帶著破碎來到上帝面前 Come with the feeling of brokenness

陳胤安牧師於二〇二六年十月十一日在聖馬田堂之講道

經課:出埃及記32.1—14,腓立比書4.1—9,路加福音10.1—9

A Sermon preached at St Martin-in-the-Fields on 11 October 2026 by Revd Yin-An Chen (Vicar of St Luke’s Whyteleafe)

Readings: Exodus 32.1—14, Philippians 4.1—9, Luke 10.1—9

當生活充滿不確定時,我們往往會抓住某些能讓自己安心的東西。

我們更努力工作,安排各種計畫,趁機會消失之前牢牢抓住它。我們試著打造一個不會再受傷的前景未來。

這一切背後,都有一份可以理解的渴望。我們希望自己平安,也希望所愛的人平安。尤其當我們曾經受過傷,我們就更想確保同樣的事不會再次發生。

但我們真的能建立一個「不會破碎」的人生嗎?當那些原本用來保護我們的東西,開始支配我們的生命,又會怎樣?

今天出埃及記的經文,帶領我們思考這些問題。

以色列人在西奈山下等候。摩西上了山,離開的時間比他們預期的更久。他們不知道他究竟發生了什麼事。

他們已經脫離奴役,未來卻仍然充滿不確定。他們自由了,卻看不清前面的路。

於是,他們要求亞倫為他們造神,好在前面帶領他們。

他們想要一個看得見、立刻就能依靠的神,一個可以帶在身邊的神。當他們無法讓上帝按照自己的時間出現,就動手為自己製造一個。

亞倫收集他們的金飾,鑄成一隻牛犢。

這個物件承載著他們的財富、心力和盼望,是他們一起塑造出來的。現在,他們望著自己所造的東西,宣稱這就是帶領他們離開埃及的神。

他們用親手製造的物件,取代了那位使他們真正得自由的上帝。

他們現在可以擁有金牛犢、可以掌握那一點點安全感。但很快地,在他們的敬拜中,金牛犢反過來佔據了他們的生命:現在金牛犢得到他們全心的投入,成為整個群體生活的中心。

我們或許也能在自己身上,看見類似的情況。

我們建立事業、累積存款、維護名聲,也建立各種組織網絡。這些都可以支持我們的生活,幫助我們服務他人。但我們也可能要求它們做到一件根本不可能做到的事:那就是「保證我們永遠不再脆弱、不再受傷」。

於是,我們開始服事和敬拜我們所建立的東西。

事業要求我們付出所有時間。名聲要求我們隱藏自己的掙扎。為了得到每個人的認同,我們無法坦誠說話。維護教會的好名聲,竟然變得比聆聽受傷的人更加重要。

因為害怕,我們抓得更緊。但抓得越緊,就越沒有空間容納真實、愛與恩典。

亞倫甚至宣布,要向上主守節。圍繞在金牛犢周圍,敬拜繼續進行。

這個細節值得我們深思。我們可以口中說著上帝的名字、假裝敬虔愛主,內心最深的信任,卻不是仰賴上帝。我們可以為醫治禱告,同時又暗暗期待每個人看起來堅強、快樂,彷彿已經康復。

但今天的醫治祈禱(包含傅油及按手的禮儀)邀請我們,帶著我們生命真實的樣貌來到上帝面前。

我們當中,有人承受身體的疼痛、疾病或疲憊;有人承受悲傷、焦慮或孤單;也有人因貧窮、歧視、虐待或背叛而受傷。我們可能仍記得,自己求助時,卻沒有被認真看待。

這些傷口並不表示我們的信仰失敗了。與疾病或身心障礙一起生活,也不會讓任何人失去完整的人性與尊嚴。

我們來領受上帝的力量與祝福,讓上帝帶領我們的生命,以及我們共同的人性,走向整全。

這份整全,不是讓我們變得不會破碎,也不是從此沒有傷口,更不是假裝破碎不存在。「整全」讓我們能夠帶著自己的破碎來到上帝面前,向恩典敞開。

我們不必封住每一道裂縫,也不必掩藏每一份傷痛。上帝的愛可以觸及那些我們不敢讓人看見的地方。即使有些傷口仍在,我們仍然可以接受照顧、找到歸屬,並在盼望中成長。

摩西的禱告,也朝著這樣的可能前進。

上帝揚言要毀滅百姓,並使摩西成為一個大國。摩西大可以抓住這個機會。他可以接受一個以自己為中心的未來,把這個難以相處的群體留在身後,讓上帝毀滅以色列。但他拒絕。

他反而為百姓懇求。他沒有說,他們的所作所為無關緊要。他訴諸上帝的應許,並提醒上帝,是上帝親自帶領他們脫離奴役。

以色列的失敗是真實的,他們與上帝的關係也產生破裂。但摩西堅持,他們的故事不能只由這一刻的失敗來決定。

經文中上帝憤怒的語言,令人不安。然而,這段經文也讓我們聽見一個抵抗毀滅的禱告,以及一位願意聆聽的上帝。原本宣告的災禍被撤回,百姓的未來仍然敞開。

這份敞開,對醫治十分重要。我們可以承認傷口,而不必宣告一切都已失去、或認為我們破碎不堪。我們可以誠實面對傷害,尋求保護、公義與改變。我們可以祈求醫治,而不要求 醫治必須照我們能掌控的方式臨到。

禱告與醫療、心理諮商、實際援助,以及忠實的陪伴,可以並肩同行。它們一起幫助我們更充實地生活,也領受自己所需要的照顧。

所以,在領受聖餐的同時,我邀請你們,帶著你的破碎感前來!

帶著你的恐懼、疲憊,以及渴望安心的心。帶著你緊緊抓住的,也帶著你害怕失去的。你不必先把一切處理好,才來到上帝面前。你也不必找到最合適的話語來解釋你的傷口。

當我們在禱告中彼此扶持,願我們的手能漸漸鬆開。願上帝的恩典,以愛充滿我們的破碎,賜我們力量去接受、並給予照顧,帶領我們一同走向整全。

阿們。


When life feels uncertain, we often reach for something that will make us feel secure.

We work harder. We make plans. We seize an opportunity before it disappears. We try to build a future in which nothing can hurt us.

There is an understandable longing beneath all this. We want to be safe. We want those we love to be safe. Especially when we have been wounded, we want to make sure it never happens again.

But can we build a life that is unbreakable? And what happens when the things we build to protect us begin to rule us?

Today’s reading from Exodus brings us into these questions.

The people are waiting at the foot of Mount Sinai. Moses has gone up the mountain, and he has been away longer than they expected. They do not know what has happened to him.

They have escaped slavery, but their future remains uncertain. They are free, yet they cannot see the way ahead. So they ask Aaron to make gods to go before them.

They want something visible and immediately available. Something they can carry with them. When they cannot make God appear on their timetable, they make something for themselves.

Aaron collects their gold and fashions a calf.

This object contains their wealth, their effort, their hopes. They have built it together. Now they look at what they have made and declare that it brought them out of Egypt.

An object created by their own hands takes the place of the God who liberated them.

They can possess the calf. But soon, through their worship, the calf possesses them: it commands their devotion and becomes the centre of their life together.

We may recognise something of this movement in ourselves.

We build careers, savings, reputations, and institutions. These can support our lives and serve others. Yet we can also ask them to do something they cannot do: guarantee that we will never be vulnerable again.

Then we begin to serve what we have built.

A career demands all our time. A reputation requires us to hide our struggles and even to set aside our authenticity. Keeping everyone’s approval means we cannot speak honestly. Preserving a church’s good name becomes more important than listening to someone who has been hurt.

We hold tighter because we are afraid. Yet the tighter we hold, the less room there is for truth, for love, or for grace.

Aaron even announces a festival to the Lord. Religious activity continues around the calf.

That is a searching detail. We can use God’s name while placing our deepest trust elsewhere. We can pray for healing while quietly expecting people to appear strong, cheerful, and already well.

But today’s liturgy invites us to bring the lives we actually have.

Some of us carry physical pain, illness, or exhaustion. Some carry grief, anxiety, or loneliness. Others bear wounds from poverty, discrimination, abuse, or betrayal. We may carry the memory of being dismissed when we asked for help.

These wounds are not proof of failed faith. Nor does living with illness or disability make someone less fully human.

We come to receive God’s strength and blessing, and to be drawn towards wholeness in our lives and our shared humanity.

This wholeness does not mean becoming unbreakable. It does not mean having no wounds, or pretending that brokenness does not exist. Wholeness allows us to bring our brokenness into the presence of God and remain open to grace.

We do not have to seal every crack or conceal every hurt. God’s love can reach the places we are afraid to reveal. We can receive care, discover belonging, and grow in hope even while some wounds remain.

There is a movement towards that possibility in Moses’ prayer.

God threatens to destroy the people and offers to make a great nation from Moses. Moses could seize this opportunity for himself. He could accept a future built around his own name and leave this difficult community behind.

He refuses.

Instead, he pleads for the people. He does not say that their actions do not matter. He appeals to God’s promises and remembers that God brought them out of slavery.

Their failure is real. Their relationship with God is damaged. But Moses insists that there is more to their story than this moment of failure.

The language of divine anger is troubling. We should hear its difficulty. Yet the passage also gives us a prayer that resists destruction, and a God who listens.

The threatened disaster is withdrawn. The people’s future remains open.

That openness matters for healing. We can acknowledge what is wounded without declaring that everything is lost. We can face harm honestly and seek protection, justice, and change. We can ask for healing without demanding that it arrive in a form we control.

Prayer belongs alongside medical care, counselling, practical help, and faithful companionship. Together, these can help us live more fully and receive the care we need.

So come with the feeling of brokenness.

Come with your fears, your weariness, and your longing to feel safe. Come with what you are holding tightly and what you are afraid to lose.

You do not have to put everything right before coming to God. You do not have to find the right words.

As we hold one another in prayer, may our hands gently open. May God’s grace fill our brokenness with love, strengthen us to receive and offer care, and lead us towards wholeness together. Amen.

Discover more from St Martin-in-the-Fields Chinese-Speaking Congregation

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading