One Body to Heal

Today's readings: Psalms 51, 148; 2 Kings 23:36-24:17; 1 Corinthians 12:12-26; Matthew 9:27-34

If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it.

- 1 Corinthians 12:26

Today’s reading from 1 Corinthians can be read on many levels. It is often used to describe the importance of each person’s role in the body of Christ and to celebrate the many gifts they contribute. It also describes the importance of diversity within the church. Read in context with today’s healing story in Matthew, there is yet another meaning.

When one part of the body is sick, it depends on the others for healing. An ailing tooth does not walk itself into a dentist’s office, but relies on the feet. A foot with a splinter cannot remedy itself, but depends on the hands to remove it. Hands that tremble from hunger cannot feed themselves, but rely on the mouth and teeth to chew and swallow. Each part is not only equally important, it is equally interdependent.

As members of the body of Christ, we must rely on each other and be present for each other in times of illness and distress. None of us is completely self-sufficient. We receive care when we need it, and we offer care when it is needed. And as the feet don’t feel burdened by the tooth, and the hands don’t feel burdened by the feet, we do so not out of obligation nor to secure help for ourselves in the future, but because we are one. The well-being of one is inseparable from the well-being of others.

Christ was extravagant in his love was for all people. Christ was extravagant in his healing. As we are now his body, we are called to the same extravagance. Let us heal not out of duty, but out of extravagant love.

Evening readings: Psalms 142, 65

The Communion Equation

Today's readings: Psalms 89:1-18, 147:1-11; 2 Kings 22:14-23:3; 1 Corinthians 11:23-34; Matthew 9:9-17

The Lord’s Supper – communion – is the oldest of Christian traditions. It is breathtaking in its meaning and simplicity. Every time we partake of the bread and cup, we remember the meaning of Christ’s sacrifice for us, and strengthen the bonds of our faith community. It unites us not only with those at our particular table sharing our particular cup, but with Christians across time and distance.

Did you know the potluck is an equally longstanding tradition? When the early Christians of Corinth gathered for communion, they first shared an Agape Meal (or Love Feast). Everyone brought food to share and they ate in common. After a time, the original intent of the meal was diminished: some who contributed more food felt they should
have a larger portion; some began to get drunk; some were almost as hungry when they left as when they arrived. Divisions and resentments became part of the meal and – worse yet – these attitudes were carried to the communion table. The meal no longer strengthened bonds, but division. Have we seen this happen?

Disagreement is inevitable. An uncharitable attitude is not. At Christ’s table all are equal. Christ himself ate with tax collectors, sinners and all manner of “outcasts” from his community (Matt 9:10-13). When we gather as Christians, we should share our gifts freely and equally. Bringing more food (or money, or time, or a particular talent, or…) to the table does not entitle us to a larger share or more influence. Having less to bring does not mean we go away less satisfied or unheard. Giving and receiving are two sides of the same equation, and we can find ourselves on either side at any time. In this holy algebra, Christ is the sign of equality who unites and balances us.

Evening readings: Psalms 1, 33

The Message IS The Miracle

Today's readings: Psalms 42, 146; 2 Kings 22:1-13; 1 Corinthians 11:2-22; Matthew 9:1-8

Claims of miraculous healings have long been the fundraising bread and butter of a certain vein of preacher. Who among us wouldn't experience an emotional response to seeing the lame walk and hearing a blind person gasp in wonder as she gained or regained her sight? For many spectators, such miracles cement the divine authority of the person alleging to perform them. Without making any judgments on their authenticity, we can still question why these miracles seem to be prized above the simple message of the Gospel: "Your sins are forgiven."

When Jesus told a lame man his sins were forgiven, people accused him of blasphemy. Jesus had to heal the man's infirmity to prove his authority came from God. Jesus's words indicate he was exasperated by having to appease them in this manner, so which action do we believe he valued more? There were lots of professional miracle workers in Jesus' time, so it must have been frustrating that his unique message was lost in the "common" miracle.

While we are wise not to believe every religious claim we hear, we also need to be careful not to believe someone just because they manage to impress us – whether by miracle, education, success or any other factor. We Christians love our miracle and success stories, but they are never more important than the truth they point to. A pastor is not judged by the size of her congregation, but by the message she imparts to them. A congregation is not judged by its material wealth, but by the wealth of the message it shares with the world. And a message is not judged by its eloquence or poetic virtues, but by its effectiveness in helping people understand: "Your sins are forgiven."

Success and authenticity are by no means mutually exclusive, but any time the reputation or ego of a person or organization begins to eclipse the purity of this message, we should be wary of the intent. And no matter how humble the source, if the message is pure we need look no further for its authority.

Evening readings: Psalms 102, 133

Faith and Friction

Today's readings: Psalms 5, 145; 2 Kings 21:1-18; 1 Corinthians 10:14-11:1; Matthew8:28-34

Early followers of Christ lived in a culture where almost every corner had a temple or idol to one deity or another. This created complicated social situations where they had to balance being a loving neighbor (or business partner or customer) against upholding  their principles.   In today's reading from Corinthians, Paul writes about eating meat sacrificed to idols or demons – which would have been forbidden under Jewish law. Instead of declaring such actions sinful or not, he wrote: "'All things are lawful,' but not all things are beneficial. 'All things are lawful,' but not all things build up" (1 Cor 10:23). He advised them their actions should be chosen to strengthen their convictions, and to provide strong witness to people around them.

We face similar challenges. Every day we are called to follow our principles even when they run contrary to social pressures, politics, employers, friends, family, foreign cultures, and fellow people of faith. In some situations, particularly matters of personal ethics, we may simultaneously be judged by some people as too pious, while others see us as terrible sinners. If we remain loving, it don't matter. Christ didn't worry about being called a glutton or a drunkard, and John the Baptist was just fine being a holy freak (Matt 11:18-19). Isn't it liberating to know our allegiance is never to public opinion, but to God, "for why is [our] freedom being judged by another’s conscience?" (v 29).

We are not a people bound by laws and technicalities of action and thought (no matter how much some people might cling to that model). We are a people freed by love and meant to love freely. Our faith is in constant friction with the world. It is up to us to decide whether that friction is a source of irritation, or a source of warmth like two hands rubbing together as if in prayer.

Evening readings: Psalms 82, 29

Too Good To Be False

Today's readings: Psalms 103, 150; 2 Kings 20:1-21; Acts 12:1-17; Luke 7:11-17

[H]e did not realize that what was happening with the angel’s help was real; he thought he was seeing a vision.

Acts 12:9

Have you heard the one about the pious man trapped on his roof by a rising flood? The army, the navy and the marines all came by in boats and offered to rescue him, but he said he was waiting for the Lord to save him. Eventually the flood overwhelmed him. When he got to heaven, he asked God why his prayers went unanswered. God said "I sent you three different boats!"

Peter – Jesus named him "the rock" for a couple reasons – wasn't much better. When an angel came to rescue him from prison, he thought it was a vision; luckily – having experienced visions before – he followed instructions anyway and was freed. When the prophet Isaiah told King Hezekiah the Lord would spare him from death for 15 years so he could lead his people out of bondage, the King wouldn't believe without any less a sign than the sun moving backwards (2 Kings 20:8-11).

Sometimes the Lord's ways aren't all that mysterious, and for some reason that seems to be a stumbling block to faith. We are called to be the hands and feet of Christ (John 14:12), but when those hands and feet aren't pierced with nails or emitting a holy glow, we can struggle to recognize ourselves and others as the answers to prayer. How would it change your perspective on life to realize the answer to your prayer might not be divine intervention, but divinely-inspired human intervention? Or to realize that your action (or maybe just your presence) is the most miraculous thing someone could hope for? After all, the Spirit dwells in each and every one of us. Think on that for a moment…

We are wary of offers that sound too good to be true. A miracle around every corner sounds like one of those. Maybe the wonderful truth is miracles of hope, healing, reconciliation, generosity and comfort are as common as dirt … as long as we are willing to get our hands dirty.

Evening readings: Psalms 117, 139