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In This Moment
Year End Clearance
Last week at this time we were on the home stretch to Christmas Eve and chestnuts roasting on an open fire. Only days later, we are packing away the last vestiges of another almost-spent year. January issues of home decorating magazines foretold this story when they hit the newsstands at mid-December. Retailers hit the ground running with web-based clearance sales that started Christmas morning. The magazines are lined up to assist us in clearing out our closets, letting go of what we no longer need, and reorganizing what we decide to keep. Since the stores are about that same process, they are wooing us with low prices so they can clear out their stockrooms, get rid of everything they can, and reorganize what they have left. Such is the rhythm of a consumer-based culture. But this December-to-January transition can also be a time of reflection, a reorganization of our senses, and a recreation of our hopes and dreams. Closing the door of what is coming to an end, and embracing what is before us is the rhythm of life and faith.
What about your life, from this year passing, or any other year, would you like to let go of, pack up, and send out of your life for good? What experiences have given you their lessons, and are ready to be cleared away to make room for new growth and opportunity? Are there bruises to your ego that will heal if you stop beating your head against the wall for mistakes made long ago? What forgivenesses can you extend, and what offenses can you lay to rest that will lighten your load, and allow you to see the back wall of your emotional and spiritual closet? We talk a lot about our over-stressed society, but I suspect what we are at least partially suffering from is an inability to forgive ourselves and others. Forgiveness is a gift that makes room in our lives.
Making room in our lives means we can invest some energy and faith in our hopes and dreams. There is something expansive and glorious in lifting our heads, casting a vision of what we would most love for ourselves and our lives, and welcoming God to help us make them happen. It is a pleasurable prospect when we let ourselves believe God intends for us to live full, abundant lives, rich in new possibilities. I believe God delights in us as we enjoy our lives, making more of them at every chance we can. There is great beauty in a life lived with purpose and grace. What are dreams you have held captive and unrealized in your heart all these years? What would most please you to manifest into your life this year? Is learning a second language aching to speak its mind? Do travel plans tug at your heart, waiting to be set free? Does your soul dance when you think about a new job that will exercise your true gifts? Perhaps you are looking for just the right place to be of service, make a difference in someone else's life, and are itching to find that place? God is hoping these hopes, and dreaming these dreams with you, and has been all along.
Beyond the material focus of the holiday season, this time of year gives us a united, clearly-recognizable boundary of endings and new beginnings. In the cycle of life, and the cycle of faith, it is important to note these times, give ourselves permission to give to ourselves in the way we desire, and know that God stands close beside us as we make this transition once again.
Until next time, God's blessings.
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In This Moment
Gifts
Ordinary places are filled with Christmas magic today.
The grocery store was buzzing with activity early this afternoon. A full parking lot previewed bustling aisles of shoppers intent on filling their carts, and wishing each other," Happy Holidays," as they maneuvered among the festive displays and enticing scents of the season. The post office was the picture of calm. Most people have already sent their packages, avoiding last minute lines and late gift arrivals. The post office staff were serene, content to be almost done with helping people ship boxes of love and thoughtfulness around the world. My local coffee shop usually is filed to the brim with rushed, short-tempered, tight-lipped people who just want to keep moving. Not so today. Today, the coffee shop was half empty, but those who waited in line chatted easily with one another, waited patiently for their orders to be taken, and expressed holiday greetings to one and all.
Even though most of the gift sending is completed, and the gift wrapping will commence through dawn's breaking light on Christmas morning, these simple pleasures of community that reveal themselves in these days around Christmas are my favorite gifts.
As a child growing up in the Midwest, this eve of Christmas Eve would be the night my family would pile into our Chevrolet sedan to view the neighborhoods elegantly decorated with thousands of lights, and a few Santas and snowmen thrown in for good measure. Some homes appeared to have professional assistance in their displays, others shared a simple approach in a wreath-framed window or a garland-wrapped porch railing. All of them were beautiful, each a gift unto itself. When we came home we feasted on popcorn and hot chocolate while watching old holiday movies. Tonight I am walking through my neighborhood, which is filled with beautiful decorations, and will come back home for popcorn and hot chocolate, and see what the television has to offer from the old holiday classics. These are the gifts that keep on giving.
My holiday CD collection is limited in scope, but deep in tradition. There are special songs and hymns that evoke memories of past Christmases, and some I have forgotten during the year that surprise and delight me. I feel as though I have personal, in-house carolers at my disposal through the whole twelve days of Christmas. Blended with cookie scents and phone conversations with loved ones between here and Canada, the homeyness of Christmas fills my heart and soul.
Each of our holiday celebrations includes unique features and special memories, rekindled and relived each year. While I pause here to recall my own, I also cherish the tangible unity, the sense of peaceful anticipation that is gently easing its way forward to our doorsteps. God With Us is about to arrive. Welcome.
Until next time, God's blessings.
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In This Moment
Traveling to Bethlehem
Business and busyness abound today. With Christmas only five days away, UPS faces its twenty million deliveries, most malls have stretched open their hours, some from eight in the morning to eleven at night, and New York City scrambles through a mass transit strike. Temperatures in the mid-thirties have to be brushed aside as people walk, ride bikes, roller blade, or try to drive to work, finish their holiday shopping, and wrap up errands before the weekend. Focusing on that goal seems to have allowed these resilient people to summon up a resolve not unlike those united by a natural disaster. But as the chill eases in tonight, the stars are crisp and shimmery, and their is a stillness blanketing the earth.
In another time and place, Mary and Joseph are on their way to Bethlehem, perhaps setting up their camp for the night. The shepherds are penning their sheep under a moonlit sky, weary after a long day tending their flocks. Three men, traveling together on camels, are intent on monitoring the star they are following, in hopes of finding their way to a new king. Not facing a mass transit strike of their own, they must only deal with the reportedly cranky nature of camels, and the normally rough nature of travel in an ancient desert country. Elsewhere, shopkeepers, not hindered by extended hours, are closing their doors to go home to their families. The Temple in Jerusalem continues on as central focus of the Jewish faith, its leadership balancing itself between honoring God and appeasing the Roman Empire. Meanwhile, underneath all the normal, daily living, there is also a stillness, possibly not discernible to a country and a people long-wearied by political and religious oppression. But it is real nonetheless.
Sometimes, life sends us down unexpected turns at the most inconvenient times. Sometimes, life appears to be plodding on, every day passing as if merely a duplicate of all the others that have gone before. Sometimes we can't squeeze enough into a day of living. Sometimes we dread waking up because the day stretches before us as a long, lonely road. Our world and the ancient world are vastly different, but remarkably similar in the human experience in so many ways, especially in how we who inhabit this planet have come to understand and accept the rhythm of life. Somewhere, somehow, in all of this, we keep going. sometimes against our own better judgment, sometimes in wonder at the way things come together and work out.
These last days before Christmas, we seem to be tending to the frenzy of a season, frantically putting into place just the right packages, bows, platters and platitudes A transit strike was not a part of anybody's plan this week in New York City. But, the season still is, and continues. The mystery of the Christ's coming to be still whispers among us. I'm sure that Mary and Joseph were eager to be done with this census business so they could return home to Nazareth to raise their child in peace. Well, that journey took an inconvenient turn of events too. But, their journey continued, their child was born, and they got through it. Even more so , the mystery of the Christ's coming to be whispered among them all: Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, the wise men, the priests, the Pharisees, and the Roman Empire.
There is no denying the extraordinary change that comes into our ordinary lives each Christmas. It doesn't happen overnight, but slips in, unawares, all around us, until we stop, look into the night sky, and see the star that is leading us to the stillness in our hearts that recognizes and welcomes God With Us once again.
Until next time, God's blessings.
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In This Moment
Storytelling
It's the most wonderful time of the year, and there is even a Christmas song that reminds us of that simple reflection. Part of the lyrics from this classic, always sung by Andy Williams in my head, rekindles our connection to the tradition of recounting memories as we gather with friends and family. I can hear Andy now, telling us about, "scary ghost stories and tales of the glories of Christmases long, long ago."
Also very vivid in my mind is the face of a family friend, brought to tears from laughing so hard at the sight of my father trying to fit the too-large Christmas tree through our kitchen to its spot in the living room. For some reason that year, we had delayed purchasing a tree. As it was already December 23, our friend had felt compelled to take matters into her own hands. The tree eventually made it into the living room, but, of course, it was too tall, the trunk didn't fit into the stand, and even after we managed to stabilize it somehow, it took up more than its share of space. Decorating it was a fiasco unto itself. As the season progressed, the under-watered tree dropped needles as if it were auditioning for the next Charlie Brown Christmas special. Whenever our friend popped in for coffee during the holidays that year she asked after the tree, watched my father roll his eyes, and then they would both burst out laughing.
But the story doesn't end there. The next year, feeling a desire to honor the memory of the tree, our friend presented us with a new coffee pot. It was a tall percolator, shaped like an abstract tree, and very, very green. She was quite pleased with herself, and laughed almost as hard as the year before. Although not my only Christmas story, it is one of my favorites. It has all the important features: drama, suspense, a compassionate deed, humor, and a tremendously joyful spirit. Unforgettable moments like these don't happen every day, and they deserve to be remembered.
Another Christmas memory comes from years later. Having just taken over managing a retail furniture store, I found myself on December 1 sitting on side-by-side boxes with my friend and supervisor, in a back room filled with merchandise. Both assistant managers had quit, and there was no time to hire and train anybody else until after the holiday season. We were short staffed due to illness, and the mall hours were extending to eight in the morning until eleven at night. Having worked together for a number of years already, we recognized that neither of us could manage the situation alone, and somehow we got through it. We have also managed to maintain our friendship, and will be spending Christmas together again this year, but under much less stressful circumstances. This is also one of my favorite Christmas stories because sometimes the Christmas spirit is one of endurance, perspective, gratitude and grace.
Each of us has stories spoken and stories unspoken that walk with us as we move closer to our celebrations of the birth of God With Us. A recent PBS special, "From Jesus to Christ," which focuses on the development of Christianity after the death of Jesus and the destruction of the temple at Jerusalem, speaks of the forty year oral tradition between these events and the first written documents about the life of Jesus and his followers. During those years in which Judaism and Christianity were still one faith, the oral tradition kept Jesus' memory alive among people who had not known him personally or even met him at a public event. The stories they heard from people who had known Jesus did, however, become their memories. All the parables, healings, sermons and teachings Jesus shared during his ministry were not forgotten, but were passed on as stories, and then offered up as hymns. At the time, early Christians gathered in each other's homes, each bringing to the common table what they could offer, including stories, prayers and hymns remembering Jesus among them. Who Jesus was, and what he preached, then became anchored in the worship of the community and the souls of its people.
Although what we now cherish as the Christmas story was not written down, these early believers, wandering in their own forty year wilderness in search of their understanding of the Kingdom of God in a broken, brutal world, perhaps knew the story of Jesus' birth. Perhaps someone brought that story to the table, as a prayer, or a hymn, remembering Jesus' welcomed presence among his people.
Christmas stories, especially the ones told over and over, taking on a life of their own, are like the ornaments on our Christmas trees themselves. Collected over time, they each add their own flavor, color and texture to our lives, and the lives of people in our communities. We don't have to have been present at all the events that generated the stories. Just hearing them and retelling them is enough. The stories, shared memories, and the prayers and hymns they become in our laughter and reflection become worship of God With Us once again.
Until next time, God's blessings.
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In This Moment
Surprisingly, Good Things
Christmas specials are filling the television schedule. Frosty, Rudolph and the Grinch have all made their appearances, PBS stations are abundant with concerts, and regular story lines are set aside or interwoven with holiday themes on our favorite sitcoms and dramas. A friend of mine came by last week so we could double-dose on our mutual favorite, "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer," in the 1964 original puppet version. Unfortunately, "How the Grinch Stole Christmas," another favorite of ours, had seen one too many rounds through the VCR and wouldn't play for us that night. However, my video rental store is a kind and gracious establishment, and I was able to exchange my friend the Grinch for another favorite, "Under the Tuscan Sun."
Perhaps you saw "Tuscan Sun" when it first came out a few years ago. Diane Lane stars as Frances Mays, a middle-aged woman who finds herself divorced, on a ten day vacation in Tuscany, and drawn to purchase and renovate a run down villa. She can't return to her old life in San Francisco, and as she tells her realtor, as they conclude a snake hunt in her house one afternoon, she is tired of being afraid all the time. But she also concludes that she has purchased a house for a life she doesn't have. What if no one ever sleeps in the three bedrooms? What if there is no one to cook for in the kitchen? Frances wants a life that fills her home, a wedding, a family, and people to cook for.
If you know the film, you also know that, by its end, Frances has all her desires fulfilled. She realizes that her construction crew would love and appreciate her cooking, and so she cooks magnificent feasts as they help her manifest the house of her heart. Her pregnant friend, Patty, shows up unexpectedly one day, having been abandoned by her partner and seeking solace. The baby comes, and a family becomes a part of Frances' household. One of Frances' Polish construction workers falls in love with a local woman, Frances stands by him as his family, and ends up hosting the wedding reception in her garden. It is her wise friend and former realtor who, smiling broadly, reminds her of her wishes, and how they have come to be. She smiles with him and delights in the abundance of love and community around her. As the the film closes, Frances' calmly amazed voice lightly dances over the image of friends, family, and a new love, gathered around her dining table in joyful celebration, telling herself and us that, "Surprisingly, good things can happen, even late in the game."
What I love about the movie is that Frances learns to let go of her fears, make mistakes, and live through them, as she engages her life where she has planted it. She also does something that may seem contradictory to what this Advent season is about: she sets aside her expectations, and instead she realizes her hope. Although Christmas is, according to our scriptures and hymns, about expecting Jesus' arrival, we are very good at attaching all our ambitions to this celebratory event, rather than really considering what God's love manifested among us implies. The populace around the birth of Christ shared our propensity to hook their images of the Messiah into events occurring around them, and weren't aware of how God With Us actually showed up. It happens, especially when we don't engage the life we have been given, imagine its possibilities, and remain open to them when they arrive. While Frances could have taken different turns and been someplace else, she recognizes that what appeared to have been gone forever was brought back to her in ways she ever expected.
As part of her Italian journey, Frances comes to an acquaintance of Mary, Jesus' mother, through the religious culture that also surrounds her. A friend of mine, preaching an Advent sermon many years ago on Mary's perspective on bringing the Christ child into the world on God's behalf, pointed out that Mary's road through this experience almost cost her her husband, her reputation, and could have cost her her life. But, what appeared to have been taken away was brought back to her one hundred times over. Surprisingly, good things can happen, even late in the game. And sometimes the hope and the expectation converge in one, grand event that takes generations to live out and comprehend.
Until next time, God's blessings.
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In This Moment
Unsettled Times
This week's news reports include the shooting of a suspected terrorist by U.S. Air Marshals, a volcanic eruption in the South Pacific, and last night, an airliner landing at Chicago's Midway International Airport in heavy snow, slid off the runway and stopped on a street adjacent to the airport. This morning we learned that a child had been killed in the accident. Meanwhile, Saddam Hussein's trial continues without him because he refuses to come to court, more U.S. troops are being killed in Iraq and the clean up from multiple natural disasters continues in the Southern United States, Pakistan, Central America and Indonesia. It is difficult, even if our lives are only lightly touched by these stories, to remember that we are in the middle of Advent, the preparatory days before Christmas in which we consider the changes the coming Messiah will make in our lives and the world.
As I sit at my kitchen table with my coffee cup close by, my radiators are whistling and hissing, and show is falling as far as I can see our my windows. I'm thinking that Mary and Joseph were probably about to set out on the road to Bethlehem, or were already on their way by this point. Short as that trip would be for us, for them it was a major undertaking, and one filled with uncertainty. At best, they were traveling across uneven terrain, camping each night, and living on simple, easy to carry foods. The worst case scenario could have included premature labor, an injured donkey, dust storms and run-ins with criminals. Still, they made the journey. Taxation, then and now, is a fact of life, and their government demanded that they return to their ancestral home to be counted in the census that would create the basis for the tax structure.
Thinking about their journey, I also remember the brutality of their world. Taxation was debilitating, the climate was harsh, unyielding to civilization, and what little people had was easily crushed or carried away by agents of Roman rulers who barely tolerated Jewish religious practices. Herod, king at the time Mary and Joseph started this trip, was cruel to the point of murdering his own family members. Common people had no say, no vote, and no hope. What they had was generally a minimal, miserable existence.
But somehow, out of that culture, we have this story, this image of hope, as these people do what they have to do to keep their lives together. They make this journey, escape the tyranny of an insane man killing off young children across the whole country, and go on to raise their child, continue paying taxes and doing their work. Worship was a part of their lives too, and the center of their faith was that the Messiah would come. How or when was not a given, but the hope and the promise. Holding onto that hope and promise is what we remember them for best.
The world has always balanced between brutal reality and the hope and the promise. Mary and Joseph set off on their journey as two, and came home as three, literally making space in their home and lives for another person. Many parents before and after them have made the same provisions. Perhaps they wondered whether the world into which their child arrived was fit for new life. Many parents before and after them have wondered the same thing, but are perhaps really wondering how to make sure this new chance at life in their daughter or son knows more than the brutality of the world, knows also the hope and the promise.
How do we keep that hope and promise alive, and how do we share that with the children of our world? First we must keep the story itself alive, and we must keep telling it, and telling it, and telling it some more, in as many ways as we can. And then, we must make room for this story of hope and promise in our lives, and keep making room, over and over and over, in as many ways as we can.
Until next time, God's blessings.
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In This Moment
In God's Image
French doctors announced this past weekend the successful completion of the first partial face transplant. The high risk, fifteen hour surgery, performed the previous Sunday, surprised the eight member surgical team in the quality of its result. Dr. Benoit Lengele, a member of the team is quoted as saying, "When it was finished and we were washing the skin and applying the dressings, there was a big silence in the operating room. We were all surprised because the immediate result was completely outside our expectations - it looked marvelous." Chosen as the better option for the recipient, over multiple reconstructive surgeries, the 38-year-old mother of two concurred with the doctor's delight in her appearance. Unable to speak because she still had a breathing tube in her throat, she wrote a note, "Merci," then started to cry with joy.
Despite what appears to be a medical miracle and a human triumph, doubts remain about the appropriateness of sharing the face of one human being with another, partially or fully. Because the human face carries so much of what we believe makes an individual uniquely themselves, how can we reconcile the medical benefits against the human need for personal value and self-worth? How do we also, as people of faith, translate being created in God's image, to having that image adjusted by medical science?
Our culture puts a great deal of emphasis on what we look like. In the United States, we have all number of criteria to determine what we are supposed to look like. Men and women, but mostly women, are treated to commercials, on television, the radio, and in print ads, that tell us what to wear, how to wear it, how many wrinkles we are allowed at any given age, what color hair is in style, how long our hair should be, whether curly, wavy, or straight hair is appropriate, and especially, we are directed on ensuring we look our best with the correct makeup. We aren't separated from our citizenship if we don't conform, but we are at the minimum aware of when we don't match either the cultural norms or the newest style. Do you wear makeup? Do you own a pair of boot cut jeans? If you answered, "No," to either of these questions, you are not in the majority, and you already know that. My guess is that you don't care, or you wear your individuality as a badge of honor. So, while many people think matching themselves up with the cultural norms allows them to express themselves, some people believe opting out of the trends keeps who they are intact.
The same could be said for plastic surgery. Although not in the same category as exchanging blue Jean styles each season, enhancing or correcting personal features on one's body is common enough to be spoken of openly. Television programs are dedicated to all kinds of physical makeovers by people who are uncomfortable with what they look like because it doesn't express who they are are inside. Botox injections, nose realignments, breast enhancements, tummy tucks and hair replacement, all become avenues by which people firmly believe they will be able to fully be and express who they are.
Genesis tells us that God began with a fairly basic format. "So God created human beings in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them (Genesis 1:27)."Later on, Isaiah indicates a personal understanding on God's part of each of us, so much so that God tells us he has graven each of us "on the palm of my hands (Isaiah 49:16)." Although we all begin life as either male or female, it is clear that God's investment in us is highly personal and individual, even down to the gifts we are given for ministry. "Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it. And God has appointed in the church first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then workers of miracles, then healers, helpers, administrators, speakers in various kinds of tongues (I Corinthians 12:27-28)."
We are once again reminded that even though culture can shape our choices, even our self-perceptions, it is God who created us as a community, and who has also blessed us with the unique qualities that define us as individuals. Clothing, jewelry, and even surgery, cannot alter the creative power with which God brought us each into being. While each new technological advance forces us to consider its cultural impact, I don't believe transplanted organs, whether face, heart, lung, liver or kidneys, do anything other than support the theological imperative of community out of which we were created. The recipient of this latest medical advancement knew the risks she was taking, and still faces, in terms of potential refection of an organ transplant and lifelong drug treatments to prevent that rejection. She brought all of who she is to this life-changing experience, including her courage, and she has not been diminished as a human being, but enhanced in her individuality. Interesting is that another of her doctors reflected that her new face bore an uncanny resemblance to her former face. It appears she is still graven on the palms of God's hands.
Until next time, God's blessings.
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In This Moment
What We Have
7th Heaven, a popular, long-running program on the WB network, chronicles the lives of the Camden family, comprised of a minister, his wife and their seven children. The parents, Annie and Eric, have been at this process quite awhile, and have added their children's spouses and two grandchildren to the fold. My impression is that this program isn't about easy faith answers, people who are always nice to each other, or people who live easy, smooth lives with no mistakes in them, especially the parents. A recent episode dealt with the ongoing story lines around a son's engagement to a woman his parents find pushy and controlling, a daughter's fierce need to date a man too old, and too experienced for her, and the teen fatherhood of a young man who had lived with the family for a time.
After an evening of watching these scenarios play out before him, as well as his own struggle with trying to get his hands on the piece of pie he longs for, Eric makes the point that the holiday season is becoming focused on what we want, instead of what we have. Referencing his future daughter-in-law, he tells his son that focusing so much attention on what our wants are that we become obsessed with them, causes us to rarely be satisfied or pleased when they are finally in our hands. Eric later makes the point with his daughter that, even though he gloats over being right about her potential date, his son-in-law is impatient, and their friend the soon-to-be father is very stubborn, this is who they are and what they have. And all of that is okay.
In these two observations is a message for ourselves and for the church. Wanting what we don't have rarely brings us happiness, even if we end up getting it, and all that wanting takes our attention away from what we do have, which is usually pretty good stuff.
What's the biggest want you have in your life right now? Do you have your eye on a new car, a promotion at work, a new relationship that you just can't get off your mind? How much of yourself, your time and your energy are you devoting to this diversion in your life? What would you be investing your time and energy on if you hadn't decided your life wasn't as good as you wanted it to be without this item, job or person in it? How has the shape of your life changed as you have opened up yourself to this created want? Try for a moment to completely empty your mind of whatever it is you have focused on as a want, and instead, focus on something you have. Does the car you drive now run fairly well, get good gas mileage or fit all of your family members comfortably? What do you like about your present job? Are you familiar with its routines, and so don't bring fears and stresses home about your performance level? Do the hours and the commute suit your personal needs? How do the relationships you already have in your life work? Do you have friends with whom you share meals, conversation or social events? Do you help each other out when the need arises, whether it's easy or convenient, or not?
The point is that obsessing over what is not in our life or out of our reach is different than welcoming new additions to the abundance that is already in our lives. Squeezing wants into the haves usually distorts our reality in tangible ways that are visible once we take a step back and get the full view. Focusing on a new car draws us away from appreciating how easy the existing vehicle makes our lives. Yearning for a new position only makes sense if we keep doing our present job to its fullest in order to prepare for the promotion if it comes. Directing all our energies into the hope of a new relationship, while neglecting everybody who is already in our life, doesn't say much about our desire to invest in people, including ourselves. Looking at what we don't have creates a sort of amnesia about what is abundantly present in our lives already. When we forget what we have or disclaim its value in wanting, we lose out on our future twice over. Before we know it, we've devalued our lives to the point of continuous frustration.
In the same vein, how often have you longed for your church to look like a real church, the kind Paul spoke about in I Corinthians 12? Wouldn't it be wonderful to be involved with the part of the Body of Christ that functioned well? There would always be enough Sunday school teachers, the minister would make everyone happy, no one would pout or complain about finances or having to do more than their fair share of the work. Nice picture. But while we focus our attentions on what we want to happen, the church continues to happen all around us. So, we miss out on the choir director meeting with the pastor to create meaningful connections in worship services among the music, scriptures and prayers. We miss the conversations and smiles at coffee hour that show care among church members for each other's well being. We walk right by the youth fellowship table set up to answer questions about an upcoming mission trip.
If you turn your thoughts and attentions away from what the Body of Christ is to what you want it to look like, you miss out on some pretty good stuff. And for all the pettiness, impatience, gloating and stubbornness, as well as assorted other ill behaviors and habits, that's okay too. The body Jesus inhabited was human, as is the collective membership of the Body of Christ we now call the church. There is a reason for both I Corinthians 12 existing to help us understand how God intended to equip the faith community to function as Christ's body, and for the following chapter to help us do so in spite of ourselves.
Until next time, God's blessings.
