For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. (Romans 12:4-5)
Do
you have someone on whom you can call to be your hands? Your feet? Your heart? Do you have people in
your life for whom you are hands, feet, or heart? One of the big blessings in
my life was having a “MacGyver.” Dad was mechanical. For most of my life, if something
needed to be fixed, chances were good he could do it.
Romans
12 is about a variety of gifts that God gives for Christians to use to help and
bless one another and those outside the Church. We know this, but we seem to
ignore it. If someone has a problem, they pray and ask the Father for the
solution. I know we’re supposed to ask God to meet our needs, and He loves us, so
there’s nothing wrong with praying. The question today is whether we’re doing things
in the wrong manner.
I
know that I’ve asked within the Church for help with things and been told, “No”
– or worse, been told someone would do it who either didn’t or did a poor job.
I’ve failed or have done a poor job on a task I’d agreed to do. People who
agree to help have swindled and conned the people they were supposed to help. I agree that local churches need to figure out a way of handling these problems.
But
if God has given us these gifts, then He has already answered our prayers. It
makes no sense for us to wait for God to miraculously accomplish something for
us that He has already given someone else the ability to do.
Some cut themselves off from the Church because (they say) it is full
of hypocrites. Some claim to be part of the family of God, who
attend church, but neither exercise their gifts nor give someone else the
chance to exercise theirs. This is not the way God designed the church to work –
but how often are we guilty?
I've probably told this story, but years ago, I attended a retreat at which those attending were given gifts by those who didn't attend. Often, they were bookmarks on pieces of yarn, and most attendees quickly put them around their necks. Several people asked me why I didn't, and I said, "I don't do that sort of thing." What sort of thing was that? The only answer I can think of is that I don't act silly. They accepted my answer. God didn't. He told me that those bookmarks were tokens of love from the people who gave them, and in looking at them and putting them back in the bag, I was rejecting them and their love. In tears, I repented, put the bookmarks over my head, and wore them for the rest of the evening.
But how often, and in what subtle ways do we reject the love of those in the Body, or fail to love them because we don't do that sort of thing, have nothing to offer, or have some other flimsy excuse to offer?
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