Kintsugi: Stories of Breaking, Blessing, Building

In Japan when a piece of pottery breaks // Instead of throwing it away, it is repaired // With lacquer and gold // Placed between the cracks to hold // All of the broken pieces together // Embracing and embellishing all of its brokenness // And seeing the blessing in the building something new // To restore // Rendering it more // Valuable than it was before // This art of breaking, blessing, and building is known as // Kintsugi. (Hear Glenn’s entire spoken work piece here.)

So, here’s the invitation

As you listen in on the offerings of this NEXT Church gathering, pay attention. Where are you experiencing brokenness in your own life? Where are you feeling it in your body? In what ways are you crying out to God? Where are you in deep need of God’s tender grace? God’s blessing? God’s hope? How are you being challenged and inspired to build anew? To be restored? How is the recognition of your own brokenness and need for God’s mercy shaping the way you enter into the building, engage in ministry and encounter others?

If we were in person, we would have gold body paint out and invite you to explore where it is in your body that you are holding brokenness. It doesn’t necessarily mean it is a bodily pain, but as an integrated people, we know that our bodies, our emotions, our spirits are interconnected. We cannot separate one from the other. Maybe it is in your back, for the weight you have been carrying. Maybe it is in your hands, for the weariness of grinding day and night. Maybe it is in your feet, for the years of marching and advocating for racial justice. Maybe it is in your eyes, for things you have seen and cannot unsee. Maybe it is in your mind, for the ways society has sought to break you down into thinking you are disposable. Maybe it is pain that you cannot explain.

Grab a photo of yourself or do this on your own body. Take some paint or a marker (it does not need to be gold) and draw some lines, as if you are putting the broken pieces back together. Write a bit about what this means for you. As you do so, we pray that the lines would be a reminder of God’s grace entering into the cracks, the wounds, to bring healing and hope. Like the art of Kintsugi, each of our stories is unique and to be honored, even in the brokenness. Our hope in the sharing of testimonies is that we will be reminded of our shared humanity and our shared need for God’s tender grace, and that it will ground us in humility and kindness as we work together in pursuit of God’s justice. Please share your stories and images at aloha@chopsueyroots.com and we will continue to update this online gallery and link to it via NEXT Church’s social media. Our deepest thanks for entrusting your stories to us and to one another. May we hold them in the sacredness that they are.

Kintsugi :: Unexplained Web.jpg
KIntsugi_Denise.jpg

My pieces are put back together with painter's tape, because I'm an artist and look forward to when my healing allows me to pick up brushes again.

I'm piecing back together not just my physical body, but the parts of me that old, outdated narratives kept from me. For too long, I've told myself that there are things I lack or am just not good at. I no longer accept those narratives. Not only do I not have a "brown thumb," but I can nurture life in soil and in everything (and everyone) else around me. I'm not "bad" with money, name memorization, or anything else; I may simply need to keep walking toward proficiency (not perfection) in these areas. I am determined to be my whole self.

- Denise

Kintsugi_Mathhias.jpg

I want to not look at another screen for a year.
I want to see my loved ones face to face.
I want to see God face to face.
I want to see justice with my own eyses.
I want to close my eyes for a long, long, long time.

- Matthias

Kintsugi_Casey.jpg

I have spent many years in the breaking process. In many ways it's how I self-identify. I see beauty in it. I still wish it were different at times. It can't be helped. I drew the gold predominantly outside of my body. But it's starting to seep in, to make something beautiful, different, and whole.

- Casey

Kintsugi_Felipe Martinez.jpg

I preach. 
I serve. 
But I am broken. 
What God is teaching us is that broken is not hopeless. 
Broken calls for grace. Broken testifies to grace. 
Grace washes over brokenness, not to erase its grief, but to mend it in love, in solidarity, in hope.
The Good News is not the easy answers, but the against-all-odds love from God.
We preach.
We serve.
Because we are broken.
Because we are loved.

- Felipe

Kintsugi_Mads.jpg

The imagery of Kintsugi is so powerful. Through these images our breaking, wounds are clear, seen and witnessed. In the very same moment, this art illuminates breaking places as spaces for grace, to receive God's compassion through words, acts of love, and presence from friends and strangers. One of the gifts of beginning to step down the path of anti-racism as a white person, is to embrace the fullness of my humanity, including ways of knowing that are not intellectual, but rather are physical and embodied. I'm realizing that my body has wisdom for me, if I just tune in and listen with a loving and gentle spirit. This exercise helped me to listen, to find the places of brokenness and offer something closer to my whole self, so that my whole self can also receive and know God's kindness.

- Mads

KIntsugi_Abigail.jpeg

Part of my breaking is my vision of the scales of my privilege in this world.

Part of my breaking is my voice and my jaw of when I feel I can’t or shouldn’t speak out.

Part of my breaking is how I think about my world, my community, and my home.

- Abigail

Kintsugi_Glenn.jpg

Covid-19 was no wake-up call
This alarm been going off
since Covid-1619
Some of y’all just been hittin’
the snooze button
Kinda sorta like
some of y’all were afraid
to lose something

- Glenn

sohn-mat and woori-01.jpg

sohn-mat // hand flavor

woori // us

KIntugi_Adele.jpeg

For so long they have been still
not because of the pandemic
but because they got tired of running.
They had tip-toed and tap-danced 
for a good long while
--longer--
until they were just done.
Do you know what I mean?

And then one day they just stopped.
Last spring, for a moment or two, 
they felt they finally had company
because so many others had stopped too.
Not that they ever wish anyone ill. At all.

 Slowly, carefully, God has been putting them back together,
gently easing their owner into standing,
bearing her weight again,
a little heavier in some places
and a little lighter in others,
wobbly at first, then settling.
Familiar and yet altogether new.
One step.
Another. 
Breath. 
OK.
Right foot, left foot,
It’s just how it goes.
Baby steps.
Who knew walking took such courage?

 No wonder the woman bathed his feet with her tears
and dried them with her hair.

Kintsugi_Darcy.jpg

My feet are broken and tired from walking the LONG road to racial justice and marching alongside the marginalized.

- Darcy

KIntsugi_Kathryn.JPG

I always smile
It’s who I am
It’s part of my theology of hope
But when I smile my eyes smudge up real small
And probably it’s harder to see reality

Here it is my messy, mom, I have 3 kids with varying disabilities and a tiny scrappy church ministry I love

And things look gray or silver depending upon the moment

This year broke me out in angsty prayers and cries to the heavens...and I’m grateful...and sad

But I remember Jesus took Bread, Broke it and Blessed it and Built Community upon it

I hope to Bless and Build in the midst of my brokenness. For I know wherever bread is broken, wherever we are broken. God is here. Blessing and Building in ways I can’t even imagine

- Kathryn

KIntsugi_Nicole.jpeg

Oh, I know what it is to break -
I have wearied of counting
how many times
in this earth-rotation
alone.

I can tell you why
but
I think
you know
I know
your brokenness
because of my own
when we look into each other's eyes,
no pixelation
can hide
our humanity
nor our hurting.

And, in the same way I know
deep in my bones
that God
is bringing forth good
that I may never see
to its full fruition
but it is good forming nonetheless,

I know that
a web is being spun out from this jagged center
and catching in it
those whose own stories resonate
vibrate at the frequency
of mine
sending signals,
even the gentlest,
back up the silvery threads
that connect us
so I feel
certain
that neither of us is alone

and surely this is blessing,
you on me
and
me on you
you in me
and
me in you.

Not today,
for we have not quite
gathered up enough of the pieces yet,
yours,
mine,
ours,
and undoubtedly God's,
but soon
we build
again,

sometimes calling upon our learning
to try new ways,
sometimes repeating old ways because
the pain was exquisitely worth it
for everything that came before,
sometimes experimenting
and deeply aware
that breaking anew is around the corner
anyway

and then
we will
break
bless
build
again.

- Nicole

Kintsugi_Kristina.jpeg

My braces remind me of my broken places.
The nerves remind me of the nerve
To listen
To sit in silence
To push with all my might

My disability
Gives me a new ability
To walk
In the in between
Uncomfortable
Painful places

My braces break me daily
My braces build me thoroughly
My braces, my legs are a blessing of survival
Of hope
Of pushing past the limits

-Kristy