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H. Michael Brewer
Crescent Springs Presbyterian
January 18, 2004

STARTING WITH ME
1 Corinthians 12:27

    Each of Paul’s letters has a distinctive character. The letter to the Romans is Paul’s great systematic theology, his best
effort to give an overview of Christian doctrine. Galatians is the apostle’s passionate defense of salvation by grace. Philippians
is friendly and warm, an exchange between good friends.  The Corinthian letters, especially 1 Corinthians, offer Paul’s
prescription for congregational health. The Christian church in Corinth had every problem you could think of, and those
problems created a divided, squabbling, sickly congregation. In these letters, Paul is trying to fix that.
    The wonderful thing about reading the Corinthian letters is that no matter where you worship or where you’ve been, no
matter what difficulties your own church may have, by the time you spend fifteen minutes in Corinth you end up feeling great
about your own congregation. Believe me, the First Reformed Church of Discord and Dysfunction looks like a heavenly place
when compared to Corinth.
    Paul’s highest priority in writing to Corinth is the theology of congregational health. He wants to heal wounds and help this
argumentative bunch of Christians learn how to be the body of Christ. In fact, it’s in this letter that Paul really unfolds his belief
that the church is Christ’s body in the world. With that in mind, much of this letter is devoted to advice for strengthening the
church—Christian bodybuilding, if you will.
    We’re only going to look at one of Paul’s prescriptions today, namely, “If you want to belong to a healthy church, begin by
getting healthy yourself.” This is what Paul is getting at when he says, “You are the body of Christ and individually members of
it.” As a Christian you are part of a greater whole, and to some degree the health of the whole depends upon the health of
each part.
    I once got caught up in a story that still troubles me, but it’s been long enough that I can share the story with you. Some
years ago, I received a letter in the office. The letter described someone in out congregation, someone I could easily
recognize, and asked if I would pass along a second letter to that person. The second letter was inside the envelope and
sealed in an envelope of its own.
    This felt a little odd to me. I started to throw it away, but that didn’t seem right. I almost read the other letter to see if it
was worth bothering with, but that didn’t seem right, either. So I phoned the person in question, told him the circumstances,
and I asked if he wanted the letter. He said, sure, send it along. So I did.
    A couple of days later he showed up in the office. He said, “Mike, this letter is awful.” And then he read it to me. It went
something like this.
    Dear Friend, you don’t know me, but I visited your church last Sunday. You were the first person who spoke to me, but it
wasn’t a pleasant experience. I was trying to figure out where to go next, and I suppose I must have been blocking people. At
any rate, you said to me, “Can I get through here please?” and then pushed past me. Your tone of voice was so impatient and
gruff that I was shocked. Perhaps you were in hurry to do something important. All I know is that I left without staying for the
service. I have no desire to be in a congregation of people like you. That was my first visit to your church. Thanks to you it is
also my last.
    When he finished, I asked him, “Is that how it happened?”
    He said, “Yeah. I hardly remember that woman, but I was running late and I guess I was rude. But is that fair for her to
judge our whole congregation by how I acted?”
    Of course, it’s not fair, but it does work that way. Happily, I have far more often had the opposite experience. I couldn’t
count the number of times someone has said to me, “On our first visit here we met so-and-so, and they were so helpful and
friendly. It made us feel this was a place we wanted to be.”
    But let me be clear. It’s not just that the behavior of one person can affect the image of a congregation; one person can
affect the very life of a church. Some time or other, I’ll bet you’ve seen this in a committee meeting or an office or a classroom
or even in a family. One person’s negativity or bitterness or anger or fear can shift a whole group in that direction. On the
other hand, one positive person, one thoughtful person, one light-hearted person can elevate a whole group, alter its character,
and change the atmosphere.
    There’s a story I’ve long cherished about allied prisoners of war during World War II in a prison camp on the River Kwai.
The conditions there were deplorable: forced labor, physical abuse, inadequate shelter, no medical care, and near starvation
rations. The awful conditions in the camp dehumanized the prisoners. They stole food from the sick and wounded. They
informed on each other for a handful of rice. When a man died they pounced on his meager belongings like vultures.
    One day a group of these men had finished their day’s work and were ready to return to their quarters. They stood for
inspection as a guard counted their tools and found one shovel missing. The angry guard confronted the prisoners and
demanded to know who had hidden the shovel. No one stepped forward. The guard repeated his demand. Again no one
spoke or moved. The guard became enraged, drew his side-arm, and told the group that he was going to start killing
prisoners, one at a time, until the guilty party confessed or until everyone was dead. The outcome made no difference to him.
    At that, one prisoner stepped out of the group and explained that he had lost his shovel in the river’s swift current. The
guard knocked the man down. He cursed him, kicked him and pistol-whipped him. In fact, the guard continued to beat the
man long after he was dead. After this brutal spectacle the guard gathered up the day’s tools and only then did he discover
that he had been mistaken earlier. In fact, every tool was accounted for. There was no missing shovel. The dead man had lied
to save his comrades.
    But the story doesn’t end there. After that day, the prison camp began to change. Oh, there was no change in the
viciousness of the guards. The living conditions didn’t improve. But that little community of prisoners—they changed. They
started covering for one another and helping each other on work details. When someone was injured, they watched over him.
They shared their meager rations with the weakest and sickest. I guess they learned to love each other. Somehow one man’s
act of love, transformed the whole camp.
    That’s a picture of the church at its best. This is one of the wonderful graces and mysteries of belonging to the body of
Christ. Somehow we are all tied together in Christ. The act of one member can be a help to all the rest. A friend who knows
something about physiology tells me that when one arm is injured and inactive and losing muscle, working the opposite arm
has a spillover effect. Building up my right arm can actually strengthen my left arm while it’s in a cast or a sling.
    God has granted the same grace to the body of Christ. When you are strong in your faith and diligent in your daily walk,
your brothers and sisters in Christ are strengthened, too. Do you remember the story of the paralyzed man who is brought to
Jesus by two friends who carry him on a pallet? They can’t get through the crowds, so they actually lower the paralyzed man
through the roof of the house where Jesus is teaching. But here’s the best part of the story, the part everyone overlooks. Luke
says that Jesus heals the paralytic of his guilt and sickness “when he saw their faith,” (Luke 5:20 NRSV). Jesus reaches to this
crippled man not just because of his own faith, but also because of the faith of his friends. The faith of the people around him
helps to get this guy back on his feet.
    There’s an African proverb, “When the thumb hurts, the whole body becomes a thumb.” I take that to mean that the health
of even the smallest member affects the life of the whole body—whether it’s a physical body or a congregational body. Here’s
how Paul says it. “Do you not know that a little yeast leavens the whole batch of dough?” (1 Corinthians 5:6 NRSV).
    You and I each contribute the yeast of our own lives to this wonderful mix that is CSPC, and that yeast has a
transformative power beyond our expectations. You and I are Christ’s body and individually members of it. One way to
insure a healthy, strong, vital body of Christ in CSPC is to build healthy, strong, vital members. Isn’t God good to give us to
each other? Isn’t God wonderful to let us help each other along the way? When we flex our faith, when we practice our
prayers, when we walk the walk, we strengthen ourselves individually and we strengthen ourselves as a body by God’s good
grace.

Soli Deo Gloria!