One Body, Many Parts

I was talking with a parishoner today and a thought came to mind of a trend I have begun to notice in the church. The tendency that we have as people, and especially as Christians, to desire similarity. The church is a diverse place and it needs to be so or we will not have the flexibility and grace to worship and live with those who are different than we are.

I have spoken a number of times with people in the church who are exasperated by how few others are doing the things that they value, "I volunteer down at the soup kitchen and no one else wants to come down with me from the church," or "I was the only person who noticed so-and-so, a newcomer this Sunday, and welcomed them." These are common statements. I completely understand their sentiment. My heart often feels the same way, "If only they would..."

I wonder if what we are really saying is, "Why can't they be more like me and value the same things as I value?" The problem with this thinking may be obvious, but as Christians, we tend to couch it in Christian terms and think, "Christians should want to help the poor at the soup kitchen, where are they?" and "Why isn't everyone welcoming the newcomers?" They certainly seem like fair statements. Jesus said we should care for the poor and so we should do things like serve at a soup kitchen. We as a church want to be welcoming so we should make a point to notice new people, right?

What we often fail to realize is that more often than not, the soup kitchen is located in a church and staffed by Christians. Our view of the church and of Christians can be very myopic and we forget that the church is much bigger than we can often see. Should we invite others to serve with us in what we do? Of course, but let us remember that there is one body that is the church and it has many parts. If we are a "hand" it is easy to forget that an "eye" would not serve the church better by trying to be a "hand" like us.

Jesus has set us free of the punishment we deserve on account of the law. He has suffered for us and we have died with him in and been raised to new life in our baptism. We serve as the Spirit moves in us to serve. That is always going to be different than how another is moved...that is okay. It has to be okay or soon enough we will start to expect everyone to be a "hand" or an "eye." This is what Paul is protesting when he says:

"The eye cannot say to the hand, 'I have no need of you,' nor again the head to the feet, 'I have no need of you.' On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indespensable, and on those parts of the body we think less honorable we bestow the greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater modesty, which our more presentable parts do not require." (1Cor 12:21-24)

Jesus said a lot of things about how we ought to live, but over all of his command we must remember his description of the Kingdom, "So the last shall be first and the first last." (Matt 20:16). The things of God are confusing and most often the opposite from the way we think they "ought" to be. We quickly overlook ourselves when asking why those in the church are not doing something we think they should. We ask why no one is doing it forgetting that we are (I assume). And if we are doing it, then maybe we can relax a little and take comfort in the fact that God has not forgotten the least of these in our church and that he, through us, is caring for his people and the world he loves and has created.

Compromise?

I have heard quite a few sermons and talks making the point that we cannot compromise as Christians. In particular, that we cannot compromise our beliefs. That no matter what we come up against our beliefs are the root of our faith and that we must hold to them even when it is extremely difficult to do so.

I have been thinking about this a little and I am coming to the conclusion that such thinking is ridiculous. First of all, the root of our faith is not our belief, but Jesus, the Savior of the world who came as man and God to die for our sins and be raised again. Period.

Second, how can we as Christians live together without compromise? I am not just talking about our basic disagreements in life, I am talking specifically about our beliefs and theology. To be uncompromising in our beliefs is to assume that we have everything right. This would mean that we all agree on the same interpretation of scripture and are absolutely 100% correct. That we have truth nailed down.

I can tell you right now, those people are out of their minds if they think that. Look at Acts 15 and the Jerusalem Council. The church has existed for very little time and already two of their major leaders are arguing over their beliefs. Paul and Peter do not agree theologically on how to deal with the Gentiles. Both think they are right and the incredible story ends with a compromise. Something that both can agree on because it is rooted in the primary truth of Christ, which allows the other issues to fade into the background.

I would like to propose that compromise is exactly what the church needs more of today. Because I have found that when we compromise, we are finding the true root of our faith and finding a way to work the other stuff, the non-essentials, around the central truth of Christ crucified and raised again. We do not need teachings about not compromising because if we have responded to the love and power and grace of God in Christ, the no one needs to tell us not to compromise because we are ready to go to hell and back over that truth. It is how we translate that truth into the everyday life of the church that desperately needs compromise, not the truth itself.

We are facing terrible tragedies in the Episcopal tradition these days and they are happening, in part, because of this idea that we cannot ever compromise our beliefs. It is a shame because it means we have missed the point.

Forgiveness in Matthew 18

As a child I remember having a clear sense of justice. When that instinct was violated I became very upset. I cannot remember any teachings about reconciliation (a very popular term these days), but I do remember how it was supposed to work. If someone offended, they should come to their senses and apologize. The victim of offense would then forgive them.

When I was in High School, our youth group had a different method. We called it keeping "short accounts." In this model the person offended would go to the offender and let them know they hurt us and they in turn were supposed to apologize. This would keep offenses from piling up and clear the air before accounts could grow too large. It may sound familiar because this is essentially what is described in last week's Gospel passage (Matt 18:15-20).

While I remember being very good about going to my fellow disciples and expecting them to apologize for hurting me, it was much harder for me to forgive when they came to me. People would come up to me and expect me to apologize for the silliest things. I was happy to apologize when I actually did something mean or hurtful, but just because someone came up and said I hurt them didn't mean I had done anything wrong, right? They were just being "too sensitive."

Wow, is that a phrase I have come to hate more than just about any other..."you're being too sensitive." I am convinced this is a sinner's crutch; I am convinced this is my crutch. I use it to justify my desire to be righteous and to be clear of offense. Someone says I have offended and I can brush them aside because they are simply being "too sensitive."

"Too sensitive" is a phrase we use because we are steeped in unforgiveness. We are entirely ready to take the high ground and forgive others. But when we are told we have sinned, that we must cede the high ground and no one likes that. "I had no intention of hurting you," we might say. We think to ourselves that we would not have gotten upset by what we had done. We are content to know that we have "done unto others as we would have them do unto us." (Matt 7:12) The problem is we forget that two chapters earlier Jesus also said, "Be perfect, as your father in heaven is perfect." (Matt 5:48)

"Peter came and said to Jesus, 'Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?' Jesus said to him, 'Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.'" (Matt 18:21-22)

Forgiveness is hard, and the forgiveness that God demands is impossible. Jesus goes on from this passage to tell a story of a man who was forgiven much and yet refused to forgive one who owed him little. This unforgiving man was tortured until he paid back all that he owed. An amount so staggering that it would have been impossible for him to comply.

The point of the parable is simple. We should forgive others and not hold grudges, end of story right? Thankfully, the story does not end there because that conclusion leaves us hopeless. This "moral of the story" is impossible to attain. If we walk away from this parable with the message that because God forgives us we must then forgive others, we are lost.

We are humans and thus sinners who are unable to forgive as we have been forgiven. And in our unforgiveness we incur the wrath of a righteous God, to be tortured until we have repaid all we owe.

If the Law and its requirements were all we were left with, that would be the end of the story and we would pass through life hopeless. But thankfully, with Law comes Gospel. Because God is a forgiving and loving God, he sent his son that in our death we may have life.

From the cross Jesus says, "Father, forgive them, for the know not what they do," and that is exactly what he does. Our sins...forgiven. Your sins...forgiven. My sins...forgiven. Period.

He does not even wait for us to ask. Before we go looking to settle our accounts, short or long...forgiven. Before our mouths can even form the words,"I'm sorry"...forgiven. In our wretchedness...forgiven. In our death...forgiven.

It's Time

I have not posted in over a year and before that my time here was spotty at best. I started this blog four years ago to process the incredible things I was learning at seminary.

Now, having graduated from seminary, been ordained, and taken a call to a wonderful church in Pittsburgh and I feel the urge to begin writing again.

Kris+