Life
Together, Part Two: We Need Each Other
I Corinthians 12:12-14, 20-27; 13:1-3, 13
University
Congregational United
“Faith, hope and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.”
-I Corinthians 13:13
I have a friend who is a director of a bell choir. The other day, when I was talking to him about this sermon, he told me a joke. Now I will tell it to you. But as I do, I have to admit, I didn’t think it was that funny. But he assured me his bell choir thought it was hilarious. And, he promised me, any musicians would get it immediately. So I’m counting on you, choir.
It seems here was a performance of Carmen scheduled at Carnegie Hall. The show was sold out, and was going to be recorded. Then, just before the opera was going to begin, the orchestra conductor became ill. He was simply too sick to perform. As the promoters were desperately trying to figure out what to do, the first violist stepped forward. “Please,” she said, “this is my favorite opera, and it has always been my dream to direct it. Since I was a little child, I have practiced it. Every time I listen to Carmen, I imagine myself directing. Please,” she said, “please let me try.” Well, the promoters did not imagine they had much of a choice, so they told the First Violist to go ahead and conduct. And sure enough, she led the orchestra as if she had been doing it for years. The performance was a smashing success. The reviewers raved. The next night, the conductor had recovered and was back at the podium. As the First Violist took her familiar place back with the rest of the orchestra, the second violist turned to her and said, “So, where were you last night?”
As we consider life together, we discussed last week the reality of giftedness. Each of us is a gift to community, Paul insists. We are like parts in a body, each one necessary. We cannot discount our value. We cannot look to the person next to us and imagine that it is that person’s gift which gives meaning to the community. We cannot imagine that our gift is not needed. This is important to remember- fix it in your understanding of community.
Yet Paul does not stop there. He then warns of the other fallacy that can come into our understanding of community. Just as we cannot discount our giftedness, so we cannot as well imagine our giftedness to be sufficient. The ear cannot say to the eye, “I have no need of you.” Then where would the seeing be? We need each other, says Paul. We need each other. The one musician, fiddling furiously, cannot play the whole symphony. We have to lift our heads, occasionally or often, and recognize a larger picture. We have to listen for the rest of the orchestra.
In the Navaho tradition, no one storyteller tells the whole story. A Navaho story always requires at least two voices, to remind every teller and every hearer that the story, the true story, is held in community.
And right there, in that tradition, is captured the human situation, which I imagine every one of us falls in to. We assume that our story is all that there is. We assume our perspective is the only one of value. And we assume, most especially in our culture, that self-sufficiency is our goal and our security.
Paul says this: there is no such thing as self-sufficiency in the body of Christ. I would expand it further to say that the illusion of self-sufficiency is a dangerous one, in our families, in our faith communities, and in our world. There is no community in “perspective supremacy,” the narrowness of mind and heart that assigns ultimate goodness to only one way of being or knowing. In fact, in such a way of being, I would suggest, lie the roots of tyranny, a tyranny that can infect any faith community, as Paul notes, and a tyranny that can threaten to destroy any world.
So Paul says, “Do not assume that your view is everything. If the whole body were an ear, where would the seeing be?” I will give my own illustration. One eye sees just in flat tones. It is only with two eyes we gain depth perception. One perspective- one story- is not enough. It is only with each other’s stories that life takes on depth and richness. And it is only with two stories that one experiences community.
My friend who told me the joke also told me why he enjoys directing bell choirs. With a bell choir, he says, you really know that you need each other. If the ringer of the c and d bells is not present, you will hear her absence. It doesn’t matter in a bell choir how talented the most talented member is. The whole choir, dependent on each other, learns to encourage the giftedness of each, because a bell choir is not as strong as its strongest member, but its weakest one.
We need each other. Faith community. world community. we need each other. And in this world where a deep understanding of that has seemed to have broken down almost completely, we need to remind ourselves of that need.
On an international level, this recognition of the preciousness of variety and diversity has been called “tolerance.” That by the way does not mean simply “tolerating” each other. Listen to this definition of tolerance from the United Nations:
Tolerance is respect, acceptance and appreciation of the rich diversity of our world's cultures, our forms of expression and ways of being human. It is fostered by knowledge, openness, communication, and freedom of thought, conscience and belief. Tolerance is harmony in difference. It is not only a moral duty; it is also a political and legal requirement. Tolerance, the virtue that makes peace possible, contributes to the replacement of the culture of war by a culture of peace.
Keep that definition in mind when you listen to the words of the United Nations charter:
“We, the peoples of the United Nations determined to save succeeding generations from the scourge of war, ... to reaffirm faith in fundamental human rights, in the dignity and worth of the human person, ... and for these ends to practise tolerance and live together in peace with one another as good neighbours.” United Nations documents go on to clarify:
Consistent with respect for human rights, the practice of tolerance does not mean toleration of social injustice or the abandonment or weakening of one's convictions. It means that one is free to adhere to one's own convictions and accepts that others adhere to theirs. It means accepting the fact that human beings, naturally diverse in their appearance, situation, speech, behaviour and values, have the right to live in peace and to be as they are. It also means that one's views are not to be imposed on others.
We
need each other. We need to hear each
other’s stories. Certainly we need each
other in this church. We need to know
each other’s stories and celebrate each others’ gifts. The visionary needs to celebrate the
perspective of the practical, grounded person.
The detail person needs to celebrate the ability of the dreamer to let
go of details and soar. We need each
other. But beyond that, perhaps more
challenging, I might suggest that the liberal church needs to hear the stories
of the conservative church. We, brothers
and sisters, do not know all there is to know of faith. We can not tell the whole story of the
gospel. We need each other.
Let
me reiterate the words from the United Nations.
I am not suggesting this means “the toleration of social injustice or
the abandonment or weakening of (our) convictions.” It means that one is free
to adhere to one's own convictions and accepts that others adhere to theirs. It
means accepting the fact that human beings, naturally diverse in their
appearance, situation, speech, behaviour and values,
have the right to live in peace and to be as they are.”
Our
own Bob Perkins has an idea about this you may have heard of. It’s called the “Let’s Swap Stories” Project.
Here I’ll use Bob’s own words to describe it:
This project came, quite literally, out of a dream. I had been
discouraged by American politics in recent years—the lack of civil discussion,
the simplification of complex issues, the division of
people into opposing camps. I don’t want a country of separate groups that just
yell at each other. What I hope for is an American community; a place where we
recognize that what binds us is greater than what separates us. I hope for a
country where we can go beyond sound bites, where even when we don’t agree, we
can understand and acknowledge an opposing view. I wondered how I could help.
One night, I dreamed I was talking with a friend and we came up with the idea
of a purple bracelet—red and blue combined—that simply said “Let’s Swap
Stories.” The bracelet would be worn by people who want to demonstrate a
willingness to share their stories with others, especially with people whose
political ideas they disagree with.
That’s it. That’s the whole idea.
Not conversion, but conversation. Dialogue, not diatribe. Friendly, honest, and
direct debate, rooted in respect and the ability to listen. The hope? Not for
agreement or resolutions. Simply for the possibility that understanding each
other’s stories will help lead to a more civil, more sane way of working and
living together.
This
project began when I shared this dream with some friends. Now we’re sharing it
with you. Thanks for giving it a chance. Who knows? It just might work.
Bob goes on to give suggestions about how this can
happen. Listen to the brilliance of this
advice, what Bob calls “The Rules”
1)
Wearing the bracelet signifies that you are willing
to listen to another person’s story and are ready to share yours.
2)
Wherever the conversation leads, you have to agree to
part with something akin to a handshake.
3)
If it looks like the exchange is about to blow up,
stop. Before it falls apart, say something like: “It looks like this isn’t
working today. Ah well, at least we tried.” And move on.
4)
If circumstances don’t allow for a real conversation,
you should at least be able to affirm the importance of listening to the other
person’s story.
5)
You needn’t wear
the bracelet all the time; just when you feel up to the challenge.
There is one more thing you should know about this project, by the way. In the end, Bob did not develop it by himself. He developed it in community.
So we circle back to Paul, who put it this way: You are the Body of Christ. You are a gift to that body, and you are not the only gift. We circle back to ourselves, learning to share our giftedness, learning to delight in the gifts of others, learning to practice the peace we hope for in the world. And finally, Paul suggests, there is really only one way this life in community can work. It must be grounded in love. It must be striving for love. It must be blessed, gifted, by love. This thing that is patient, and kind, and not jealous, and not arrogant. This thing that rejoices in goodness wherever it is found, and does not carry a grudge, and keeps trying, and believes, and hopes, and endures. This thing that never fails; the only thing, in fact, that never ends.
Faith, hope, and love, these three keep going, and the greatest of these is love.
About Today’s Scripture (as printed in
the Worship Bulletin)
I Corinthians 12
Last week we read of a
church torn by factions, in need of correction and direction. That was the situation Paul was addressing
when he wrote this first letter to the faith community at