Monday, September 28, 2026From the news

God's Nearness to the Broken at Lourdes

In the face of the church's painful history of abuse, God draws near to the brokenhearted, calls us to vigilance in protecting the vulnerable, and promises healing through faith in Jesus Christ.

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. (NIV)

Psalm 34:18

If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them if a large millstone were hung around their neck and they were drowned in the depths of the sea. (NIV)

Matthew 18:6

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. (NIV)

James 1:27

Dear friend, as you sip your morning coffee and scroll through the headlines, you may have paused at the story from Lourdes. Pope Leo, during his visit to that sacred place in southern France, spoke directly to French bishops about the 'scourge' of sexual abuse within the church. He urged them to maintain the greatest vigilance, acknowledging the painful path they've begun in facing abuses committed by clergy and lay members over decades. A 2021 inquiry revealed the staggering toll: about 330,000 children abused in France alone over 70 years. And there, behind closed doors and later in tender meetings with seven survivors, the Pope listened to their stories, thanked them for their testimony, and reaffirmed a commitment to prevent such harm from repeating. One survivor, Jean-Marie Delbos, called it extraordinary—he never dreamed a Pope would sit before him, hearing his pain. In the shadow of massive crowds and hopeful signs amid declining church attendance, this moment cuts deep, reminding us of wounds that linger across institutions and generations.

We feel the weight of it, don't we? The betrayal by those meant to shepherd, the innocence shattered, the trust broken. It's a sorrow that echoes from Boston Globe exposés to inquiries worldwide, from the 1950s onward. Hearts ache for those little ones—now grown—who carry scars no one should bear. Yet in this heaviness, let's take heart. The God we know through Scripture is not distant in our pain. He draws near, especially when the world feels crushing.

Listen to the tender promise in Psalm 34:18: 'The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.' Oh, what comfort for survivors like Jean-Marie and countless others. The Lord isn't high above, unmoved; He is close, intimately near, binding wounds with His presence. In Lourdes, a place of pilgrimage and healing waters, this truth shines brighter. Whether in a Catholic sanctuary or your quiet room, God's nearness doesn't depend on human leaders' perfection. It's rooted in His unchanging character, extended through the grace of Jesus Christ, who Himself was broken for us. If you're carrying hidden hurts today—perhaps from church wounds or personal betrayals—let this verse wrap around you like a warm embrace. The Savior who wept over Jerusalem sees your crushed spirit and whispers salvation.

Jesus speaks even more directly to the heart of this scourge in Matthew 18:6: 'If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them if a large millstone were hung around their neck and they were drowned in the depths of the sea.' These aren't soft words; they reveal God's fierce protection over the vulnerable. The Pope's call for vigilance echoes this—persevere, stay watchful. But Jesus places it in the context of His kingdom, where children are welcomed, not harmed. In our evangelical walk, this challenges us personally. Have we been vigilant in our families, churches, communities? Protecting the 'little ones' isn't just policy; it's discipleship. It means listening like the Pope did to those survivors, creating safe spaces where pain can be voiced without fear. And when failures happen—as they have grievously—it's a call to repentance, to let Christ's blood cover and cleanse.

James 1:27 gives us the practical shape of faith that endures: 'Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.' Here, pure faith widows the vulnerable, including abused children whose lives were orphaned of safety. In France, amid falling worshippers and fewer priests, there's a glimmer—adult baptisms doubling to 10,000 in 2025, young people bringing joy. This is hope: faith overflowing, as the Pope urged, refreshing others. For you today, dear one, let this guide your steps. In your workplace, neighborhood, or home, look after those in distress. Guard your heart from the world's pollutions. Personal faith in Jesus means practical love—listening to the hurting, advocating for justice, walking in holiness.

As we reflect on Lourdes, let's rest in God's mercy. The church's failures don't nullify His promises. Through Christ, healing flows—not from human effort alone, but from the cross where every scourge was borne. Survivors find restoration; leaders find wisdom for vigilance; and we all find grace to disciple faithfully. Take heart, friend. God's presence is your strength today. Let Scripture center your heart, drawing you closer to Jesus amid the news's shadows.