A Garment Not Discarded: Desert Wisdom and the Redemption of the Wounded (Lectio Divina)

Lectio

If Your Cloak Is Torn, You Mend It — Abba Mius

“A soldier asked Abba Mius if God accepted repentance. After the old man had taught him many things he said, ‘Tell me, my dear, if your cloak is torn, do you throw it away?’ He replied, ‘No, I mend it and use it again.’ The old man said to him, ‘If you are so careful about your cloak, will not God be equally careful about his creature?’”

— Abba Mius, The Sayings of the Desert Fathers: The Alphabetical Collection

Meditatio

When we come to Christ, we do not come whole. We do not come healed. We do not come to Him with the fullness of truth and life and light in our hearts. Rather, we come to Him broken, wounded, and fragmented by sin — both ours and the sin of the world around us that has hurt us and by which we hurt others.

And in this broken state, in all of our woundedness and weariness, worn out from the world and our worldly ways, He loves us. He receives us. He welcomes us into His flock and cares for us, tends to us, and feeds us. For in our woundedness, He joined us and was wounded with us. He was wounded for us. In our woundedness, He died for us, not because we were whole, but because we were wounded.

Just as He did not come for the healthy or the righteous, but for the sick and the sinners, He did not come for the whole but for the wounded, the fragmented, and the unraveled. Like garments in need of mending, He came not to throw away the sinners, but to piece us back together — to create a new garment out of old scraps, and to use that garment to warm the cold, comfort the weary, and heal the sick. Jesus Christ came not because we were good or faithful or deserving, but because we were and are in need of wholeness — the kind of wholeness that only He can provide.

Oratio

A Garment Torn by Robert Van Valkenburgh

A Garment Torn

a garment torn
tattered and worn
familiar comfort
this self I put on
to protect me
from the cold

so full of holes
without a home
dubious comfort
this self I put on
to hide me
from the truth

You see through my lies
with Your loving eyes
a welcome discomfort
this cross You put on
to save me
from myself

Contemplatio

There is no version of you that is too unraveled for Him to receive. He did not come for the righteous or the whole, but for you, exactly as worn and fragmented as you are right now. Let that be enough for this moment — not a project to complete, but a truth to rest in. Hold this in stillness, withholding nothing, and let Him move as He will.


Related Scripture

“to provide for those who mourn in Zion — to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit. They will be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, to display his glory.”

Isaiah 61:3 (NRSVCE)


For Further Reading

If you enjoyed this post, you may also like Silence And Humility: Abba Sisoes on Trusting God’s Timing (Lectio Divina), which turns to another desert father’s word — this time on the patience of waiting for God rather than the mending of what feels broken.


Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity.
Wrestling With God.
Returning To Love.


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