Leaving Limbs

Parts of your physical body don't just disappear. They can't decide to leave the body...even if they had a mind to. They can stop working. They can become paralyzed. They can die of gangrene. They can be severed in an accident or surgically removed. But they can't decide to leave.

And even if they could leave your body, they can't physically join another body. But suppose it's possible. Suppose your thumb did decide to leave your body and took the four fingers of your right hand along, too. Yes, there is blood when it happens even though there was no forced trauma.

"What are you doing?" you ask in shock. "Where are you going? Why are you leaving?"

"We feel that we are no longer of use to this body," the thumb declares. "We are going to join another body."

"But why?"

"We just feel that we are finished here."

"But why? Doesn't the other body already have thumbs and fingers?"

"Yes, the other body already has thumbs and fingers - the best we've seen - that's why we're going there. They are doing the most extraordinary things and they've made room for us."

You are in pain. "I don't understand. If you leave our body for that other body, you're leaving us without a thumb and four fingers! You are hurting the rest of the body."

"Yes," thumb sympathizes, "but another thumb and fingers will come along to take our place."

"Can you please tell me what we have done that you should leave?"

"Can't we leave for no reason?" he replies. "Our Instinct tell us we are done here, are you arguing with our Instinct? We feel our Instinct leading us to this other body. It's our Instinct, I tell you."

You don't know what to say. Thumb continues, "Look, this was a very hard decision for us to make, the four fingers and I. If we were hurt or angry with the body then this decision would be easy. But it wasn't easy. It was very hard."

Finally you manage to say, "I'm disappointed. I'm saddened. I'm saddened for the rest of the body."

"I understand this is disappointing news, but can't you be glad for us? We are following our Instinct after all. The four fingers and I are going to be so happy with this other body and all the other thumbs and fingers, there are scores of them!"

And so the thumb and the four fingers on your right hand leave your body. You never hear how they managed with their new body. You wonder where new thumbs and fingers are going to come from, you aren't a starfish!

"For the body does not consist of one member but of many...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.'" (I Cor. 12:14, 21)

Correcting suspicion

A year ago about this time someone came into my office with this allegation: "Someone is trying to run us out of the church."

"What?" I was shocked. "How do you know?"

"We've noticed that when we move seats, this person moves, too. They sit nearby. They talk to the people we've just greeted during the welcome."

"But, how do you know they want to run you out of the church?"

"Because of their behavior. It's like they have to watch us. They are making us feel uncomfortable and we may just have to leave."

Ever since this little encounter I've been struck how often and how quickly false assumptions are made about the motives and intentions of other people. I hear them all the time. I think it is probably one of the most common, subtly destructive forces in the body of Christ. Divisions start here and even the slighest offense is multipied.

It happens like this: "Joe" doesn't understand the behavior of "Rick". Joe draws his own fanciful conclusions which seem very logical to him. He believes his conclusions. He thinks he has the truth. Then everything Rick subsequently does is filtered through Joe's conclusions and appears to validate them. Joe starts acting on these assumptions of his and maybe even sharing them with others. The little mustard seed of suspicion he allowed to be planted in his heart begins to grow and bloom and bear awful fruit.

Why didn't Rick say "hi" when I came into the room? Come to think of it, he didn't even look at me. What did I do? Is it because I'm not a professional like him? He thinks he is so superior to everyone. Jerk.

How does a pastor combat unproven suspicions within the church, especially when they often go unsaid. Obviously, we preach the Word of God which reminds us over and over to love one another as Jesus loved us. Part of loving one another is believing the best about a person. Assuming the worst before we know the facts isn't love, it's sin. "Love believes all things...hopes all things" (I Cor. 13:7).

Aside from preaching the Word, pastors must model practicing the Word. First, pastors must model love and refuse to cultivate suspicions about others. We are just as prone to assume false truths as anyone else. We may share with our church our assumptions about the President or share privately with our wives assumptions about a church leader. When we see what we're doing, we should be quick to acknowledge them as sin and stop it in its tracks. If we shared a false assumption in public, maybe we should apologize in public, too.

Second, pastors must model loving correction. Oh boy. This is the unspoken bane of ministry: correcting people. But it must be done - lovingly, gently, respectfully, humbly - but still done, and unapologetically. After we take the log out of our own eye, then we are charged with looking after one another spiritually. We're not the only ones with this charge, but we ought to be models of it. If assumptions are shared in our hearing we should address them. If shared privately, then privately. If shared publically, then publically.

Lord willing, our bane could be the other person's blessing.

The goal is to cultivate an atmosphere of love and self-evaluation in the church. Relationships that last are tested. Authentic community goes deep. Real, Biblical friendships are forged by talking and confessing to one another, not by assuming and avoiding. How can members worship God truly when they are thinking of one another falsely? It can't happen.

What happened in the situation I recounted at the beginning? I questioned their assumptions. I didn't write them off or laugh at them, I just challenged them. I also told them some other just-as-likely conclusions that could be made. I encouraged them to find out the truth by talking to this individual. That's the last I heard of it.

But I hear other assumptions made among brothers and sisters in Christ and I'm certain that's not even half of what people are thinking. Because suspicion breeds suspicion, a pastor's hands are always full.

Fire and brimstone

"Do you preach fire and brimstone?" asked one of the senior members at church.

"What do you mean?" I replied. Was he asking if I preached about fire and brimestone of if I preached in a particular style called "fire and brimstone preaching"?

He clarified himself. "You know, do you preach on the consequences of sin?"

"Yes," I said, "I haven't preached a whole sermon on hell, but I I've talked about Hell as an eternal, literal place for those who reject Christ. I've probably said more about the wrath and condemnation sinners are under now rather than just the judgment to come. But, yes, I preach on the consequences of sin."

This conversation took place over the phone so I couldn't read his face. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't remember hearing you preach about Hell," he said.

That was basically the end of the discussion. Something about the way he asked made me think he was genuinely concerned I was avoiding the topic of Hell. I don't think that I have. Again, I haven't preached a specific sermon on Hell, but I don't think I've neglected the subject.

Regardless of his motives or concern or lack of memory, it did make me think about my preaching. Do I unconsciously shy away from talking about Hell? Do I somewhere deep down doubt it's existence or think it is less horrifying than it really is? Have I made the consequences of unbelief sufficiently clear? While we may not be "fire and brimstone preachers", pastors must warn our hearers of Hell and plead for their escape.