom stewardship looks like, using the material things to cultivate a beautiful culture that reflects God's glory. Any desert retreats should be for the purpose of drawing us back to this God-given work. So let us not seek to escape the "burdens" of the real world, but instead seek to restore the right and God-intended balance to our relationship with it. This must be done in community with our fellow man and with deep reflection on God's redemptive purposes in Christ.

the simple life, part 2

To continue my thoughts on simplicity in a consumer culture, I’d like to spend one more post examining the inward part of this discipline before discussing what it looks like outwardly. I left off last time discussing the need for a “kingdom-first” mentality. This, I agree with Foster, is the core principle here. Listen to how emphatic he is on the matter:

Focus upon the kingdom produces the inward reality, and without the inward reality we will degenerate into legalistic trivia. Nothing else can be central. The desire to get out of the rat race cannot be central, the redistribution of the world’s wealth cannot be central, the concern for ecology cannot be central. Seeking first God’s kingdom and the righteousness, both personal and social, of that kingdom is the only thing that can be central to the Spiritual Discipline of simplicity.

The person who does not seek the kingdom first does not seek it at all. Worthy as all other concerns may be, the moment they become the focus of our efforts, they become idolatry. To center on them will inevitably draw us into declaring that our particular activity is Christian simplicity. And, in fact, when the kingdom of God is genuinely placed first, ecological concerns, the poor, the equitable distribution of wealth, and many other things will be given their proper attention.

This point is worth considerable reflection as we face the oppressive force of a society bent on endless consumption, boundless “growth” and individual success. There are many arguments for what will actually cause change in our society. What Foster is arguing is ultimately that redirected worship, which happens first individually and then has communal implications, is the only hope for lasting change. Given this fact, he also points out that it is possible to exhibit outward signs of simplicity without actually having it in spirit, which will ultimately lead to breakdown.

So how do we know if we are cultivating the inward reality? There is certainly no fool-proof way to be sure, but there are major things we can observe. Foster points out from the same passage we’ve been discussing (Matthew 6:25-33) that the primary sign is a freedom from anxiety. Jesus calls us to seek the kingdom first, and our worries are then put aside because we trust God to provide what we need. Here are three aspects of this freedom from anxiety*:

1) We receive everything we have as a gift from God. “What we have is not the result of our labor, but of the gracious care of God.” How absent this spirit is from our society! How absent I find it in my own heart! We strive hard because we think we must provide everything for ourselves, not trusting God to take care of us. Then we have pride because we “earned what we have.” This is counter to seeking the kingdom.

2) We trust God to take care of and protect our possessions (and other things, ie. our reputation). When we are truly seeking the kingdom, we know that our Father will take care of everything else. We still can take normal precautions such as locking the door, but we know it’s ultimately God who cares for us. And if something should happen, which is certainly possible, we know that God will care for us even in that. We no longer fret over maintaining and protecting everything we have.

3) We have our goods (and ourselves) available to others. “If our goods are not available to the community when it is clearly right and good, then they are stolen goods. . . We cling to our possessions rather than sharing them because we are anxious about tomorrow.” When we no longer fear for our provision and protection, and entrust it to God, then we are free to share and give freely and generously.

(*These are taken from Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster)

This is the inward spirit worthy of cultivation at any time, but most especially in our day and age. The world needs deeply well people to deal with deep-seated problems. How will you face the consumer ills of our time? What are you seeking? I'll look more at some outward manifestations of this in my next post on the topic. But it is the inward that must come first.

the simple life, part 1

The “Gospel of Consumption” article I discussed in my last post has been part of a larger stream of thought for me this month. As we live in this consumer culture, I believe we find a war of sorts going on inside of us – a war of desires. On one hand, having bought into this consumer gospel, we consistently live according to its doctrine: the more you buy, the bigger the house, the nicer the appliances, the happier you will be. Yet, we also consistently find that this doesn’t actually prove to be true in reality. Then, when we look around at all of our accumulated stuff, we begin to hate it because all it really does is complicate our lives and give us more to worry about, more to maintain. So at the very same time that we desire more, we also find in ourselves a strong desire for less. We hunger for a simpler life that is not spent maintaining all of the things that don’t actually make us any happier.

This desire for simplicity is no secret. In fact, it seems to be a fairly consistent theme in the films and literature of our culture. Films such as Fight Club and, more recently, Into the Wild, explore the depths of this human desire and potential responses to it. Songwriters such as Jeff Tweedy (Wilco), Thom Yorke (Radiohead), Bono (U2) and Jay Farrar (Son Volt) regularly explore the emptiness of a consumer culture and identity, while juxtaposing it against the deeper spirituality inherent to us humans. Indeed, filmmakers and songwriters, who in many ways act as prophets of our day, regularly pit those two realities against one another. Is our identity what we own? Or is it something deeper? Something both simpler and more complex? We long for a life that finds its meaning not in what we own or in a successful career, but in the depth and security of our relationships (with God and others). We all know that the label on our jeans doesn't say anything about who we are, yet somehow we can't help defining ourselves this way. (It may be far more subtle, by the way. Do you drink Kaldi's Coffee, or Folgers? Shop at Wal-Mart or Whole Foods?)

Earlier this year, I finally had a chance to read what is widely seen as a classic of Christian spirituality: Celebration of Discipline, by Richard Foster. Although it was written 30 years ago, I found it to be profoundly relevant still today. The book focuses on 12 different spiritual disciplines, one of which being simplicity. It is there that I want to linger for a few posts. Foster’s explanation of this classic discipline is something we all desperately need to delve into for ourselves in order to find a center amidst the reckless pull of a consumer culture.

First, as a brief but important note: spiritual disciplines are not intended as means toward a relationship with God. In fact, they can only rightly flow out of a relationship that is already established. Discipline that is not empowered by a restored relationship with God, based upon faith in Christ, amounts only to hard legalism and works-based salvation. Our works don’t save us, Jesus does. And he is the one who enables us to grow in any discipline. Once that relationship is established, the disciplines are what many theologians have called a "means of grace," or a God-ordained way that we grow in and deepen that relationship. That’s a whole separate discussion, and an important one, but one I won’t go further into here.

Foster points out that with any discipline, there is both an inward reality (this begins with that foundational new life in Christ I just spoke of) and an outward reality. The former must come first, before any outward fruits. So with simplicity, we don’t want to just change our practices (ie. stop buying so much stuff), but first change inwardly. I want to spend this post and the next on the inward reality, and then the last on the outward manifestations.

So how would we cultivate this inward reality? Foster points to Matthew 6:25-33, where Jesus explains that we don't need to worry about having what we will need, for God will provide our needs if we simply "seek first His kingdom and His righteousness." This is the foundation for a simple life. The reality is that we will spend our lives in pursuit of something. That's how we are made - we all worship something, whether it's God or something else. The only way to true simplicity is to renounce these other gods (whether it be the latest gadget or anything else) and seek first God's kingdom and righteousness. This means that our day-to-day priorities are determined by God and not our own passing fancies. And surely if we hope to break out of our current stream, then we must have hope in a different one. The fact that Christ is Lord, and that His Kingdom is here now and will be fully here in time, gives us a totally different world view from which to work. To pursue this kingdom means seeking a place where the last are first, where possessions are shared, and where justice is established. It is a place much different from the one we know.

It’s easy to respond to the consumer culture with frustration and anger, and come up with many possible solutions. Like I said, many already do this in various ways within our culture. But, as Foster says, we need a “place to stand” in order to see true change within ourselves and in society as a whole. Seeking the kingdom is a reorientation of our desires and pursuits so that they are pointed toward the right place, and the only place in which they can be fulfilled. Could it be that the pursuit of contentment we see so freely at work in our consumption habits is actually a reflection of a deep desire to pursue something meaningful? What if we redirected that pursuit toward that which actually lasts? That is what Jesus is saying – don’t store up treasure where everything fades away, store it in a place that endures! Seek first the kingdom – my Father’s eternal kingdom! This isn’t a killing of our desires for happiness – it’s the only place they can be fulfilled. True, in seeking genuine simplicity, we will kill some of our desires and die to ourselves. Jesus said boldly, "Whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it." (Luke 9:24) So in the end we do not lose. What will remain is our life, more pure and full and human than we can possibly imagine from where we stand. So this must be the starting point for any journey toward simplicity. Only here are we free to look at our possessions and pursuits in a new light.

So what would this new pursuit look like? How might we bring Christ’s Lordship to bear in every area of our lives, both personally and publicly? How might we pursue his righteousness and make that our primary concern over what we have or what we think we need? These are good questions to chew on before moving forward with this discussion.

thy blood was shed for me

Although I love the Lenten season, I often find it difficult to actually observe it. In the end, I think it reveals how much restructuring my whole life needs, not just for this one season a year, but for every day. Not enough space is made for prayer. My ears are not open and my heart is not as attentive as it should be. I live like a frantic, worried soul when I should be at peace.

Richard Foster's book, Celebration of Discipline spoke deeply to me this week. Two of his chapters revealed to me what I lack (among many other things): simplicity and solitude. He refers to these as two of the outward disciplines, but stresses that the outward manifestation flows from an inward reality. "It is possible for a person to be developing an outward lifestyle of simplicity and to be filled with anxiety," he says. The inward must come first. This is what Lent should be about: a pursuit of the deeper inner realities of the Spirit-filled life; those realities that can only express themselves outwardly.

Strangely enough, all of that was simply an intro to what I am actually posting about. My point is that I am actively trying to observe Lent and go deeper, so here is something to that end.

I'll be teaching the song "Thy Blood Was Shed For Me" in church tomorrow. This is a somber and penitential hymn originally written by Charles Wesley and put to new music by Matthew Smith, one of my favorite modern hymn-writers. The melody is wonderful in its ability to capture the two sides of repentance the lyrics portray. First, we see our sin and grieve over it. But then, we leap in faith into Christ - casting our sins onto Him. So musically this works itself out beautifully. The start of each verse is low, quiet and sorrowful, a deep meditation on our poverty. But then the melody immediately soars like an insistent plea as the lyrics turn from sorrow over our sin to a surrender to Christ and his ability to cleanse us. My ability to describe it stops here - I can't begin to portray the arrangement in words. You can hear part of the song as Smith's website. Just scroll through the tunes on the main page.

It's a fitting melody, but ultimately it is the words that anchor a hymn in place. And these lyrics powerfully portray our situation both apart from Christ and in communion with him. Here they are in full:

Let the world their virtue boast and works of righteousness
I, a wretch, undone and lost, am freely saved by grace
Take me, Savior, as I am; let me lose my sins in Thee
Friend of sinners, spotless Lamb, Thy blood was shed for me
They blood was shed for me

Full of truth and grace Thou art and here is all my hope
False and foul as hell, my heart, to Thee I offer up
Thou wast given to redeem my soul from iniquity
Friend of sinners, spotless Lamb, Thy blood was shed for me
Thy blood was shed for me

Nothing have I, Lord, to pay nor can Thy grace procure
Empty, send me not away, for Thou knowest I am poor
Dust and ashes is my name, my all is sin and misery
Friend of sinners, spotless Lamb, Thy blood was shed for me
Thy blood was shed for me

That first verse is especially relevant to our Lenten journey. This is ultimately where we must go: seeing the depth of our lostness, we turn from self-boasting to see the breadth of Christ's fullness and we declare "Take me, Savior, as I am. Let me lose my sins in Thee!" In this season of the "Christian Passover" may we speak these words and know their truth: "Thy blood was shed for me."

ash wednesday, a day late

Yes I realize I am belated on this entry. I hoped to post it yesterday, but alas, these things are not always so simple! I wanted to initiate/invite some reflection for Ash Wednesday (yesterday), as we enter the season of Lent.

To state it briefly, Lent literally means "springtime." This is a fitting description, not because it falls on the transition from winter to Spring (at least in our part of the world), but because it paints a picture of new life. Lent has historically been a season of repentance and renewal for the church - a time of once again looking at oneself and to the sacrifice of Christ for a new sense of the unity offered by Jesus to his followers. This is a unity that places us in Christ fully - in His death and His resurrection. So we remember his call to die to ourselves, to "take up our cross and follow" him. But we also remember that through His conquest of death, we have the hope of new life, both in eternity and in small vignettes of the Kingdom here and now.

In other words, it is not merely a drab and morbid season of self-sacrifice and meditation on the sufferings of Christ. Rather, it is a time in which we take action to promote a greater unity with Christ in our own lives and those around us. So, yes, giving to the poor and fasting are fitting pursuits in this time. Through such acts we simultaneously cry to God for His life-giving love and faithfulness and we proclaim to our community the greatness of the Kingdom Christ brought in with his life, death and resurrection.

This 40-day sojourn (46 including Sundays) from Ash Wednesday through Good Friday, culminating in Easter Sunday, is my favorite season on the church calendar. As with all traditions, there is a constant danger of becoming legalistic or simply going through the motions. But when observed with a heart longing for a deeper sense of God's presence in our world, these times can bring great refreshment and renewed purpose. Holy Communion comes with a profound and vivid sense of vitality for me this time of year. I invite you to join with the church around the world in remembering the beautiful sacrifice and redeeming life of Jesus Christ. We shall all shout on Easter Sunday: "He is risen!"

I'll leave you with a simple poem from Oscar Wilde called "The Ballad of Reading Gaol":

And thus we rust life's iron chain
Degraded and alone
And some men curse, and some men weep,
And some men make no moan:
But God's eternal Laws are kind
And break the heart of stone.

And every human heart that breaks,
In prison cell or yard,
Is as that broken box that gave
Its treasure to the Lord,
And filled the unclean leper's house
With the scent of costliest nard.

Ah! happy those whose heart's can break
And peace of pardon win!
How else may man make straight his plan
And cleanse his soul from Sin?
How else but through a broken heart
May Lord Christ enter in?

Blessings to you this (day after) Ash Wednesday. May our hearts break, that He may enter in and heal them.