If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it. Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it. (1 Cor. 12:26-27 NIV)
Oh, Houston. My heart aches for you when I see the images.
Water. Everywhere.
Homes destroyed. Landmarks washed away. Families displaced.
Seeing reports on Hurricane Harvey, I can’t help but be reminded of the devastating tsunami that struck Japan in 2011. I’ve seen the damage that water can do.
Natural disasters of this magnitude put us in perspective against the big picture of the universe.
We are finite.
Mortal.
Vulnerable.
We have no control. But we fool ourselves into thinking we do.
And while the people of Texas braced against the most extreme downpour in US history, I was one of millions of people on the edges of our couches, clutching a drink/remote control/iPhone while voraciously consuming the season 7 finale of Game of Thrones on Sunday night.
Without giving away spoilers: the show is about a violent struggle between various people and factions who are so caught up jockeying for power, betraying and slaying one another in the process, that they are oblivious to the true danger that threatens them all: an army of undead warriors on an unstoppable march towards their human kingdom.
Sounds just like our world today.
We have become so divided (never mind the broader categories like ethnicity or nationality–even individual church congregations can be divided on any number of issues) that we’re distracted from the true danger that threatens us all: a supernatural army that seeks to steal, kill, and destroy (John 10:10), led by an evil being known as the Father of Lies (John 8:44).
Divide and conquer. It’s a classic strategy employed by those bent on conquest. Ancient wisdom says “a kingdom divided cannot stand” (Matt. 12:25).
Who benefits when God’s children don’t get along with one another?
Who laughs when God’s children point out the specks in each others’ eyes while ignoring the planks in our own eyes–openly flouting the commands of Jesus Christ himself?
Who wins when individual Christians fix their eyes not on Christ, but on themselves, and adopt an idolatrous faith that serves one’s own best interests, even at the expense of others? (I touched upon this in my last post, about the Lord’s Supper at the church in Corinth.)
The church in Corinth was divided between ethnicity (Greek and Jew), gender, and socioeconomic status (slave and free, have and have-not). They formed factions based on which leader they followed and who baptized them (1 Cor 1:12-15). Paul admonished them to see themselves as different members of the same body–the body of Christ (1 Cor 12:27), and Christ is the head.
I spoke with a colleague from Houston and was moved to hear how people are banding together as a community, determined to help one another make it through this ordeal, regardless of whatever differences were perceived between them before.
Their perspective changed when they were confronted with something far bigger than themselves.
What would happen if we, the members of the body of Christ, fixed our eyes on Him instead of on our differences?
What would it look like if we reminded one another that “our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Eph. 6:12)?
What if we fought not with one another, but alongside and for one another–even if we’re different, because there’s much more at stake than we realize?
Maybe we’d have a fighting chance.