SunFeb132011
Scripture: 1 Corinthians 3:1-9
I could not speak to you as spiritual people, but rather as people of the flesh, as infants in Christ.
I fed you with milk, not solid food, for you were not ready for solid food. Even now you are still not ready, for you are still of the flesh. For as long as there is jealousy and quarreling among you, are you not of the flesh, and behaving according to human inclinations? For when one says, "I belong to Paul," and another, "I belong to Apollos," are you not merely human?
What then is Apollos? What is Paul? Servants through whom you came to believe, as the Lord assigned to each.
I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth. The one who plants and the one who waters have a common purpose, and each will receive wages according to the labor of each. For we are God's servants, working together; you are God's field, God's building.
Division in the church. The young pastor, fresh out of seminary, went to his first church. It was a small congregation that, not unlike the Corinthian church Paul was writing to, had experienced some division. He concluded his first sermon on the importance of unity in the church to the gathered worshipers with these words: “So, my dear friends, we need to stand shoulder-to-shoulder, back-to-back, look each other square in the eye and go forward together.”
It was an admonition he might well have given to the church in Corinth. They were such human folk, those Corinthian Christians. They had divided into camps claiming to be followers of various well-known early church personalities—Paul, well educated, a deep thinker, a great organizer, an effective missionary, who had founded the Corinthian church, as well as many others; Peter, one of the original 12 disciples, chosen by Jesus, noted for his faith, respected by the early church; Apollos, a renowned orator and popular preacher in the newly formed and forming faith communities of the day, located in the Roman provinces of Macedonia and Asia Minor. And then there was another group, the real spiritual folks, who said, “We’ve got you all beat. We follow Christ.”
Later in his letter Paul notes that, not only are the Corinthian Christians divided by their allegiance to various well-known early church personalities, they also are divided by the spiritual gifts present in the community.
In Eugene Peterson’s The Message translation of 1 Corinthians 12 Paul speaks of the many gifts given by the Holy Spirit to the Church: “The variety is wonderful: wise counsel, clear understanding, simple trust, healing the sick, miraculous acts, proclamation, distinguishing between spirits, tongues, interpretation of tongues.” He goes on to say, “All these gifts have a common origin, but are handed out one by one by the one Spirit of God.”
Preaching or singing or teaching or administration or counseling or handling money wisely or caring for the poor or overseeing our buildings and property—all of these can be more than just natural ability. They can be genuine gifts of the Spirit, given to people of faith. A problem arises when I lose sight of the source of my gifts, when I become possessive of them, and particularly when I begin to compare my gift or gifts with those of others. A problem arises, when I begin to elevate mine and devalue yours.
Paul speaks in other places of the Church as the body of Christ, one body with many members inhabited, energized, given life by the Holy Spirit. He speaks of hands and feet, of eyes and ears and noses. All are important to the body, Paul says. Even the ones we sometimes think are less important.
A few years ago (it was Friday, the 13th of September, I kid you not) I was at home on my day off. It was a beautiful, sunny day and I was outside, working in the yard. I had finished mowing the lawn and was trimming some trees and shrubs around our property. At the back corner of our house was a large arborvitae in need of pruning. I went to the garage, retrieved electric hedge clippers and an old wooden stepladder and proceeded to the task. After pruning the lower part of the shrub, which I could reach from the ground, I set up the ladder and began working on the upper half. Unfortunately the arborvitae was a little tall and my ladder a little short. In trying to trim the very top, I climbed a little too high and reached out a little too far, holding the hedge trimmer in one hand to get at the very top of the tree. Suddenly the ladder came out from under me and I fell hard, coming down on top of it, with my left hand between me and the ladder. Fortunately the hedge trimmer landed off to the side, Unfortunately, in my attempt to break the fall, I broke my left wrist, a rather severe break.
I was hospitalized that night and had surgery the following morning. The surgeon immobilized my hand and wrist with a device called an external fixator. For the next eight weeks my left hand was not very useful. Dressing in the morning became a challenge. Brushing my teeth was more difficult. Tying a neck tie, something I’ve done without thinking for 45 years, became a nearly impossible task.
I tell that story because I came to a new appreciation of my left hand as a result of that experience. I’m a right-handed person and for all of my life my left hand has been a sort of neglected appendage, at least in my mind. On that fateful September afternoon I came to a new appreciation of the importance of my left hand to the rest of my body.
In looking more carefully at Paul’s analogy of the human body to the body of Christ later in this letter, I noticed two things. In one place Paul says that every part of the body is important; and a member who might be perceived as less important should not downplay his or her role as part of the larger body. Paul says, “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.”
Then Paul immediately begins addressing the situation from the opposite point of view, from the point of view of members often deemed more dominate or important. “The eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you,’” he writes, “nor again the head to the feet, ‘I have no need of you.’ On the contrary,” Paul continues, “the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable….”
And so Paul addresses two issues: First, the tendency to underestimate the value of our role in the body of Christ; and second, to underestimate the value of other’s roles in that same body.
A wonderful old fable set in India speaks to the point. A water bearer in that country had two large pots. Each hung on either end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master’s house, the cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water to his master's house.
Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. The poor cracked pot on the other hand was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream.
"I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you."
"Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?"
"I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said.
The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, "As we return to the master's house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path." Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some. But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again the pot apologized to the bearer for its failure.
The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot’s side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you water them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house."
Each of us has our own unique flaws. While we are all cracked pots in one way or another, nothing goes to waste in God's great economy. We need not be afraid of our flaws. If we acknowledge them, they can be the cause of beauty. Our weakness placed in the hands of God can become strength.
Commitment, placing our lives in God’s hands is the key. Committing can at times be a difficult thing to do, however.
In a "Hagar the Horrible" comic strip awhile back, Hagar is inciting his troops. "This is the moment we've been waiting for men! The moment we do battle with the enemy! Is everyone here?"
"YES!" they shout.
Hagar continues: "OK men -- repeat after me: 'I am a Viking Warrior!'"
"I AM A VIKING WARRIOR!" they shout.
"And I will fight to the death for what I believe!"
There is silence in the next two frames, then in the third frame Hagar asks: "OK, why aren't you repeating after me?"
One meek Viking speaks for them all: "Hagar, the men would like to change that to 'and I will fight hard until it's time for dinner.”
Knowing who we are, knowing why we are here, what we are called to do is important in life. It may be a large and significant role. It may seem small and relatively unimportant to us. In the final analysis it is not our place to judge. In the final analysis it is our place to be faithful to our calling.
ILLUSTRATION: Compassion
The nurse took the tired, anxious serviceman to the old man’ bedside. "Your son is here," she said to the old man.
She had to repeat the words several times before the patient opened his eyes. Heavily sedated because of the pain of his heart attack, he dimly saw the young uniformed Marine standing outside the oxygen tent. He reached out his hand. The Marine wrapped his toughened fingers around the old man's limp ones, squeezing a message of love and encouragement. The nurse brought a chair so that the Marine could sit beside the bed. All through the night, the young Marine sat there in the poorly lighted ward, holding the old man's hand and offering him words of love and strength.
Occasionally, the nurse suggested that the Marine move away and rest awhile. He refused. Whenever the nurse came into the ward, the Marine was oblivious to her and the night noises of the hospital - the clanking of the oxygen tank, the laughter of the night staff exchanging greetings, the cries and moans of the other patients. Now and then, she heard him say a few gentle words. The dying man said nothing, only held tightly to his son all through the night.
Along towards dawn, the old man died. The Marine released the now lifeless hand he had been holding and went to tell the nurse. While she did what she had to do, he waited. Finally, she returned. She started to offer words of sympathy, but the Marine interrupted her.
"Who was that man?" he asked.
The nurse was startled. "Why…he was your father," she answered.
"No, he wasn't," the Marine replied. "I never saw him before in my life."
"Then why didn't you say something when I left you with him?"
"I knew right away there had been a mistake, but I also knew he needed his son, and his son just wasn't here. When I realized that he was too sick to tell whether or not I was his son, knowing how much he needed me, I stayed."
Knowing who we are, knowing why we are here, what we are called to do is important in life. It may be a large and visible and significant role. It may seem small and relatively unimportant. In the final analysis what matters most is not that we have been successful, as the world judges success, but whether we have been faithful to the God who calls, the God revealed in Jesus Christ.