11. Simple Kintsugi
Today is 29 days from the first anniversary of Dad’s passing. I’ve committed to writing 40 stories about him as that day approaches. Forty Steady Stories.
After writing about Dad’s love for Mom last night, it’s fitting that I follow that story by writing about Dad’s faith. Disclaimer: If you are reading this and don’t consider yourself to be a religious person, that’s ok. I’m not a very religious person either. Read on to find out what I mean by that.
As I said at Dad’s funeral, his faith was simple. Sometimes that was hard for me to understand and process. In terms of faith, God, and the Bible, I’m from Missouri (the “Show Me” state). I want to know the why’s and the how’s.
Ironically, Dad settled in North Carolina, and his faith modeled the state motto: Esse Quam Videri — “To be, rather than to seem.” He was a WYSIWYG kind of person in terms of his faith. His faith was authentic and simple — not because he didn’t know or pursue depth, but because he just didn’t need a lot of proof. One of his favorite songs was “Jesus Loves Me,” and he held on to that truth his entire life.
In college and certainly later when I was in seminary, I would bring up topics like evil and suffering, hypocrites, and predestination. I was trying to make sense of my own faith and wanted to dig into the tough topics. Dad’s response was often a concise but kind, “Jesus loves me, this I know.” He didn’t need to go any deeper because he’d learned what the author Brennan Manning wrote in his book Ruthless Trust:
"Trust in God does not presume that God will intervene. Often trust begins on the far side of despair."1
Dad’s faith wasn’t perfect, but it was persistent. He sought God’s perspective through the Bible and trusted in God — even when the storms of life came. For anyone who thought his faith was simple because he had an easy life, I’ll mention just the physical struggles he had. We are talking about a man who was in the hospital for overnight stays and operations an average of every three years his entire life. From 5 operations for a kid with crossed eyes to fighting a brain/pituitary tumor the last 25 years of his life, he was a walking example of kintsugi — beauty in the brokenness.
Kintsugi, in case you don’t know, is the Japanese art of repairing pottery with gold or silver in the cracks instead of imperceptible glue. The metal highlights the cracks where glue might seek to hide the cracks. The idea is that the highlighted cracks make the piece more beautiful. Did you catch that? The highlighted brokenness makes it more beautiful! Would that we as people could be more like that pottery!
So, how does this “Jesus Loves Me” simple faith fit in with the art of kintsugi? Because my dad understood that we all, in this world, are broken and in need of a rescue. He trusted that Christ — out of His great love — was The Rescuer. It was, and is, that simple.
24 years ago, after the third operation in Charlotte for his pituitary tumor and before he had to be airlifted to Duke Hospital for the fourth operation, I walked in his hospital room silently to find him reciting Psalm 91 from memory. That psalm starts like this:
"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, 'He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.' "2
That was my dad, and such was his faith — simple kintsugi. Dad never lost sight of the truth that God is about restoring relationships, not reinforcing religion.
