The Joy of Brokenness

Read these two verses slowly, because they run against everything in us.

For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones.

Isaiah 57:15 (KJV)

For thou desirest not sacrifice; else would I give it: thou delightest not in burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.

Psalm 51:16-17 (KJV)

The message is almost embarrassing in its simplicity: the high and holy God, who inhabits eternity, chooses to dwell with the person who is broken, contrite, and humble — the one who is not proud. He is not far off from that person; He is near. So we had better understand what brokenness actually is.

What brokenness is not

It is not merely weeping, though tears may come with it — you can cry a river and stay perfectly unbroken. It is not merely suffering something painful, though suffering can lead there — plenty of people suffer and are never broken. It is not even being wounded by tragedy, though tragedy may break a person — and yet many walk through disaster and come out harder, not softer. So brokenness is not something that simply happens to you. It is something else.

What brokenness is

So what does it mean to be broken, contrite, humble — to be “poor in spirit,” as Jesus put it? Someone once said it this way: to be broken is to make a decision to lay aside your own will, your own view, your own opinion, and to pick up God’s will, God’s view, and God’s opinion instead.

One good way to grasp it is to look at its opposite. To be unbroken is to feel that you are already whole, and to be convinced that the best possible outcome is always the one where you get your way — because deep down you believe your will is the wisest will in the room, and your way the best way.

And that cuts against how we normally think. We assume happiness means getting our way. We believe the one with the most wins — the most fame, the most fortune, the most power, possessions, and pleasure sits on top. But the Bible quietly suggests the reverse: if you actually want to enjoy your life, give up your way, give up your view, give up your opinion, give up your will. Be broken. And then — then — you will be happy. God promises to draw near and stay near to the one who chooses to be a broken vessel, who sets aside what looks best for himself in favor of what God says is best.

A working definition

So here is brokenness put plainly. Brokenness is the intentional shattering of my self-will, my self-view, and my self-opinion, so that the life and fragrance of Jesus can be released through me. It is a lifestyle of responding, over and over, in humility and obedience to the conviction of God’s Spirit and His Word. And because His conviction never stops, my brokenness cannot be a one-time event; it has to be continual.

Think of a horse that has been broken. It has not lost its strength; it has become surrendered and sensitive to the direction and wishes of its rider. That is the posture we are after: “Yes, Lord. Not my will, but Yours be done.”

And it moves in two directions at once. Vertically, it means living with the roof off toward God — walking in the light, in transparent honesty and humility before Him, with nothing between you and heaven. Horizontally, it means living with the walls down toward other people — open, reachable, unguarded, willing to be known.

Why it matters so much

Here is why this is not optional. God can only flow out of a broken vessel. In a vessel that stays intact, He stays trapped inside. But break the jar, and He leaks out — and the perfume fills the whole room and touches lives. Why is there so much pain and suffering in the world? In large part because there are simply too many unbroken people — too many jars still sealed, holding in what the world around them needs.

The Bible tells a story that makes this unforgettable. Jesus is eating at a Pharisee’s house when a woman known around town as a sinner comes in carrying an alabaster jar of ointment.

And stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment.

Luke 7:38 (KJV)

The host, Simon, judges her instantly — and judges Jesus for letting her touch Him. So Jesus tells him about two debtors, one owing much and one little, both forgiven, and asks which one will love more. The one forgiven more, Simon admits. Exactly. Then Jesus turns the light on the whole scene: Simon gave Him no water for His feet, but she washed them with her tears; Simon gave no kiss, but she would not stop kissing His feet; Simon gave no oil, but she poured out her ointment. “Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much.” One person in that room was broken. The other was not. And that difference decided which of them God could actually move through.

Two people, two sets of attitudes

Nancy Leigh DeMoss, in her book Brokenness: The Heart God Revives, draws out the contrast between the broken and the unbroken heart, and it lands right on top of Simon and this woman. Sit honestly with the picture she paints:

• Unbroken people are self-righteous and look down on others — Simon called the woman “a sinner,” as if he were not one himself. Broken people are more conscious of their own need than of anyone else’s.
• Unbroken people have a critical, fault-finding spirit; they study everyone else’s faults through a microscope and their own through a telescope, and they are especially quick to criticize those in authority. Broken people are compassionate, and forgive much because they know how much they have been forgiven.
• Unbroken people have to prove they are right and have to get the last word; they claim their rights and guard their reputation. Broken people are willing to yield the right to be right, and have a meek, self-denying spirit.
• Unbroken people want to be served and to be known as a success, quietly feeling the ministry is privileged to have them. Broken people are moved to serve, to make others successful, and are amazed God would use them at all.

• Unbroken people are wounded when others are promoted and they are overlooked; they are elated by praise and deflated by criticism. Broken people are eager for others to get the credit and rejoice when others are lifted up.
• Unbroken people are driven to protect their image and cannot bear for anyone to think them less than perfect. Broken people care more about being real than about being admired, and can live within God-given limits.
• Unbroken people cover up their sin and deal in generalities — “forgive me for all my sins.” Broken people can name it: “Lord, I confess I have a critical spirit; I am an angry parent.”
• Unbroken people are sure they don’t need revival, though everyone else clearly does — even now quietly making a mental list of who ought to read this. Broken people know they need a fresh encounter with God today.

DeMoss admits she was laughing as she wrote that last one, and honestly, so was I — because I caught myself making the list. That is the tell. The unbroken heart is always certain the real problem is someone else. It looks at everyone else through a microscope and never turns the lens around.

This one is yours to do

So how do we get there? Hosea gives the command, and notice the verb — it is something you do:

Sow to yourselves in righteousness, reap in mercy; break up your fallow ground: for it is time to seek the LORD, till he come and rain righteousness upon you.

Hosea 10:12 (KJV)

Notice who does the breaking. You can ask God for help — and you must — but brokenness is your work and mine, because it is finally an act of the will. No one else can surrender your will for you. Fallow ground does not plow itself. There comes a point where you stop waiting to feel broken and simply choose to lay yourself down.

So take a moment now and pray something like this: Lord, I recognize that I have been living as an unbroken person, and I thank You that You forgive and cleanse me — from the smugness, from the pride. I surrender everything to You, because I cannot do this in my own strength. I need Your grace to pursue a life of brokenness, and to overcome the pride that rises in me so easily from my own flesh. In Jesus’ name.