I Corinthians 12:12-31a
January 23, 2022
According to one of my resources,
“the human body has 206 bones, 639 muscles, and about 6 pounds of skin, along
with ligaments, cartilage, veins, arteries, blood, fat, and more.”[1] Our body is a great feat
of engineering. I think about how I typed these words. Hundreds, maybe
thousands, of different things were happening between my brain, my muscles, and
everything in between to make my fingers take the words from my head and put them
on this paper. I think that our bodies are created so well, so beautifully,
that we don’t have to notice how they work until something goes wrong.
In January 2008, I was living in
Iowa. It had been typically bitter and cold for January in Iowa, but we had had
what was known as a January thaw. That means the temps got up to the high 30’s
and 40’s for a day or two. It had thawed just enough that the snow had gone
from being snow to icy snow, and if there were any wet patches on the sidewalks
and roads, they were also icy. I took my two dogs out for a walk, and just as
we stepped on the sidewalk in front of our house, one of the dogs spotted other
dogs across the street. She pulled at the leash – hard – and in trying to hold
onto her, I stepped onto an icy spot on the sidewalk and started to fall. What
do you do when you’re starting to fall? You try to catch yourself. I
instinctively (instincts – another amazing part of our human self) put my hand
out to catch myself, but when my hand hit hard sidewalk, my wrist bone said,
“Nope.”
I knew when I fell that something
had gone very, very wrong. And I was right. I had broken my wrist, really
broken it. But another amazing thing about our bodies happened when I broke my
wrist, adrenaline kicked in. It was adrenaline that helped me get myself and
the dogs back into the house. It was adrenaline that helped me call for help. I
was in terrible pain and starting to go into shock, but I knew that I had to
make sure the kids got picked up from school. I was in an adrenaline-pain-shock
haze when I called my dad and managed to tell him what had happened and asked
him to pick up Phoebe and Zach.
By the time I got to the ER and to
the front desk to check in, the adrenaline was wearing off and the pain was
winning, and I almost passed out. But they got me back to a room, assessed my
physical state, took x-rays, called the orthopedic surgeon on call, and, most
importantly, pumped me full of morphine. That was Friday. I had surgery on
Monday, and then the real fun began. For eight weeks, I wore a cast with an
external fixator coming out of it. It was three metal rods keeping my wrist
straight and in place. There were two rods that I couldn’t see doing the same
thing. And the point I’m trying to make in all of this is that I didn’t realize
all the things I did without thinking, until I couldn’t do them anymore. I
relied on having both of my wrists functional to dress. For the first few
weeks, I needed help dressing. I couldn’t open bottles or the tops of things
one-handed. Of course, I broke my right wrist and I’m right-handed, so writing
became a real problem. I was teaching community college at the time, and I
learned that I could write with my left hand on the board, but all letters had
to be huge, and I had to go very slowly. I couldn’t drive, not only because my
surgeon said that if I did and had an accident, I could be sued if they saw
this medical paraphernalia on my arm, but also because I couldn’t turn the key
to turn on the car so I could drive.
I did not realize until I broke my
wrist just how much I depended on having both wrists functioning until they
weren’t. Now, please don’t misunderstand me, there are lots of differently
abled people in the world who have bodies different from mine who function
marvelously. There are people who lose limbs, etc. and learn how to adjust and
move forward. My broken wrist was a temporary setback, but it gave me pause
when I thought about how my body worked, what I took for granted about my body
working, and how much I missed what I no longer could use.
Of all the metaphors that Paul employs, his
image of the body to see and understand the church is one of the most profound.
“For just as the body is one and has many
members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is
with Christ.”
Paul was writing to a church divided. The
church in Corinth was struggling with many issues of contention. One that was
especially divisive was the idea of superior and inferior members. In the first
11 verses of this chapter, Paul addressed the Corinthians on their
understanding of spiritual gifts.
“Now there are varieties of gifts. But the
same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord.”
When I read these words, I can’t help but
picture the Corinthians pointing fingers at one another and saying, “My gifts
are better than your gifts.” They seemed to think that there was a hierarchy
when it came to spiritual gifts. Perhaps preaching and teaching were at the
top. Or maybe they believed that the gift of healing outranked the gift of
encouragement. Either way, Paul debunked their understanding. All spiritual
gifts, whatever they may be, were given by the same God. The Corinthians were
using their gifts against one another. But Paul told them, emphatically, that
their gifts – all their gifts – were given to them to be used for the common
good.
Paul pressed this point with his use of the
body metaphor. Bodies are made up of many different members. But all these
different members make up the whole body. Then, to make sure he got their
attention, he added the words, “so it is with Christ.”
We are all baptized into one body. Whatever
our differences of race, class, ethnicity, or status, we are baptized into one
body through the same Spirit. Because of this, we need each other. Again, using the image of the body, Paul wrote,
“Indeed, the body does not consist of one
member but of many. If the foot would say, ‘Because I am not a hand, I do not
belong to the body,’ that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if
the ear would say, ‘Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,’ that
would not make it any less a part of the body.’”
To emphasize this, Paul stretched the analogy
into the ridiculous, painting an image of a body made up of all ears or all
eyes. Every part of the body, even those parts that seem to be weaker are
needed and necessary. The parts of the body that seem lacking in honor are
clothed with greater honor. The parts of the body that seem lacking in respect
are given greater respect. If one member of the body suffers, all members of
the body suffer. I used to get strep throat a lot as a kid, and believe me,
when my throat hurt my whole body hurt. In the same way if one member of the
body rejoices, all members rejoice. Every part of the body is needed. Every
part of the body is necessary. This is not a competition. In Paul’s metaphor, no
part of the body was dispensable. Not a toe, not a wrist.
This is one heck of a powerful metaphor. I go
round and round with Paul on many things, but this metaphor is brilliant. But
let’s remember that Paul was not merely encouraging a group of disparate people
to get along. He was reminding them and powerfully so that they were the church
– the body of Christ.
I have preached on this passage several times
over the past 20 years. I have read it even more. It is frequently used in
other aspects of church life to address the issue that the church is supposed
to be in unity. We are not called to uniformity, but we are called to unity.
Paul’s metaphor is about living in community with one another; working together
for the common good.
Yes, this is all true. The church needs all of
us and all our gifts. But here is something I hadn’t really considered much
before. Paul called the church the body of Christ. That’s one of those
statements that is so well-known and familiar to us that I think we forget its
meaning. We are part of the body of Christ in the world. In other words, we are
part of the incarnation. Jesus was the incarnation of God into the world. It stands
to reason then, that we as Christ’s body continue the incarnation. In this
season of Epiphany, the church as the body of Christ should serve as revelation
of God’s glory to the world.
But do we? What do we reveal to the world? Do
we reveal unity? Do we reveal love? Do we reveal compassion and wisdom and
kindness? There are times when the answer to these questions is, “Yes.” But
there are also times when the answer to these same questions is a resounding,
“No!” In this country, and around the world, many people look at Christians –
Christ’s body in the world – and see nothing but enmity, injustice,
intolerance, crippling pride, and cruelty rather than compassion. I think so
many of us in the church talk about ourselves as Christ’s body, but we forget that
a body is embodied. We are the
visible sign of Christ in the world. We are part of the incarnation.
Yikes! That is tough to hear, because I know
how often I fail in my call to be a part of that revelation and incarnation. I
know I am not alone in this. The truth is that the church has always been made
up of a motley crew of sinners. Jesus entrusted his gospel and good news to a
band of followers who never really got it right while he lived. When the Holy
Spirit came upon them, they found their voice and they found their courage. But
even then, they were still a motley crew of outsiders and odd ducks. So, it
continues to this day. We are a motley crew. We are a group of sinners who come
together to be the church, not because we get it right, but because God is
gracious. It is God’s grace that makes us the church. It is God’s grace that
works through us despite ourselves. It is God’s grace that makes us the church.
No matter how bad we can be at being the church, we are still needed and
necessary to the ongoing incarnation of God’s love in the world. No matter how
badly we fail at this, at being the church, God’s grace does not.
We need one another. That is the message of
Paul’s words to the Corinthians and to us. We need one another. This is both
the challenge and the good news. We need one another because we are the body of
Christ in the world. We need one another, when each of us whole, and when one
of us is broken. We need one another. We are the body of Christ in the world.
We are the body of Christ. Thanks be to God.
Let all God’s children say, “Alleluia.”
Amen.
[1]
Bartlett, David L. and Barbara Brown Taylor, eds., Feasting on the Word,
Year C, Volume 1, “Homiletical Perspective” by Raewynne J. Whiteley, (Louisville,
KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), 279.
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