The Body of Christ

We had a fascinating discussion in our Bible study last week... Did Jesus have a perfect body?

I don't know and since scripture is relatively silent (except for passages like Isaiah 53... but does that refer to his scourged, bloody, skin-in-tatters, nailed body? ), it's conjecture. But is seems to me that our belief in this regard is vitally important for forming and shaping our faith journey.

Do we believe he was perfect of form, well-muscled, with 6-pack abs and long, silky, golden-brown hair?

Or do we believe he could have been as physically unappealing as the passage in Isaiah 53 so vividly describes? Perhaps even with a disability or deformity.

I don't know. What I do know is that I have seen the risen Lord in the Body of Christ and this is what I've observed: The Body is made up of many parts, all interdependent on the other. One person alone is incapable of existing as Christ's Body. Separately, even the strongest, most athletic, most physically beautiful among us, is just a piece of protoplasm. It's only in community that we become the Body of Christ .

For that reason, I rejoice that I have a disability. I know interdependence is not something I naturally seek. Quite the contrary. Left to my own choices, I would be ruggedly independent, a self-made woman. Needing nobody. And giving to nobody.

Because I have a disability, however, I am well-aware that I can't make it on my own. I need people. Sometimes to the point of needing them to survive. When I first realized my need of others, it hurt dreadfully. Receiving from other people felt like emotional surgery without anesthetic. I'm finally learning that sometimes I have to receive from others and sometimes I can give something somebody else needs. It doesn't have to be reciprocal with the same person. It just has to be balanced within the entire organism.

I don't have to speculate on what Jesus' body looked like. I see it everyday. And it looks a lot like all of you. (and me.) Together. Glorious.

It looks like you... my Circle of Friends. People who serve more times than I can count as my legs and strength (tossing my wheelchair into the trunk of a car so we can go to lunch together, helping me in to doctor's appointments, cleaning my house, rearranging my office, taking my ministry dreams and visions and giving them legs). People who hold me when I cry. People who listen to my sorrows and joys. People who build wheelchair ramps, and pick me up off the ground. People who encourage and support my journey to better physical health. People who show me honor and respect and kindness and love. People who believe and encourage my gifts and willingly receive from those gifts.

In community with all of you, I experience what it means to be Christ-Bodied, and that is way better than able-bodied ever was.

You transform disability.