As I grow older there is a word that jumps out at me every time I come across it.  That word is ‘vulnerability.’  I see the word in multiple contexts, but its prominence seems to remind me that it is not simply an ‘out-there’ word. 

Rather it is now speaking to me in my personal situation, and I am trying to pay attention to its diverse meanings.

In my case of aging, I begin to experience more and more my physical and even intellectual limitations and, of course, I dare to raise the unmentionable topic that the road to not being present on this earth is now much shorter than the road that has brought me this far (and please notice how smoothly I have avoided the word ‘death’). 

Now, vulnerability is a word with which I am very familiar.  My ministry as an ethicist in mostly Catholic hospitals brought me up against the reality of human frailty, fear, and uncertainty, as well as to the gift of hope.  In educational sessions with healthcare staff, I often emphasized the point that generally the patients coming into the hospital are vulnerable.  They are often frightened in the face of a challenging diagnosis or an uncertain treatment.  They can be quite disoriented since they are not only outside the familiarity of their own homes but also being dropped into the busy atmosphere of hospital rooms, questions from nurses and specialists, unfamiliar noises, other patients, and routines like blood pressure tests or needle pokes of one kind or another.  Occasionally nurses have had to calm a patient who, despite the needed treatment, just wants to get out of what feels like a stifling environment.  That is a vivid response to vulnerability.

To be overly simplistic, I think that what is often happening in these situations is the experience of losing control or what we always assumed as control.  One may feel like one of those balls in a pinball machine.  But underneath the reality of losing control is this surfacing of vulnerability.  We do need care.  We do need professionals.  We do need this hospital even though it may be frightening.  We do need to be there – but deep down we don’t want to be!

Nonetheless, look at all the good that comes out of healthcare.  Surgeries, physical and occupational therapy, tender nursing care leading to hope and trust.  And afterwards there is often enormous gratitude for the benefits received.  Vulnerability has been superseded then by trust even when things do not always result in positive results.  And trust is the cornerstone of letting oneself be vulnerable.

So this leads me to a reflection on the place of vulnerability in our lives.  For, you see, we are all vulnerable people.  Oh, we work hard to hide or control our vulnerability.  Much of our search for security – homes, jobs, relationships – masks our human frailty and dependence so that we live our daily lives as if they will last forever.  

Think for a moment of a shy young man who longs to connect with a particular female friend.  When he takes a chance, exposing his vulnerability, the result may be a reception that enables life-long sharing in trust.  Or think of the elderly woman who lets a caregiver into her home and then discovers a gentle, caring and encouraging support and perhaps even a friendship.

Now, obviously, opening one’s vulnerability can also lead to hurt and betrayal.  And that is why we are all so cautious.  But burying one’s vulnerability closes the door to some of the most beautiful relationships in human life.     

However, one word from our doctor – think of the word ‘cancer’ – or the awful news from our employer – we have to downsize – or a rough stretch in our relationship with spouse or a child and the world changes.  We scramble to right the ship in the storm while being shaken to our core. 

Now, in an unbidden manner, my thoughts begin to review the road already traveled and I am in awe of the gifts and blessings bestowed upon me by God already.  It is not just that I recognize a blest life.  It is more the realization that my vulnerability has been cloaked by the goodness and generosity of God who has protected me, encouraged me, sustained me, forgiven me in times of folly, and all this especially through family and mentors and friends. 

This is the God who continues to journey with me as a frail human being and will not desert me as I age and feel the limitations of being human even at this advanced stage of my life.  And then I realize that vulnerability is one of God’s gifts to me for through it I learn ever anew that I live by trust in God’s presence, God’s love, God’s Word, and God’s promises.  In ways that include but go well beyond the gifts I recognize and appreciate – things like family, friends, education, opportunities to develop and use my talents – God gives God’s own self to sustain us, to support us, to encourage us – in short, to love each of us into life.  Thus, to meditate on our vulnerability is to open our hearts in wondrous gratitude to the One who gently loves us into and through life, and who truly is the One who is in control.  For us humans, being completely in control means constantly protecting the things that I, or we, think make us secure.  Being vulnerable opens me to connections which are ultimately themselves gifts of caring and love and union and trust. 

Perhaps a clearer example of vulnerability leading to an attitude of gratitude and trust can be found in the life of Our Blessed Mother Mary.  She was a young woman hidden in the backwoods of Israel, a nobody in the eyes of the Romans and, indeed, the Jewish authorities. 

Suddenly her vulnerability is exposed through the appearance of the angel Gabriel, and she is asked to do something that has never been heard of before, to accept a pregnancy that will expose her to ridicule and possible stoning to death.  But she recognizes this as God’s work and she accepts.  Now some credit must be given to Joseph who, when he finally understands what God is asking, rises to the responsibility to protect this vulnerable young woman whom he takes as his wife.  And we see how God protects those who expose their vulnerability.

We can also reflect for a moment on Mary’s cousin Elizabeth, who has conceived John the Baptist in her old age.  For she, Elizabeth, is the promised sign or testimony that Mary can live by trust which is more powerful than any human efforts at certainty.  As such Mary becomes the First Disciple, a model for us of entrusting our vulnerability to God’s presence and God’s promise.  And then when Jesus is born, as vulnerable as every human infant, he is entrusted to the care and protection and guidance of Mary and Joseph until he encounters the fullness of vulnerability on the Cross.  Three days later the Risen Lord changes human vulnerability into the promise of complete safety and fulfillment in union with our God. 

Do I rejoice in my vulnerability?  Well, I am still human enough to be tempted to depend on my own strength or my need for security blankets.  But as St. Paul discovered and shared with us, “In my weakness I find God’s strength.”  And that is a matter of trust which is another word for believing in the One who is completely trustworthy.   Our faith, a gift from God, is a treasure like the pearl of great price.  Hence, especially in prayer, I thank God not only for my vulnerability but especially for the experiences or reminders of my human frailty.  And I invite you to do the same, no matter how scary it may feel.  Again, as St. Paul reminds us, we hold a treasure in earthen vessels.  Indeed, we are a treasure in earthen vessels. 

In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.