Rev. George Miller
May 24, 2020
1 Corinthians 15:51-53
In 2002 I met someone who became my best friend. Her name was Mary Bryant.
We met in the courtyard of Eden Seminary and in that moment it was like we knew each other all our life.
We had the kind of relationship that engaged all the senses.
Mary was a hippie chick who had a halo of hair crowning her head.
She smelled like incense and cooked so good you forgot she was a vegetarian.
We’d sit side by side in chapel, with her head on my shoulder, giggling over the unintended double entendres that popped up during worship.
Mary loved me unconditionally and never once asked me to explain myself.
She had a radiant spirit that shone so bright, it transfigured her.
In 2003, Mary died in a car accident. Like that… she was gone.
It devastated my life.
No more could I hear her giggle during chapel. No more could we lay side by side watching TV.
No more could I see that halo of hair or share Communion.
One day I sat outside her apartment door, sobbing as I smelt the remnants of her incense.
I wasn’t just missing my best friend spiritually and emotionally, my body was missing what I could no longer see, touch, hear, but could now only smell, until even that eventually died away…
Bodies matter. That’s a part of what today’s reading is about.
Christianity is an embodied faith.
We see this when God formed the first human and breathed life into it.
We hear this in the gift of Sabbath in which God calls all bodies to rest.
Christianity is an embodied faith, which means that bodies matter.
If God did not care about bodies, there would’ve been no reason to free them from slavery, heal them from diseases, or feed them with loaves and fishes.
After all, it was in human flesh that God came to us as Emmanuel, to walk with us, eat with us, even die.
In the early Christian church, the body mattered. People were viewed as a wholistic whole. Folk understood that life was as much about the physical as the spiritual.
That’s why they spent so much time feeding the hungry, caring for the sick.
But then something happened- over time, due to the influence of Greek culture, people stopped seeing humans as wholistic beings.
They divided people into 3 parts- body, mind, and soul.
In doing so, people began to forget that what happens to the body affects the mind and spirit.
What happens to the mind affects the spirit and body.
What happens to the spirit affects the body and mind.
Due to this Greek way of thinking, something else happened- folk began to see the soul as superior, and the body as insignificant.
Some decided to deny their body- they starved themselves, deprived themselves of rest.
Some went the other extreme- over eating, drinking, thinking that if just the soul matters, who cares what you do with your body.
Others took this way of thought further- if the body doesn’t matter, then we can do whatever we want to other bodies.
That’s how so-called Christians justified the slave trade. That’s how the earliest settlers justified uprooting our indigenous sisters and brothers.
That’s not what the original Christians believed- they believed that humans are complete beings in which physical, mental, and spiritual are one.
The proof of that is in the Resurrection.
The Resurrection not only proved that God is more powerful than death, but it is validation that bodies matter.
This is what makes Covid-19 so hard.
Covid-19 is a reminder that what our bodies can or can’t do affects our mind and spirit.
We know that this pandemic is difficult for so many of you right now. We’re thankful that you’re worshipping with us via the safety of the internet.
We know that you can see and hear us, but we also know it is not the same.
We know that your mind is engaged, that the Holy Spirit has a way of moving through YouTube.
But it’s not the same.
Why? Because your body is not here.
We know that no matter how well we sing or smile or share the Word, it is not feeding you the same way.
Your body is not here to take in all the visuals; to feel the touch of hugs and kisses; to hear the “Amens” of others.
To smell the aroma of Fellowship Hall. To taste the heartfelt cooking of others.
If your mind and soul seem to be lagging, it’s because your body is missing so much and is trying to figure out why it can’t see, touch, taste, smell, and hear what it grew used to doing.
The Resurrection of Jesus Christ reminds us that bodies matter.
So today we have 2 goals. 1st- to give your body permission to mourn.
It is Ok for your body to grieve what’s been lost. To feel sad about the sights, smells, touches it has gone without.
No matter how much your mind may understand what’s going on, your body does not understand, and that is affecting your spiritual and mental health.
The 2nd thing- to think beyond the current moment and focus on the fact that one day we will be together again.
We want you to hold onto the hope that one day we will resume face to face worship and be in the same space.
We are preparing you for our own sort of resurrection in which what was thought to be dead is raised back to life.
But keep in mind, like the Resurrection, when we return, it will be…different.
It will be familiar, yet new. It will be joyous, but also a bit sad.
When we are back together, we’ll hear and see one another, but it will be awhile before we can eat and sing and touch.
But even then, we trust that one day that will come to be.
For this time, allow ourselves the space to mourn what has been lost, to recognize that our body, soul, and mind are all being affected,
But let us also live in hope. Hope that one day soon we will be together.
One day we will worship Christ in the same space.
It’ll be glorious; it’ll be a homecoming.
It will be a time that will engage the senses.
It will be an experience that will connect the body, mind and soul.
Until then, let us live in hope; let us live in the promise of tomorrow.
Amen and amen.
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