Appendicitis, and other thoughts about the Body

I'm in a time in my adventure with Jesus when He is revealing to me great and unsearchable things I did not know about His Body. So many scriptures I've read and sermons I've heard have pointed to the unparalleled unity that is characteristic of His church--the intensity of relationship found there that is representative of who He is and what He is like. The American blur in my vision has been ever so slightly corrected to allow me a somewhat clearer picture of His intention for His Bride.

This is new for me. The passages in the New Testament which refer to the church as a body are probably too familiar; they had lost their effect on me. The last time I remember seriously considering the metaphor (if it is one) was about 8 years ago. I felt then that God told me I was like an appendix in the Body of Christ. An authentic part of the Body, but a part that could easily be done without and wouldn't be missed much by the other members. A true believer that showed up for church--but nothing else. I did not want that to be my legacy. I started to show up and help out and feel my way towards something more meaningful.

It's a strange balance, however. . . .this awareness of being created with a specific purpose in a particular place in space and time and a role in the Body of Christ that is significant and unique, weighed against the knowledge that my participation does not make His church any more or less complete. While I may endeavor to make my role more valuable than that of an appendix, He has no shortage of organs for transplant if necessary. God doesn't seem to find Himself in a bind.

But that misses the point. The point is that in the process of growing and stretching from an appendix into some other more useful organ--somewhere in the monotony of days and tasks that exist in that space of time--there comes a sense of gratitude for the opportunity. A keener appreciation for the fact that, by virtue of ourselves, we have no business at all being involved in this Kingdom of Heaven, but yet, with tears and laughter, can say how grateful we are for the blessed assurance of knowing that we are in on it.

And now I'm in a place where the truths I am learning about the Body--His Body--have less to do with me and my role and more to do with my investment in the roles of others. My painstaking, keep-me-up-at-night, laborious, joyous investment.

And I have an unaccounted for excitement at being part of this thing called the church: a vital, complicated organism full of pieces that are united and not the same. I am drawn in by the mystery of the fact that I am not His Bride, but we are His Bride and I cannot extricate myself from you, nor do I want to, although I cannot conceive how it is that we have been knit so impossibly together.

He is showing me great and unsearchable things that I did not know, but they are not just for me. My walk is yours and yours is mine and in Him all things hold together.