Imagine how you would feel if, at
the end of worship, the minister asked you to receive a benediction which began
like this:

            May all your
expectations be frustrated.
            May
all your plans be thwarted.
            May
all your desires be withered into nothingness.

You might not want to receive it,
and you might wonder, “Just what kind of benediction is this?”
Jean Vanier, who founded L’Arche
and has given his life to care for the developmentally disabled, once offered a
benediction which began with those surprising words.  They don’t seem, at first, to do what a
benediction is supposed to do, which is to bless the people of God with an
affirmation of God’s presence, to encourage them for their lives in the world,
to lift their gaze to the possibilities rushing into the present from God’s
future. 
Vanier’s words sound like a
description of life as it already is, instead of a promise of what life might
become.  Many people live too much of the
time with frustrated expectations, thwarted plans, and withered desires.  A lot of people know more than they want to
know about unfulfilled dreams, unrealized visions, and dashed hopes. 
As Thoreau said, “The youth gets
together his materials to build a bridge to the moon, or, perchance, a palace
or a temple on the earth, and, at length, the middle-aged man concludes to
build a woodshed with them.” 
When we let ourselves feel what
we really feel, we sense the pain of disappointment, the embarrassment of
unreached potential, and the shame of failure. 
These wounds alienate us from ourselves, isolate us from others, and
distance us from God.
If Vanier had only said, “May all
your expectations be frustrated, may all your plans be thwarted, and may all
your desires be withered into nothingness,” there would be no blessing in his
words.  But he also said: “That you may
experience the powerlessness and poverty of a child and sing and dance in the
love of God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”
It is a blessing to learn that we
are, in fact, powerless and impoverished—to know that we cannot create love or
generate meaning or manufacture hope or originate joy for ourselves.  We can only receive them as gifts from God
who sees us and cherishes us as children. 
There are some things our hard
work, our incessant striving, and our constant pushing cannot make happen; and
they are the graces we most want: forgiveness, acceptance, rest, freedom and
purpose. 
Learning about powerlessness and
poverty of spirit helps us to acknowledge, as Anne Lamott puts is, “the three
most terrible truths of our existence: that we are so ruined, and so loved, and
in charge of so little” (Help, Thanks, Wow.) 
Because we are so loved, and
because God, who does not cause our struggles, will work with us not to waste
them, there is blessing in the darkness, mercy in our brokenness, grace in our failure,
and courage in unwanted but unavoidable change.  There are good gifts wrapped in hard
circumstances.  There is a loving God who
meets us and sustains us in the desert of difficulty.