Showing posts with label Scripture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scripture. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

The Body of Christ--A Spiritual Exercise

A reflection based on 1 Corinthians 12:12-31.

Do me a favor—raise your right hand right now. Look at it for a second and imagine rejecting it. Declaring that it’s not part of you. Then imagine your right hand agreeing, and having it act independently from you. You don’t control it, it’s not part of your body. Your right hand is not part of your body.
 
Ridiculous, right? Flex your fingers for a second. Make a fist and relax it. Of course it’s part of your body. It couldn’t not be. Actually, if it wasn’t, the rest of you would really have to work to make up for it.
 
Paul’s letter to the Corinthians points out that this is exactly how it works in the Body of Christ as well. We’re all part of it, and whatever part we play is beyond just important—it’s the only way it works.
 
Every time I read this passage, I’ve tried to think about what part of the body I am. Now that I’ve said that, some of you might be thinking about what part you are, too. That’s good. It’s a good way to start getting into that self-awareness about our faith lives.
 
Actually, if you haven’t been thinking about it, do that now.
What part of the body of Christ might you be?
 
Some of us might be eyes and ears that gather information and transmit it to the rest of the body. Some of us might be the legs or feet that propel the body where it needs to go. Some might be the stomach or lungs—hidden parts that supply the body with what sustains it. Some might be the hands arms that reach out to serve.
 
Some might feel like the foot that fell asleep. I admit, the last time I read through this letter to the Corinthians, I sort of felt like that foot. Anyone ever have that happen? A foot fall asleep? At the time, I thought that what I needed was for the rest of the body to shake me awake. At that time, it is what I needed, but what I didn’t ask was why the body had sat still long enough for a foot to fall asleep.
 
That’s the question I should’ve asked. Why was the body so still, so complacent, so sedentary, as to let a foot fall asleep? More to the point, why was I so complacent and still as to do that?
 
If you’ve ever had a foot completely asleep, you know two things:

1. It will hurt a little to wake up.

2. You’re likely to fall flat on your face until it does.

We’re part of the body of Christ. This is a body of mutual care between all the parts. When we remain still, complacent, not using ourselves for what we’re supposed to, we hurt ourselves and endanger the body. We’re responsible to ourselves and to one another. When we try to destroy or undermine a part, we do the same thing.
 
If the muscles didn’t work with the eyes, we’d run ourselves into walls. If the nerves didn’t work with the limbs, we’d do all sorts of damage to ourselves.
 
So we kind of get what happens when we’re destructive to ourselves, what happens when we try to lift each other up? Just reverse all of that. When the muscles work with the eyes, the limbs, the nerves, the ears, we can really go places. We can run races, we can climb mountains, we can cook and serve amazing meals, we can put together furniture, we can smell spring flowers, we can create, go and do.
 
Seems like a pretty common sense analogy. When we work together, we can do more. When we as a group listen to all the parts, we’ll go further. If we try to disconnect ourselves from the body, we destroy ourselves even as we hurt the body. Remember your hand? A hand without an arm, nervous system, muscles, bones, can’t do much. An eye without an optical nerve and body to communicate with is pretty useless, too. A body without an eye will have to compensate to survive, and won’t have the same capacity it did with the eye.
 
We need all the parts of our body. Each one enriches the whole and enables something that wouldn’t be as possible without it.
 
The catch is, when we think of our own body, it’s automatic. Breathing, getting from here to there, sitting down, standing up, watching a sunset, all that just happens and we can scarcely imagine it any other way.
 
When we think of the body of Christ, it’s not automatic. When the different parts are different people, things get trickier to envision. All of us here, part of the body of Christ. All of the people out there—worshipping elsewhere this morning, sitting at home, wherever—part of the body of Christ. Dividing ourselves into us and them doesn’t change the reality that we are all one. Inextricably tied to one another, tied into a need to mutually care for one another. To play our part as part of the whole.
 
That takes a little thinking—it’s tough to see that the person in front of or behind me or the one who brings my breakfast at the diner is inextricably tied to me, and I am to them. That diversity enriches the body, and oversimilarity hinders it. That’s probably part of Paul’s point—it’s not automatic, and it should be. It should be automatic, but we don’t see it. There’s a gap in what the body of Christ actually is (a whole), and what we think it is.
 
And it can’t just end there—in a mental exercise. If this faith life thing is important, and we'll guess it is or we wouldn’t be here, since this is important, we don’t just say so and do nothing about it.
 
If a foot falls asleep we wake it up—which might be painful for us and the foot. If we are that foot, we have to be prepared to wake up, which might be painful. We don’t sit still, either, doing nothing or just doing the same thing over and over. We move together, work together, and try new ways to reach the world together. We rejoice in the accomplishments and contributions of one another. If there’s something to do, we do it—hands and feet and eyes and ears.
 
What we do matters. In a few minutes, we will have the opportunity to meet as one group and hear from one another—to get a picture of the whole from all of the parts. It matters if we stay or go; it matters if we work together or try to dislocate ourselves or try to strengthen one another.
 
Where is the good news in this? Right now it sounds like a lot of work, I suppose. It is. The good news is in the potential. Look again at your hand. Rather than imagine it being removed from the body, look at it as it is—as a part of the body. Notice the wrist, which allows movement for better function, the arm that connects it to the torso, the muscles that allow it to lift heavy objects.
 
Now see the hand as the person next to you. Remember what part you were.
 
What’s your job in this Body of Christ? How does it connect to theirs?

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

How do you say that I am?

This week's sermon is based on the Gospel Reading of the Revised Common Lectionary, Mark 8:27-38.


Every week, a group of people gather in this space to sing praise to, offer prayers to, read stories about, learn about, and worship this person called Jesus. Every week, we come together around word, water, bread and wine for this purpose.

But who is Jesus and why do we worship him?
 
This is the very question that is brought to us by today’s gospel: Who is Jesus? Who do we say that Jesus is?
 
We have many names for Jesus—you may have learned some of them in Sunday school, confirmation, parents' instructions, or church.
 
Jesus is the Son of God.
The Second Person of the Trinity.
The Savior of the World.
Emmanuel.
God with us.
 
Those are all great descriptions, but what does that mean, really? Who is Jesus?
 
Well, let’s start with Son of God. Jesus is in an unbreakable relationship with God the parent. That parent/child relationship that never can be erased. But Jesus’ connection is even deeper than that. Jesus is the Second Person of the Trinity. This Jesus is a part of God, equal to God, is God. Everything Jesus does in his lifetime on earth is in line with God because Jesus is one being with the Father and the Spirit—so in line with them because he is part of them. One being.
 
Jesus is God as human—Emmanuel—God with us. God speaks to us and walks with us in Jesus. As God with us, Jesus proclaims and lives a life of radical hospitality and inclusivity. Don’t believe me? Just ask some of the untouchable lepers Jesus spoke with and healed. Some of the children, women, poor, blind, widows, foreigners, strangers, sick and suffering people that society had written off. These are the people Jesus sought out, spoke with, loved, and healed. That’s our example. That’s God in the world.
 
Savior of the world. Jesus suffered and died on the cross and rose again three days later. He died for the sake of the world, so that we might be saved from the eternal consequences of sin—that is, death. Jesus loves the world and everyone in it. He died that we might have eternal life—Jesus himself tells Peter this is the plan in today’s lesson. Jesus is the Messiah sent to save the world from the hold that sin has on it.
 
So that’s who we say Jesus is.
How do we go about that?
 
Well, we have inherited some invaluable gifts as children of God to help us do that. 
 
Faith given to us by the Holy Spirit, who is God’s continued presence among us. This faith isn’t something we choose, but is a gift. We learn about it through the Word, most tangibly, the Bible. In the Scriptures, the story of God and God’s people from creation through Jesus to the early church are recorded for us to learn about and better understand our faith. We read from it every week so that we might grow and continue to be reminded of this story.
 
Two more things we are given: baptism and communion. These sacraments—these sacred traditions—are instituted by Jesus himself and promise us that God is with us.
 
In baptism, we gather around water and word to celebrate our unity with Jesus. We are assured that the Holy Spirit comes to us there not because of what we do, but because of what Jesus has done. Because of what God has done in us. Through baptism, we are joined to Christ and brought into the family of God as sisters and brothers.
 
Then there is communion--bread and wine. Common physical elements from daily life. Yet through this, we recall Jesus’ ultimate sacrifice for us, and we are again assured by Jesus that he is here, present in the bread and wine, forgiving our sin and calling us to lead lives like his.
 
And guess what? We can lead lives like that. We are assured through baptism that we are united with Christ and brought to eternal life. Through communion, we are assured of this and that we are forgiven of our sin. Freed from those worries, we can simply live in response to these gifts.
 
In worship, we gather around word, water, bread and wine. We receive God’s gifts—God’s word, the Holy Spirit’s presence, Christ’s body and blood. We are assured of our connection to Christ and one another, and of the promises given to us in word and sacrament.
 
We are freed from the burdens of sin and given eternal life. We can go into the world, knowing—knowing­—that we don’t have anything to earn where God is concerned.
 
We are free to live a life like we have been saved and given gifts too great to keep to ourselves. We are free to live like Jesus—imitating the radical hospitality he showed to so many, including ourselves. We are free to respond to God’s call in our lives.