Dear Christa,
Since breaking my patella a week ago, I’ve
gained new insight and appreciation concerning Paul’s comments on the body of
Christ in 1 Corinthians 12:14-27. It’s too long to type out here, but you know
the passage I’m talking about, the one where all the parts work together. And
boy, is it ever true.
When one part of the body isn’t working, it
makes all the other parts have to work harder and pick up jobs that aren’t
theirs. It really does take 2 legs to hold up the body. Sometimes the muscles
in my arms ache worse than the knee that’s fractured from supporting my weight
on crutches.
Not only do the other parts have to work harder
to compensate, but nothing works as well. The windows remain dirty, the freezer
not defrosted, my morning walk not taken. Things I’d planned to do will not get
done, not until later. Washing windows and defrosting freezers are not
significant, and there will be time to do them once my knee is healed. But,
what about the work of the body of Christ? What happens when broken parts hinder
the whole?
A body part not working right doesn’t just have
the negative effect of how it affects the others. A broken part is a broken
part, and it needs to be tended to. I can’t ignore this knee. That’s
impossible. It has to be cared for. If not, it won’t get better. We can’t
ignore hurting Christians anymore than I could pretend this broken kneecap
didn’t exist. When one is hurting, the rest must help. It is only right.
All the people of Christ are so important.
There are no insignificant people. When John Donne proclaimed in Meditation 17
that “no man is an island” and that what happens to one happens to all, he was
establishing the value and interconnection of every person.
Perhaps keeping the body of Christ fit and
healthy is not mostly an act of being proficient, but more an act of love. I
can say that I have gained new appreciation for my knee. When it’s back in
service, maybe my feet will pick themselves up a little higher. Maybe my eyes
will look where the body is going instead of being distracted.
And, maybe I won’t get frustrated if I have to
pick up some extra work for a hurting person. Maybe I’ll pay a little more
attention of how to benefit the people around me. I hope so.
—the parishioner who doesn’t do anything
