A Place for the Broken

Growing up, I loved taking things apart. Sometimes it was because I wanted to figure out how they worked. Other times it was because they were broken, and I was convinced I could fix them. Looking back, I probably took apart a few things that weren't actually broken until I got my hands on them, but that's another story for another day.

What hasn't changed is my reluctance to throw broken things away. To this day, if something stops working, my first instinct is to put it on a shelf, in a drawer, or in a box somewhere because I believe I can fix it someday.

The funny thing is, I don't think this comes from some sort of savior complex. It's not that I think I can rescue everything. Instead, I think it comes from a belief that things still have value, even when they're broken.

When I repair something, my goal isn't necessarily to restore it to a perfect, like-new condition. My goal is to restore its purpose. A scratched tool can still build something. A worn piece of furniture can still provide a place to sit. Something doesn't have to be perfect to be useful.

Recently, I experienced this with an old Nintendo Game Boy. For years it sat in a box, tucked away and forgotten. It wasn't serving any purpose. The screen was worn, parts needed attention, and it certainly wasn't in the same condition it was when it was first opened. But I couldn't bring myself to all it to be discarded.

So I spent several hours restoring it. I cleaned it, repaired what needed repair, replaced worn components, and slowly brought it back to life. Today, it is fully functional again. What brought me joy wasn't that it looked brand new. It doesn't. What brought me joy was seeing it fulfill its purpose once more.

As I read Matthew 9, I can't help but see Jesus doing something similar with people. In this passage, Jesus calls Matthew, a tax collector whom many considered beyond redemption. He sits down to eat with sinners and outcasts. He reaches out to a woman who has suffered for twelve years. He takes the hand of a little girl whom everyone believed was gone forever and restores her to life.

Again and again, Jesus moves toward people others had written off. The religious leaders saw sinners. The crowds saw hopeless situations. Society saw broken people. Jesus saw value. He saw purpose. He saw beloved children of God.

Notice that Jesus wasn't looking for perfect people. He wasn't searching for those who had everything together. In fact, He says, "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick" (Matthew 9:12).

Jesus specializes in restoration. And like any good restoration project, His work is not always about returning us to some imagined perfect version of ourselves. It is about restoring us to the purpose for which we were created. He restores our relationship with God. He restores hope where despair has taken root. He restores dignity where shame has settled in.

Many of us carry broken places in our lives. We carry regrets, failures, wounds, disappointments, and scars. Sometimes we feel like that old Game Boy sitting forgotten in a box, wondering if our best days are behind us.

But Jesus sees us differently. He sees our value. He sees our purpose. He sees what we can become through His grace.

The good news of the Gospel is that there is a place for the broken in the kingdom of God. In fact, the broken are often the very people Jesus seeks out first.

So if you find yourself feeling worn out, overlooked, or beyond repair, remember this: Jesus has never been intimidated by brokenness. He has always been in the business of restoration.

And He isn't finished with you yet.

In God’s grip,

Pastor Chuck Church