Making Space
1 Corinthians 12:12-31a
January 21, 2007
University Christian Church, Seattle, WA
Rev. Sandy Messick.
- I was at a clergy meeting once where the discussion turned to the question of how we welcome visitors.
- There were many ideas expressed: some talked about the greeters they had at the doors, or the follow up calls they made, or the notes they put into the bulletin. One church I know takes a loaf of fresh made bread to visitors each Sunday afternoon. There were many ideas about how we welcome visitors. But then the talked turned to who we welcome.
- One pastor asked, “What about the ones who sing with their hands above their heads, or speak in tongues, or fall to their knees during prayers? We need to be a church that creates space for them.
- The conversation reminded me of a song by one of my favorite Christian rock groups, Casting Crowns:
- One of the verses says: “A traveler is far away from home, he sheds his coat and quietly sinks into the back row, the weight of their judgmental glances tells him that his chances are better out on the road.”
- Chorus: But if we are the body, why aren’t His arms reaching? Why aren’t his hands healing? Why aren’t his words teaching? And if we are the body, Why aren’t his feet going? Why is his Love not showing them there is a way?
- Paul, in his letter to the Corinthians, reminds us that we are the body of Christ.
- Granted he wrote those words to a church long ago, but has the church changed so much?
- The first Christian Church of Corinth was a church divided. Arguments raged inside the sanctuary and outside in the parking lot about who’s gifts were most needed, who was most valuable. It was a church divided by selfishness, and self-centeredness, and self-righteousness, and an “I’m in so you must be out,” mentality.
- And Paul said, “Stop! Listen. You’re all in, you’re all needed, and the body can’t function without you.
- The hand can’t say to the eye, I don’t need you. The foot can’t say to the elbow, I don’t need you. The front teeth can’t say to the tongue, I don’t need you. Because all are created in the image of God, and all are needed in the body of Christ.
- Still, I suppose it’s human nature to want to gather with people like us. So we still try to create churches where everyone looks alike.
- There was a recent article in the newspaper about diversity in the church, and it held up several local churches who are intentionally multi-cultural, and who intentionally seek to be diverse. The article reminded the readers of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s observation that Sunday morning is the most segregated hour in America. And he was right then. And for the most part, he’s right today. And there are lots of reasons for that, but regardless of the reasons, the truth holds. For the most part, our churches are made up of very similar people: in backgrounds, in beliefs, in culture, and in practice.
- It’s true of us. I know we’d like to think of ourselves as diverse. And thankfully we do have some diversity here. We welcome people regardless of sexual orientation, or ability or nationality. But look around, for the most part, we look a lot alike. And to an even greater extent, we think a lot alike. Though we proudly proclaim we welcome believers, doubters, and seekers, and I know we mean that, I’m just not sure how well we welcome believers who believe differently than we do. And I’m not sure how well we provide room for doubters to express their doubts. And I don’t think we do a very good job of providing space for seekers to learn about our Christian story, and to have their questions answered.
- The truth is, we’re more comfortable when we’re more alike. That same article in the newspaper talked about how difficult it is to be a multi-cultural church and to have to engage different traditions, and to have to participate in and support different worship styles.
- But the trouble is, when we don’t intentionally seek diversity, and welcome diversity, and engage our diversity, we end up being a congregation of legs, hopping around from place to place
- Oh yes, we can certainly get somewhere
- But we have no eyes to see where we’re going
- No hands to reach out and serve
- No hearts to open up in love
Church can’t survive for long as only a leg, hopping around.
- And God knew that and God knows that. So instead, God sends us people with a variety of gifts and tells us to welcome them
- And God sends us people with a variety of ways to serve and tells us to honor them
- And God sends us people with a variety of understandings, traditions, biases, and beliefs and tells us to make space for them.
- It might be easier if we all looked alike, thought alike, and acted alike, if we were all say, the big toe. But God knows, we wouldn’t get very far. And we wouldn’t be the Body of Christ.
- In the Body of Christ, there is room enough for all. In the Body of Christ, there must be space enough for all.
VI. Perhaps you’ve heard this story. Once there was a young man named Bill. He has wild hair, wears a T-shirt with holes in it, jeans and no shoes. This was literally his wardrobe for his entire four years of college. He is brilliant. Kinda esoteric and very, very bright. He became a Christian while attending college.
Across the street from the campus is a well-dressed, very conservative church. They want to develop a ministry to the students, but are not sure how to go about it. One day Bill decides to go there. He walks in with no shoes, jeans, his T-shirt, and wild hair. The service has already started and so Bill starts down the aisle looking for a seat.
The church is completely packed and he can’t find a seat. By now people are looking a bit uncomfortable, but no one says anything. Bill gets closer and closer and closer to the pulpit and when he realizes there are no seats, he just squats down right on the carpet. (Although perfectly acceptable behavior at a college fellowship, trust me, this had never happened in this church before!) By now the people are really uptight, and the tension in the air is thick.
About this time, the minister realizes that from way at the back of the church, a deacon is slowly making his way toward Bill. Now the deacon is in his eighties, has silver-gray hair, a three-piece suit, and a pocket watch. A godly man, very elegant, very dignified, very courtly. He walks with a cane and as he starts walking toward this boy, everyone is saying to themselves, You can’t blame him for what he’s going to do. How can you expect a man of his age and of his background to understand some college kid on the floor?
It takes a long time for the man to reach the boy. The church is utterly silent except for the clicking of the man’s cane. All eyes are focused on him. You can’t even hear anyone breathing. The people are thinking, The minister can’t even preach the sermon until the deacon does what he has to do. And now they see this elderly man drops his cane on the floor.
With great difficulty he lowers himself and sits down next to Bill and worships alongside him so he won’t be alone. Everyone chokes up with emotion. There seems to not be a dry eye in the entire congregation.
When the minister finally gains control he says, "What I’m about to preach, you will never remember. What you have just seen, you will never forget."
Source: Rebecca Manley Pippert, retold by Alice Gray More Stories for the Heart compiled by Alice Gray (Portland: Multnomah Press, 1997), pp. 32-33.
And so it is. For we are the body of Christ. Amen.