My lovely wife often gives me tasks to perform, which are, frankly, beyond my poor ability to execute. This, of course, is because her intelligence, fortitude, compassion and energy outdistance mine by an alarming degree. Nevertheless, with the bar raised high, I continue to strive, trailing behind, yet determined to move ahead as God in his mercy gives me the strength to do so

Today's assignment is no exception. "We want a message that deals with all of life's problems and difficulties in such a way as to provide inspiration and hope no matter what a person may be dealing with. Moreover, try to keep it to fifteen minutes at the most." Just a small assignment, no problem! However, let me put a positive spin on this for the sake of marital harmony and bliss. It is very flattering to think that she has such confidence in my poor abilities. For, quite frankly, I am as weak, befuddled, flawed and needy as the next person.

I know of only one way to even begin to address this task, that is both inclusive of various traditions and yet substantive as well. At the outset, I would like to share with you what I have come to understand as three basic propositions about reality that are collectively understood by the vast majority of the world's great religious traditions. However, as I do this, let me also say that I do so as a committed Christian. This is what I am, and while I do not presume to speak for other traditions, I do appreciate what we have in common-commonalities that I am convinced are no accident or coincidence.

The first is this: While it seems to us, on an everyday level as we live our lives in all their ups and downs, that the world we see around us, creation as we call it in Judeo-Christian tradition, is what is real because we can see it, experience it, and indeed because we live in it. What is nevertheless even more real is the unseen, eternal, unchangeable spiritual power that transcends it. Whether you are referring to Abrahamic religions of the West and Middle East, or the religions of India and the Far East, or whether you refer to it as God or by another term, this reality is even more real in the sense that it is eternal, unchanging and ever present.

The second is this: That in all the great wisdom traditions, it is affirmed that we have the ability to not only become aware of this eternal, spiritual reality, but that, difficult as it is, we can be taken up into it and participate in it. Our lives, deep within, can connect to the life of God in a profoundly experiential way. This is not a matter of speculation, assertions that exist only in our heads. Rather, it's a matter of the heart-the heart of us flawed, limited and often confused and suffering human beings connecting to the reality and life of God-the eternal source of life.

Thirdly: That as we come to a deeper awareness of the presence of God in our lives and in our hearts that this is life changing in the sense that we not only find a source of strength and life beyond ourselves, but that this source of life, experiential as the present form of compassion and love, transforms us into people who realize that the meaning of life resides in living for others, in sacrificing for others, in giving ourselves to a life of service that benefits and makes a positive difference in the lives of those who need our compassion, our love and our passion for justice.

You may have heard the following story of a Buddhist monk. One day, a man came to him who had accomplished many great things. He was a warrior, a leader, and a man of great wealth and power. He was much like the author of the Hebrew Book, Ecclesiastes, describing himself to be the rich man in Jesus' parable who took his ease, feeling safe and secure in all that he had. "Now that I have accomplished all that I set out to in life," he said, "I have come to you to learn about God." The monk was very gracious inviting him to enjoy for a cup of tea. However, as he poured his tea, he didn't stop when the cup was full. He kept on pouring so that the tea ran down over the table, the floor, until the man said, "Stop! The cup is too full to contain any more tea." The monk replied, "This cup is like your heart. It is so full of so many things, it has no room for God."

In a general sense, what the monk was addressing is the fact that if we are to come to a vital and life-giving spiritual connection to God, the source of life, strength, hope and love, we need to make room in our hearts. This is often what is so difficult when it comes to cultivating a vital spiritual life-an open heart.

There are many reasons for this. What they are for you and what they are for me may differ. Nevertheless, the problem we all share when it comes to an experience of the presence of God, to spiritual growth or an increasing awareness of God's presence in our lives is not that God is somehow inaccessible. It's that we have in many ways closed our hearts so that it is not possible for God to enter therein and bless us with all that comes from an experience of divine presence.

Because I need to relate this to the problems of living in uncertainty, pain or grief-whatever the source-let me suggest the following. Difficulties of all kinds whether they are related to a physical problem or not, have an effect on our hearts. A cancer diagnosis creates fear. The loss of a loved one creates grief. When someone close to us abuses our trust, we can become bitter and disappointed. Whether we're dealing with fear, despair, resentment or sorrow-what is common here is that our hearts are in need of healing. For this we need a source of healing.

My experience-both with myself and in my ministry with others-has taught me that there is both bad news and overwhelmingly good news to share about this. The bad news is that being human, fear, despair, resentment and so forth is part of life. Living, in a not so perfect world, and being human-this is the way it is.

On the other hand, the good news is that we do not have to get stuck in fear, despair resentment etc. These experiences are what I would like to call-symptoms of our brokenness. At such times, our hearts can either close in around our pain, thus holding on to it, or they can be opened up to a source of healing that lies beyond ourselves. Symptoms of a closed heart are denial-"I'm not suffering. I'm just fine. I'll put up a good front and stuff all those painful realities into the deep recesses of my soul."

This unfortunately does not solve the problem. It leads to addictions of all sorts-ways to numb the pain. It leads to self-centeredness-feeling so needy that we can't function. It leads to chronic anger and bitterness so that we come off as people who have hearts of stone and complain incessantly. In short, we become victims of our own pain and slaves to its effects on us. Most tragic of all, a closed heart cannot experience the mysterious yet very real presence of God. For God comes to us in so many ways-the compassion of others, the beauty of nature, and spiritual exercises such as prayer, worship and sacraments.

The author Marcus Borg refers to the above as the "thin" places in life-the places where reality thins out in such a way that the presence and power of God becomes transparent.

I offer no answer to pain. However, I am convinced beyond a shadow of doubt that our painful moments can be an occasion to reach out in a deep way to the presence of God. An open heart does not cease to feel the pain of life, but neither is it defeated and victimized by it because an open heart seeks inner healing from the abiding mercy, compassion and love of a spiritual presence that offers us strength, courage, hope and victory.

In our Gospel text, Luke 17:11-19, Jesus, he was one of those transparent places where the presence of God was clearly experienced. He asked the paralyzed man if he wanted to be healed. We all need to ask ourselves that question during difficult times. Do I want to be healed? Or do I prefer to live in the brokenness and pain. Do I wish to experience a re-birth of hope, courage and love? If so, I need to seek God in all those transparent places, that God provides. As I already said, there are many. All we need to do is to be open to receiving them for they are a gift. One English poet, a man plagued by addiction to drugs all his life portrayed this in a poem entitled "The Hound of Heaven". In this poem he describes the God who wishes to enter my heart.

This does not take away the pain, the fear or the grief. But it does give us the strength, fortitude, courage and support we need so as not to become victims of it. You will find a road to healing-healing of your heart even when your body is broken-through an open heart to God.

Finally, let me say that seeking and experiencing God as God comes to us in those transparent places, the love and support of others, spiritual disciplines like prayer and reading of scripture, even something so common as a beautiful flower. All this leads to the transformation pointed to in all the great religious traditions. For when we are spiritually connected to God in our hearts, we can let go of bitterness and forgive; we can face fear with courage, we can hope instead of despair; and we can learn to give ourselves to others in service and compassion.

This last one is the most transparent sign that the presence of God resides in you and in me. For God gives us divine life that overcomes the disaster of suffering and divine love that overcomes the vortex of our bitterness and anger so that we can give ourselves to others. We must never underestimate what a huge difference we can make in the lives of our loved ones, our community and our world when we are empowered to serve our fellow broken brothers and sisters in love and compassion. We ourselves, as God abides in us, become one of those transparent places where others can experience the eternal source of life and love.

All of us, who have opened our hearts to God in the midst of pain, are, to use a phrase from Henri Nouen, "Wounded Healers." "The life centered on God is about a new heart, an open heart, a heart of flesh and compassion."

May the Lord so bless each of us that we may be a blessing to others.

Amen.