ACHY, BREAKY HEART

 An Hasidic folk tale tells the story of a Rabbi who is asked the following question by a pupil concerning Deuteronomy 6:6 -- "And these words which I command you this day shall be upon your heart." "Why," asked the pupil," is it said this way? Why are we told to put these words upon our heart? Why are we not told to place them in our heart?"

To this the Rabbi answered that it is not within man's power to place divine teachings directly in his heart. "All we can do is place them on the surface of the heart so that when the heart breaks, they will drop in."

God never forces himself upon us. God makes himself aware of his presence. And that presence bears upon us. But there is never any forcefulness on God's part to make his will and his ways our will and our ways. God is simply like the lover who hangs around waiting for us to open up, or, in the Rabbi's words, for our heart to open up.

But as the Rabbi intimates, our heart often only opens up to God when it has been broken. A heart that does not ache, that feels no pain, is not likely to be open to anyone, even God.  But where there is an ache, there is an opening. The pain is symptomatic of a deeper hurt. But to get to that deeper hurt, we first have to acknowledge the ache, the pain, in our heart. And that is not as easy as it may seem or sound. For if you are like me, you and I are very adept at refusing to admit that we hurt, whatever the hurt. Yes, we like sympathy; but we have also been trained to gut it out.

Admitting that we are in pain, that we ache and hurt, is a sign of weakness, so we are told. But that is not true. It is a sign of strength. It is only in our weakness that we are made strong. It is only through our recognition that we can't go it alone or do it alone or even suffer alone that we become strong. Jesus cried.

Yes, even the Son of God had to have his heart broken -- by disciples who would rather sleep than support him in his hour of need, by family that would rather laugh at his "foolishness" than love him for who he was, by friends who deserted him rather than desired to be with him at the last. And into that broken heart came the strength and love of the Father.

For strength comes from not just inner fortitude but from others. But for others to get into our hearts and lives, we have to open up to them. And that opening comes in and through the heart. Others, like God, lie on the surface of our heart, waiting for an opening, even if only a slight crack. And when the crack appears, they rush in to help us ease the ache and pain.

It is only when we finally realize that we need another that we open up. Why we wait until we are in so much pain to do so is beyond me. But we are in charge. We control our heart.  It is comforting to know that God and others are hanging around, if you will, waiting for the opening in our hearts. But that seems such a waste, doesn't it, especially when they could already be in there.