When a Foot Falters
Back in July, Claudia and I joined with some Bend friends on a Bike and Barge trip in the Netherlands. The small tour group lived aboard 120+ year old barge, the Angeline, that moved to the next village as we biked each day.
It really was a fine trip all around. Fine people. Cooperative weather. Amazing scenery. Excellent food. And only one self-inflicted wound. I chose to wear a pair of old hard-soled Chaco sandals most every day. As we spent days biking and walking and walking and biking, my feet took a pounding and by the end of the two weeks my right foot had developed a case of plantar fasciitis. If you know, you know.
Being a bit of a wimp, my foot captured most of my attention as I limped around the weeks that followed. I tended to it with ice and insoles and a night splint and stretching and other ideas Dr. Google had me try, but it persisted to make my walking around miserable. One small part of my body that I took for granted needed the rest of who I am to pay attention.
The broader lesson is obvious.
It’s no accident that Paul writes that the church, both local and global, is like our body. We enjoy unity amid vast diversity, and must work as a unit if we are to survive and be able to live out the Kingdom mandates. Listen to what he writes in 1 Corinthians 12.
The human body has many parts, but the many parts make up one whole body. So it is with the body of Christ. Some of us are Jews, some are Gentiles, some are slaves, and some are free. But we have all been baptized into one body by one Spirit, and we all share the same Spirit.
Yes, the body has many different parts, not just one part. If the foot says, “I am not a part of the body because I am not a hand,” that does not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear says, “I am not part of the body because I am not an eye,” would that make it any less a part of the body? If the whole body were an eye, how would you hear? Or if your whole body were an ear, how would you smell anything?
But our bodies have many parts, and God has put each part just where he wants it. How strange a body would be if it had only one part! Yes, there are many parts, but only one body. The eye can never say to the hand, “I don’t need you.” The head can’t say to the feet, “I don’t need you.”
In fact, some parts of the body that seem weakest and least important are actually the most necessary. And the parts we regard as less honorable are those we clothe with the greatest care. So we carefully protect those parts that should not be seen, while the more honorable parts do not require this special care. So God has put the body together such that extra honor and care are given to those parts that have less dignity. This makes for harmony among the members, so that all the members care for each other. If one part suffers, all the parts suffer with it, and if one part is honored, all the parts are glad.
There is plenty in this passage to chew on:
Part of something beyond myself
Made just as God intended
Arrogance and indifference
Big-tent mutuality
Understanding of the beauty of diversity
Celebrating varying gifts and talents
Caring for one another
and much more.
But my gimpy right foot makes me think about the group I travel with and how one person’s pain ought gain the attention of the whole bunch if we are to be effective.
Locally, we count ourselves part of a smaller but pretty healthy church family. We are multi-generational trending toward older and filled with people who remain important to us. Our group is generous, often surprisingly so. We have an off-budget account called the “No Needy Fund” that is routinely refreshed through giving beyond normal church support.
The idea stems from Acts 4:34, where the fledgling church shared resources to support the less fortunate among them. An active prayer chain for needs within the body keeps us in contact with one another, along with weekly emails with needs and updates. But still we, being thoroughly human, can do better when one of us is hurting or suffers from some plantar fasciitis of the soul. The point of the illustration lies in our necessary interconnectedness.
It’s worth time considering how to grow this in every church group, where no lame foot goes ignored. It’s good to recall that we play a team game, individually, where every member has a place and is worthy of support as they do their part in kingdom-building. Also, just like no part of me ignored my aching foot, members of a group each are called to be aware of needs and help as able.
Today, though, it seems like church is too-often viewed more as a commodity rather than a community. If the music is good and the messages are to my liking, I stay around, but my attachment is tentative and conditional. To see your church as the local body of Christ turns that on its head. Understanding that no group is perfect and will never meet all your expectations, its members join in, build bridges, serve, encourage, exhort, and look for ways to support those hurting, even if the payoff isn’t obvious.
Re-reading this a few times, it sounds a bit preachy and down on folks not pouring themselves into their local church. Sorry. No guilt here, more of a challenge to resist the draw to go it alone. We are called to run with a tribe, and the power in the illustration of “body” lies in that we are better able to face life together and to live out the Jesus mandate of “love God and love your neighbor” when we travel as a group.
Now that weeks have passed and my right foot is more or less healed, my whole body feels better, stronger, more able to live an active life. Maybe this week look for the one among you who is hurting, lonely, poor, in crisis, facing uncertainty, and
Listen to them.
Really see them.
Let others know of the need out of care, not gossip.
Then choose to be part of their path toward health.
It’s what a healthy body does.
Music, sure. How about piano this time around?
Bad jokes? Sure, we got ‘em
My 4-year-old granddaughter asked: "Where does poo come from?"
To make it simple, I said: "You just had breakfast?"
"Yes," she replied.
"Well, the food goes in your mouth down into your tummy. Our body takes all the good stuff it needs out of the food and then what"s left goes down to your bottom—and when you go to the toilet, that comes out as poo."
She looked confused and stared at me in stunned silence for a few seconds. Then she asked: "And Tigger?"
*****************
A businesswoman ordered a beautiful, expensive floral arrangement for the opening of her new outlet, and she was furious when it arrived with a ribbon which read,
"May You Rest In Peace."
Apologizing for the mishap, the florist finally got the businesswoman to calm down with the reminder that in some funeral home stood an arrangement bearing the words,
"Good Luck in Your New Location."