The Rev. Dr. David S. Hodgson, Interim Head of Staff

DESERT PALMS PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
Sun City West, Arizona
Body Language
A Sermon Preached by the Rev. Dr. David S. Hodgson
January 24, 2010
Psalm 19
1 The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims his handiwork. 2 Day to day pours forth speech, and night to night declares knowledge. 3 There is no speech, nor are there words; their voice is not heard; 4 yet their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world. In the heavens he has set a tent for the sun, 5 which comes out like a bridegroom from his wedding canopy, and like a strong man runs its course with joy. 6 Its rising is from the end of the heavens, and its circuit to the end of them; and nothing is hid from its heat. 7 The law of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul; the decrees of the LORD are sure, making wise the simple; 8 the precepts of the
LORD are right, rejoicing the heart; the commandment of the LORD is clear, enlightening the eyes; 9 the fear of the LORD is pure, enduring forever; the ordinances of the LORD are true and righteous altogether. 10 More to be desired are they than gold, even much fine gold; sweeter also than honey, and drippings of the honeycomb. 11 Moreover by them is your servant warned; in keeping them there is great reward. 12 But who can detect their errors? Clear me from hidden faults. 13 Keep back your servant also from the insolent; do not let them have dominion over me.
Then I shall be blameless, and innocent of great transgression.
14 Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer.
1 Corinthians 12:12-31
12 For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. 13 For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body--Jews or Greeks, slaves or free--and we were all made to drink of
one Spirit. 14 Indeed, the body does not consist of one member but of many. 15 If the foot would say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. 16 And if the ear would say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. 17 If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? 18 But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. 19 If all were a single member, where would the body be? 20 As it is, there are many members, yet one body. 21 The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” 22 On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, 23 and those members of the body that we think less honorable we clothe with greater honor, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect; 24 whereas our more respectable members do not need this. But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, 25 that there may be no dissension within the body, but the embers may have the same care for one another. 26 If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it. 27 Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it. 28 And God has appointed in the church first apostles, second prophets, third teachers; then deeds of power, then gifts of healing, forms of assistance, forms of leadership, various kinds of tongues. 29 Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles? 30 Do all possess gifts of healing? Do all speak in tongues? Do all interpret? 31 But strive for the greater gifts. And I will show you a still more excellent way.
When it comes to 1Corinthians, Chapter 12, I much prefer the Revised Standard Versions. My text is therefore taken from the Revised Standard Version, 1 Corinthians, Chapter 12, Verse 31: “Earnestly desire the higher gifts and I will show you a still more excellent way.” Let us pray for insight. With our minds, O God, show us a still more excellent way of thinking; in our hearts a still more excellent way of loving, and in our spirits a still more excellent way of adventuring. For all that you intend, and to you be the honor and glory that comes of it. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.
“Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love.” It does you know. Christian love binds our hearts together, but what about those times when it doesn’t? When those bonds of Christian love don’t seem to hold together and people feel led or called by the spirit to leave the church. What does love do then? If you grew up with this hymn you know there is one verse missing. It is the verse that talks about our separations. I don’t know why they left it out; perhaps because they thought it just referred to those who had moved on to the church triumphant, but it also refers to those who need to move beyond the fellowship. The verse goes like this: “When we asunder part it gives us inward pain, but we shall still be joined in heart and hope to meet again.” That verse may be eliminated from the hymnbook but I trust it will never be erased from the spiritual experience of this church.
The church in Corinth was perplexed with a similar issue. They all knew what it was like to be drawn together from different races, cultures, creeds and classes into one fellowship. They felt the spirit of Christ accomplishing their unity of spirit. But then, they got to a point where life just wasn’t working out in the church the way they hoped it would and people started to leave, or talk about leaving the church, so they wrote to Paul for advice. Then they waited to see what he would say to them. Their letter must have gone something like this: Dear Paul, What does Christian love do now when people need to leave?
I know that Paul thought long and hard about this before he responded. And I know he thought long and hard because of the way he responded. I sense that he chose to respond with humor, and that is always a difficult choice. Humor in such a setting is a very delicate thing and must be approached cautiously. Too much of it offered in the wrong way and it seems to trivialize the moment, doing more damage than good. But a little bit of humor used in the right way at the right time can also have a therapeutic value if people are ready and willing to heal, if God is able to use the humor in some way. It is always a cautious and precarious response.
Paul had a very clever sense of humor. One of the reasons for learning Greek, perhaps the only reason for learning Biblical Greek, is to enable us to see the great puns that St. Paul uses, his famous one-liners, and to appreciate what at times is his raunchy sense of humor. That’s Paul. The translators are nice to him, but Paul often used humor, and in this case, I think, though you may not hear it anywhere else, Paul used the absurd in order to address the profound. That takes a lot of skill and a great deal of knowledge about the audience. He had to know the people he was writing to. So Paul responded with humor.
Let me paraphrase. This translation takes the whole image and uses the word ‘members’, instead of body parts. Paul used body parts. His response went something like this: “Suppose once upon a time you were having a perfectly normal day when all of a sudden you discovered that your ear was having a conversation with your nose. More than a conversation, they were actually arguing with each other and you overheard the ear saying, ‘If you can’t hear of what use are you to the body?’ The nose, being so prominent, refusing to be taken for granted, responded by saying, ‘And if you can’t smell the roses, how much of life are you going to enjoy?’”
Imagine being shocked at such a conversation, and before you could interrupt or even negotiate between the two, you discovered that your eyes were talking to your mouth. The eyes were saying to the mouth, ‘Since you can’t see where you’re going you’d probably bump into everything without me,’ and the mouth replied, ‘How can you be eloquent if all you do is see?’
This was St. Paul, perhaps the greatest theologian of the first century, responding to a church that was in crisis, and, I think, trying to get them to laugh. What makes it even more fascinating is that he knew the people he was writing to and they knew who he was referring to. So it was that he said, “And the hands might argue with the feet and the feet might say, ‘Without me, you can’t go anywhere.’ And the hands would say, ‘But without me you’ll get no work done.’” And on it goes. Paul, being humorous with the body parts of the church.
I’d love to know what happened in the congregation when the letter was received because, you see, they knew who he had in mind when he talked about the hands—those people in the church who were always rolling up their sleeves and putting their hands to some great work. The missionaries, the ones going out on one journey after another to share the gospel—they knew they were the feet. The visionaries, the dreamers of the church, surely they understood they were the eyes. The evangelists were the mouths; they knew that. They knew that Paul was being funny, hoping that just enough humor would lighten the spirit of the church, and alter the prospective just enough to give them a chance to see the situation from an alternate point of view.
What’s missing in this translation is the contrast between the humorous body parts section and the one-liner at the end, where Paul takes his humor and applies it to the situation: you are the body of Christ and individually members of it. They knew he wasn’t trivializing the situation; he was just trying to say, lighten up a little. If you can’t cry, then there is some merit in learning how to smile. Implied in his image is the profound realization that when people are called to leave a fellowship there is woundedness; it is like the eyes deciding to leave the body, or the feet going elsewhere.
I don’t know what else to say except that I know, or believe, the spirit drew me here and one day it will draw me away. Because I accept that reality in life I have to accept it in yours, that the spirit that calls us all together at times may call others apart. I don’t know what to say about that except to remind you of the verse that’s missing: “We shall still be joined in heart and hope to meet again.”
Since Paul had certain parishioners in mind when he talked about those body parts, it is a bit precarious wondering who he might have had in mind when he went into that section in some detail about the weaker parts needing to be made more prominent; about some of the unpresentable parts of the body needing to be gifted with special honor; about some of those body parts that needed a little greater honesty. If you buy the premise that he had some parishioners in mind in the description of the more noticeable body parts, then he probably had some parishioners in mind when he talked about those weaker body parts. Paul, using humor to lighten the spirit of a congregation. Then while still talking about the body, he moved into the gifts that the body holds—of prophecy, of teaching, of healing, of learning, of sharing and of caring—all of those functions which are somehow impaired when the body does not hold together, yet somehow trusting the spirit that draws a people together and creates mystery and meaning.
Please note that Paul never really answered their question. He never really said this is what you do and how you handle it. He just kept hoping that if he could provide an altered prospective and a little lightness of spirit that somehow the spirit of the congregation would discover by itself how the body behaves, how it continues to work and witness. I maintain that Paul was trying to use humor to address something that was profound.
I once had a parishioner who tickled my funny bone. Actually, I’ve had many across the years, but this one managed to tickle both at the same time. Her name was Marie. I don’t know what it was—it may have been the sparkle in her eyes or the Cheshire cat grin that always let me know she was up to something or some mischief in her head—but we were not ever together long before we started to laugh with each other. We laughed in good times and in bad. We laughed in the midst of conversations and in the midst of prayers. She just tickled my funny bone.
During the last six months of her life she was under hospice care. Our late night ‘phone conversations were often absolutely hysterical. Deanne would find me curled up with laughter on the couch, howling, and she would know exactly who was on the other end. One day near the end I called on her on a Sunday afternoon in her hospice room. The first thing she said to me was that it was highly unusual but there was one particular hospice nurse who didn’t have a sense of humor. That got us going. Pretty soon we were laughing and laughing until laughter filled the room and spilled over into the hallway. Sure enough, the one without humor came in and asked me to step aside. She leaned over to Marie and said, “Don’t you think that minister of yours ought to be doing something religious, like dealing with the end of life issues?”
Before I had a chance to get upset I heard Marie saying, “Oh, no. We passed that point a long time ago.” You see, there it is. Humor, not only becoming therapeutic, but even sacramental at times when God finds a good use for it. I sort of suspect that’s what Paul had in mind: humor, when he said, if you earnestly desire the higher gifts, then I will be able to show you a still more excellent way to get through it all. Let us pray that it may be so.
Let us reflect in silence. And then in thy mercy, O God, grant us thy peace. Amen.