Epiphany 3, Year C | I Corinthians 12:12-31
St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church
January 23, 2022
the Rev. Jonathan Hanneman
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“…you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.” – I Corinthians 12:27[1]
As most of you know, I was out sick last week. The lab test I took said it wasn’t COVID, but whatever it was, I haven’t felt that bad in years. My throat had an odd tickle on Tuesday night, and by Wednesday morning, I was coughing and snuffling and down with a major headache. I wasn’t up to much of anything until Monday. Tuesday I returned to the office, but Wednesday saw me wiped out again. I emailed Sarah and another appointment that I wouldn’t be in until noon, lay down on our sofa, and suddenly woke up more than two hours later, feeling much better. I’ve been pretty good since then, although I’m still being careful not to overdo anything for a while.
My wife, Shannon, will tell you that I’m bad at being sick. My mind is constantly running, which makes it hard for me to keep still, even when I don’t feel well. I’ll rest for a little while, but all the brain activity leads to a rapid build-up of fidgety energy. After a short time, I always find myself hopping from project to project around the house. I’ll bustle here and there feeling worse and worse until Shannon reminds me that the best way to feel better would be to rest. So I begrudgingly sit back down for a few minutes until the fidgets build back up and I start on something new.
This cold, however, refused to allow me to follow my normal pattern. I had no choice: simply being awake and dragging myself from room to room was exhausting. So I slept and rested. As much as I like to take care of everything myself, I couldn’t. I had to ask for help and rely on others. And even without me trying to direct and manage and fix and control, the world kept moving. Sarah, Debbie, and our volunteers kept the church office running smoothly. Deacon Anne and the Circles of Hope continued providing our congregation pastoral care. And we were even able to celebrate our regular Thursday and Sunday services thanks to Mother Jeanne, Father Peter and Deacon Phil.
At Tuesday evening’s vestry meeting I mentioned how thankful I was to know that everything could run well even without me. Someone joked, “Well then, what do you think that means?” Before I even thought about it I heard myself saying, “When I’m sick, I can sleep!” I don’t have to worry. I don’t have to do everything myself. If I need a break, it’s okay for me to take one. I’m not alone. I have support. I’m part of a larger system, and that system is healthy and robust enough to withstand some bumps along the road.
It’s easy for me to think I always have to be in control. Rugged individualism teaches me that if I can do it myself, I should do it myself, no matter what it might cost. I’m the only one I can trust to get the job done—or at least to get it done right. I’m responsible to impose my vision upon the world around me. If I fail, everything I’ve worked for is destined to fall apart. But that’s not how things have to be, and today the Apostle Paul is trying to remind us of a different way.
When Paul talks about “spiritual gifts” or uses body metaphors, we often approach what he says from an individualistic viewpoint: what part of the body am I? What’s my gift? Some churches give their people tests to help them determine how their interests and skills align with certain popular categories of “giftings.” Personally, I’m not a big fan of those. They can be helpful to a certain extent, but there are a number of concerns built into them. For example, have you noticed how no one’s ever a toe? Or what about a strand of hair or a sweat gland or even one of the less popular internal organs? How in the world would you determine who the appendix is?
It’s natural to want to know what we are when we hear these metaphors—and to hope we’re something important—but I think all that really does is distract us from Paul’s point.
When I was sick last week, no single part of my body had a definitive knowledge of what was going on. However, certain parts automatically made adjustments to support other parts. Muscles slowed their actions to alleviate a throbbing headache. A surge of activity in my immune system meant other parts of my body conserved energy by making me sleep. Systems that don’t seem particularly useful under normal circumstances jumped in to do the work they needed to while others stepped back or altered functions to support and heal the greater whole. I wasn’t thinking about any of it, but even without conscious direction, my body knew exactly what it needed to do.
That’s what Paul’s trying to emphasize here. He doesn’t want us to segregate people into distinct categories or restrict what they’re able to do within the community based on how we expect certain roles to operate. Paul’s entire message here, the whole body and breath metaphor he’s referencing, isn’t a lesson in division. It’s a call for unity.
A body is one. We can look at it from the outside and see how different sections operate or support each other, but from the inside, every single part is simply doing what it knows how to do. A finger doesn’t understand that it’s unique in its ability to touch or grasp. White blood cells have no clue that they specialize in fighting off infection. Each simply does what they do to the best of their ability. The nervous system regulates the circulatory system that carries nutrients from the digestive system throughout the musculoskeletal system which offers structure and protection back to the nervous system. They’re all completely interdependent. You can isolate portions for study, but none can survive by itself—each needs the support of the other.
And we should note that body parts sometimes work at cross purposes or don’t even necessarily like each other. Fingernails, trying to alleviate an itch, sometimes damage the skin. But that doesn’t make them enemies. And the nose isn’t particularly fond of the armpit. Yet they’re still part of the same body. They may not understand each other; they may even question each other’s existence at times. But all do what they do in service of the greater whole.
Likewise, we, as a church, are one single body animated by one Sacred Breath. Each of us may have an individual function, but that individual aspect isn’t the point. The point is how we support the body. None of us work in isolation—we all really do need each other. And it’s okay if your role needs to change or if you need to rest. Your responsibility may be to allow others to step in and carry you for a time. Likewise, now may be your season to offer more support or take on certain new functions for the good of the greater whole. It’s important to allow everyone to do their job. None of us need to go it alone—you’re part of a larger, robust system. Support is available. If you need a break, it’s okay to take one. You don’t have to do everything yourself, and you don’t have to worry. When you’re sick, you can sleep!
“…you are the body of Christ.”[2]
[1] All Bible quotations are from the NRSV unless otherwise noted.
[2] I Corinthians 12:27a