The Rev. Carol Wedell
January 31, 2010

The butterflies in your stomach are a dead giveaway. Maybe it was the first day at a new school, or walking into your college dorm for the first time.  Maybe it was the first day at a new job, or the first walk down the street in a new neighborhood.  It may even have been the first time you visited a different church.  In the back of our minds, most of us wonder, "Will I belong?  Is there a place here for me? Will I fit in?"

I can remember far too many of such occasions, but probably the most humorous in retrospect was the first stroll that Scott (then age 3) and I took around the neighborhood into which we had just moved.  Many houses were still under construction.  Several were "model homes."  But I was, for the first time in my life, with my three year old son 24/7 and I knew that if I didn't find some adult companionship soon, I would go nuts.

So Scott and I began walking down the sidewalk, looking for houses where there were toys for young children - a tricycle, a swing set, a wagon - something to give me the courage to walk up to the door and ring the bell.  (You can imagine how desperate I was to do something so daring!).  I was successful at two homes - although the look on the mothers' faces did indicate more than a little surprise at my appearance.  Would I find my place in this neighborhood?

Sme of us admit it more readily than others, but all of us, I believe, have a need to belong.  Walk into any middle school or high school lunch room where there isn't assigned seating and it becomes very apparent.  Even an outsider will be able to find fiercely exclusive lunch tables defined by subculture, race, or status.  I wonder - what would God's "lunchroom" look like? 

Our reading from Paul's first letter to the church at Corinth gives us some clues about what the divine "lunchroom" might look like.  The image he uses is so vibrant and engaging that it almost has a theatrical quality about it.  Think Woody Allen or Monty Python - theater of the absurd. Comical images come to mind when I think about all of the various body parts.  I read this week that the human body has 206 bones, 639 muscles and about 6 pounds of skin, along with ligaments, cartilage, veins, arteries, blood, fat and more.  (If I'm wrong, the medical folks among us may simply correct my source!).  As most of you know I became all too intimately knowledgeable about several of my body parts this summer - say good by gall bladder!

Apparently, the metaphor used by Paul, of the church being a body, was fairly typical in his day.  But Paul takes it to another level entirely.  In Paul's version, this is a body where every part is as important as another.  There is no hierarchy.  No part is better than another; every part is essential to the well being of the whole.

You may recall that the church at Corinth was having some difficulties.  OK, that's an understatement.  They could have been a poster child for "problem church."  Established in a community that had a big gap between the wealthy few and the vast poor majority, the church reflected the divisions so readily found within the city.

While we don't know exactly what was going on in the church, we do know that there was significant dissension in the ranks.  They were arguing about who was better, who knew more, whose gifts were more important - you name it. So Paul, who had founded this church, writes to them. Our reading this morning begins well into Paul's first letter.  Earlier in this chapter, he has reminded them that there are a variety of spiritual gifts, but that God is the giver of them all.

Now Paul begins by reminding them that the body of Christ, just like the human body, is incredibly diverse. And it's that way by design - not by accident. It isn't a big jumble of noses.  No, there are arms and legs, and hearts, and ears, and big toes and pinky fingers and funny bones - and each part is valued.  Everyone who has been baptized is a part of Christ's body, and there is no part we can live without.  There are no "spare" parts that can be taken away, no tonsils or appendixes. Who ever heard of isolated clumps of noses, toes, or earlobes?   Every part of the body of Christ is critical to the health of the body as a whole.

What's more, Paul says, is that this diversity is needed - it's critical.  We all need each other's gifts.  Our children quickly learned who to go to if you needed a picture drawn or who to go to if you wanted a song sung.  The variety of gifts present in the body of Christ are there for a reason - to be used for the good of the body as a whole.

Now notice that Paul isn't saying, "you really ought to be more diverse, friends."  This isn't a statement of political correctness. No, he is saying that the diversity is already there - simply because each one within the body is uniquely made, uniquely gifted by God.  What God has established is an astonishingly different form of community where the apparently weak are nothing less than indispensable (v. 22) and every conceivable social, economic, and racial boundary is shattered.  That was shocking in the first century and it is still shocking today.  In other words, in the body of Christ, there is a place for everyone.

Being a member of the body of Christ means an absolute, out-and-out conjoining of one with the other, a sister or brother in Christ.  Although we are tempted, at times, to forget it, we need each other - every one of us.  Not one of us can go it alone, and the rest of us suffer when even one is not here.  How could people who are dependent on the gifts of the Holy Spirit dare to pretend that they have no need of others who have been given different gifts? Variety, Paul contends, does not create hierarchy; it only makes it possible for the body to do more; it points to function not importance.

Today we will ordain and install elders and deacons to their particular offices.  They have been chosen by God through the voice of the congregation to carry out their responsibilities to the best of their ability, through the power of the Holy Spirit.  Every one of us should be grateful that they have agreed to serve in these capacities, to help in the spiritual nurture and care of the congregation.

Yet are we not also grateful to the person who prays for our members, who sends cards to each person in need?  I know we value every person who sings in the choir, or who agrees to teach church school. It's also clear that each one of those parts plays an important role in the healthy functioning of the body.  We might hear the voice more than we hear the heart, but without the heart the voice can't speak.   Every person who works in the nursery (even one time!) or hosts fellowship time, who brings flowers for the chancel or serves as an usher.  Every one who calls to check to see how someone is doing, or offers to bring them to church. Are they not all essential to the life of our congregation?  How about the youth who read scripture or the children who participate in mission projects?  What about the person who gives a dollar to the "muffins for mission" project on Sunday mornings, without even taking a muffin?

Some are even more subtle:  the one who takes time to greet someone they don't know, or to speak with one of our members who has found it easier to sit down during fellowship time.  The folks who come up to me and quietly ask, "is there someone in need right now....just let me know."  The youth who go out of their way to welcome the new kid, who remember what it is like to walk in the first time.  The one who takes time to learn names, so that even the occasional attendee will be personally acknowledged is a body member of enormous value.  

How can you compare the supposed "value" of those gifts - which are only a minute fraction of all the gifts with which God has blessed us?  We can't!  So we don't value any one person over another. We simply seek to allow each person to find their place and use their gifts in ways that build up the church and enhance the faith of the individual.

One thing is for sure.  People tend to do best in areas of strength.  Just ask some of our Session members who have moved from one area to another!  Sometimes this will correspond to their activities outside of the church.  And sometimes it may be an entirely different area all together.

One difficulty is that we don't necessarily know what our spiritual gifts are.  Whenever I have been in small groups where folks have observed what gifts they see in each other, there are always a bunch of surprised faces in the room.  Do I really have the gift of compassion?  Organization is a God-given gift?  Hospitality just comes naturally to me-how can I count that as a gift?  But I love to sing; its just who I am!  Generally speaking, we need the rest of the body to help us discern our gifts, and how they may be put to use.

Sometimes, we ourselves feel like we are unessential or expendable. We feel like the cows that when reading a milk sign that said, "Pasteurized, homogenized, standardized, Vitamin D added" felt rather inadequate. For anyone who feels unessential, unworthy, or unwanted, however, Paul has a word of encouragement. He declares that "in Christ's community those who appear to be the weaker, the least, the less honored, the less respectable, are indispensable." If we are tempted to see ourselves or other people as unessential or unnecessary, it is because we are not paying attention  Each gift can make a world of difference for the whole community. Sometimes our best gift is just being present and open for God to work through us.

When something happens to our physical bodies, most of us recognize it right away.  A sliver of wood or an irritating blister will get all of our attention until addressed.  Something as threatening as cancer usually causes us to refocus our priorities completely.  Unfortunately, in the life of the church, we are not as in tune with what happens to individual parts of the body.  It is easy to forget one who has moved to a nursing home or to pass over someone's joy.

But it is not always that way.  I know of a member of this congregation who carried a prayer request from another member in his wallet for years. That is indeed being the body of Christ.

And when we do this, notice what Paul says will happen.  We will not merely be a "friendly" church.  We will be a place where burdens are truly shared, where joys make everyone happy, where we know that no matter what, we are in this together.  The body of Christ at its best is like a family at its best.  You are there for one another - even when someone says something they shouldn't, even when someone isn't pulling their weight, even when you feel angry or upset or shut out or irritated.  It is the place, Paul tells us, where we will be surrounded by God's love through the hands of God's people. Where the words "thank you" and "I'm sorry" and "I love you" are frequently on our lips.  Friends, isn't that the kind of place where you would like to belong?

I want to show you something.  (Box of cards).  Two and a half years ago, I had to undergo major surgery.  These are most of the cards that you sent to me.  Some of you sent several.  Others sent emails. A few called on the phone or brought gifts.  Countless numbers of you brought meals for my family.  And the body of Christ beyond this congregation surrounded me as well, with prayers and love and support. I truly felt upheld and surrounded by God's love shown in and through all of you, the body of Christ.

At the time I remember thinking, "I never knew how important a single get-well card could be."   I also thought "it's too bad that it takes such a serious issue before we show one another the care and compassion we have for them."  To be truthful, with some exceptions, clergy folks where not the ones to call or send cards or offer a meal. Do we have to know someone well before we pray for them, or send a card, or offer to take a meal?  Do we trust the community of faith enough to let them know when we have a need for their love and support?  What about a card of congratulations when one of our students graduates, or a couple has a baby, or someone simply moves?  Of course there are million ways to demonstrate our compassion. "If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it."  But that all requires that we trust one another with that information.

Where is your place in the body of Christ?  What gifts do you have that the body critically needs?  Where can you fit in?

The following was sent to me as a joke, but right now it strikes me as the very heart of the matter.  Jamie was trying out for a part in the school play. His mother told me that he'd set his heart on being in it, though she feared he would not be chosen. On the day the parts were awarded, I went with her to collect him after school. Jamie rushed up to her, eyes shining with pride and excitement. 'Guess what, Mom ,' he shouted, and then said those words that will remain a lesson to me.... 'I've been chosen to clap and cheer.'

Friends, you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.  Rejoice in the place that is yours!