"To the extent one of us is diminished, we are all diminished"

I can't claim the title of my blog as an original thought; it is actually the tagline of our local family services organization. I had the privilege of attending a fundraiser lunch for their organization this week and was reminded of their tagline again. 

It's been rolling around in my head this week, particularly because I've been reading 1 Corinthians 12 where Paul talks about how there is one body, but many parts. I always find Paul's writing on this topic so frank and easy to understand. We all know how the body works. We all know as he says, "If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be?" We all know the body could not function as perfectly as it does if it were just one part. 

Isn't that so true about the body of Christ too? I love how Paul goes on to talk about the spiritual gifts and how many different ones there are. Those are part of the body too. We could not all be teachers or miracle workers. We do not all have the gift of healing. But how good it is that some of our members do! 

I know that our family services organization is not a "Christian" organization. I do know that their executive director is and she is wonderful. So whether their tagline stems from a Christian worldview I don't know, but I do know that often in the secular world we run into things that do stem from the Word even if they aren't specifically meant to. I know that family services does so much good in our community for those who may otherwise fall through the cracks, get lost, and be abused. They are a vital part of the body. 

I am finding more and more that I must confront the pride that creeps into the body (and I'm speaking here of my own body, but also the larger body of Christ). This passage speaks so clearly to that thought: 

"But God combined the members of the body and has given greater honor to the parts that lacked it, so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it." 

Wow. 

There is so much room for pride to come in there. There is so much room for us as humans to pull ahead and clutch our successes to our chests and not take part in the honoring or the suffering of others. 

We know in a perfect world the above passage would work. This would run so smoothly and the body would perform like Michael Phelps'. Perfectly. We would feel the sting of rejection when a child is left fatherless. We would feel the suffering of a young mother who has nowhere to turn and nothing left to hold. We would rejoice when someone graduates from college or gets married or whatever. 

But we don't live in a perfect world and no one else does either. And that's where I get stuck. How do we join in the suffering of the entire body? That seems so daunting when we consider how much suffering goes on. How do we understand better the suffering that Jesus endured and become more like him? 

I know these are questions I will wrestle with for life. I know my own pride of somehow thinking I am better than others will be something I will wrestle with for life. I also know that I do have an opportunity to make sure those around me and those I come in contact with are not diminished. I know I couldn't live without my fingers, toes, eyes, ears............. 

Neighboring

Two specific instances have gotten me thinking about being a neighbor.

About a month ago we bought some new furniture and so returned the couch our landlords were letting us use to it's original owner -- another family across town. We took the couch back, and the wife of the family, Suzie, was so kind and friendly and asked us all kinds of questions about our wedding, life together, etc. She knows our landlords pretty well and started asking us about our neighbors and if we'd met them yet. We said we had, or at least a few right around us.

The amazing thing was Suzie went on to talk about most of them, particularly the family who lives right next to us, like she knew them. She asked about their children and if the mother was feeling better after being very sick. She kept telling us she was soo glad we lived out there and could "do ministry" to those people right where we were living.

I went away from that conversation feeling a bit guilty (I know Suzie did not intend this with her words) and thinking that we had not been very intentional with getting to know our neighbors and reach out to them. After a little while I brushed it off as being busy and getting married (no small feat!) and being gone on weekends and evenings so often.

But then there was the second instance that got me thinking even more. Last weekend our good friends Ashley and Noel stopped by to see us on their whirlwind fundraising tour. Noel is going into full time ministry so they were going around Indiana visiting people to talk about their ministry and they came to our home for lunch. They shared with us that the story of the Good Samaritan (or " Good Neighbor" as some people say) had been impacting them greatly as they talked and thought about the concept of neighboring. I liked how they used "neighboring" as a verb, not just a noun as in "to be a neighbor" which implies action, not just passivity as in "I am a neighbor."

It really got me thinking even more about our neighbors and how I wanted to reach out to them in some way. I knew the Lord was putting that more on my heart and I'd really been thinking about it and praying about it this week.

In my mind neighboring is being proactive and intentional. Putting ourselves out there and taking a risk with people sometimes to be a person of love and Jesus to them. I don't have many "deep" thoughts on this, but it's a learning process I suppose.

So then last night I felt like the Lord answered some prayers through a little black and white dog.

Our neighbors, the ones I mentioned before, adopted this little puppy that tends to roam the neighborhood. I'd noticed earlier that the mom (the one who was very sick) was outside with the puppy and her three year old son. We've met the rest of the family (dad and three kids) but never the mom. It is obvious by looking at her that she has gone through some sort of cancer, but that she is hopefully on the upswing. By this I mean she has a very tired, gaunt sort of look with very short cropped hair like it is just growing back in. She looks much older than a woman her age should.

Rob and I are still sorting through wedding photos so I suggested we take the computer outside and sit on the steps to enjoy the evening and look at our photos.

Well, as little puppies are apt to do, it quickly found us and soon behind it did the mom, Leanne, and Jacob, her little son. It's amazing how a small animal who has no idea you're even talking about it will open doors of conversation. We chatted with Leanne for about half an hour mostly about the dog (it chews), her kids (the two older ones like Jacob but not each other), our apple tree (they're real, not crab apples!) and with Jacob who seriously needs Leanne to interpret for him because she is the only one who understands him. He's absolutely precious though and has the funniest little laugh. It's very clear Leanne loves him and he is such a good little boy.

Eventually the dog came back and they drifted away to their yard, but it was obvious to us that Leanne was interested in conversation and we felt good about that. It was like a small foot was wedged in a door that needs just a small amount of pushing open.

As we went into the house I said to Rob how good it was to see the faithfulness of the Lord opening that door. My next step I think will be to make some bread (we have lots of zucchinis for zucchini bread!) and share with our neighbors. Seems like a small act, but I think neighboring starts small and that's good.

A domestic god and goddess

As part of our weekly share in our local CSA farm (more about that in another post but check out their website at www.victoryacres.org if you're interested in a local CSA farm) Rob and I received a head of cabbage.

Being the domestic goddess that I am, I obviously had no idea what to make with a head of cabbage. But determined not to waste such a pretty vegetable, I looked up cabbage in one of my cookbooks and found a recipe for shredded cabbage with old fashioned dressing. Right... whatever that means.

But Rob and I persevered and after staining my hands purple shredding the cabbage and Rob getting a good laugh that his dressing was turning into an omelette at the bottom of the saucepan, we produced a semblance of a coleslaw salad that was actually pretty good. It grew on us as we ate it with the rest of our dinner.