Week 4 | The Great Communion | Pre-Conference Devotionals

The Corinthians were an ancient and prideful people, but they shared with us a modern problem of systemic hierarchy in the social sphere. They enjoyed and embraced their class system much like we do–mostly unconsciously–today. As a result, the ability to see another person without the inherent, structural bias of that day was nearly impossible, thus seeing someone’s full humanity was sadly rare.

Paul, seeing this pattern of social behavior, and knowing that it countered the desire and design of Jesus, flatly rejected this need for social constraints, and so his language tends to be very instructive to the Corinthians. For example, in 1 Corinthians 13:11, the reader is told to “stop acting like a child already”. Clearly, Paul is much more of a poet than I am, but his point would have been heard clearly. And, I am sure the Corinthians would have been challenged to understand.

Paul is persistent, however, and continues to attempt to inspire wisdom through his instruction. He is trying to think ahead in developing his metaphor. Using the act of maturing as one example, Paul is aware that we tend to go within ourselves as we age to find meaning, so he writes, “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.” 1 Corinthians 13:12 (NRSV)

As we dwell upon the metaphor, it starts to take on a visual that is both stunning and challenging. Maturity means that we have to face ourselves, much like looking in a mirror, but then our environment is not suited for us to see clearly. In some translations, the word “dimly” is translated to mean “in a riddle”. In other words, we look at ourselves, and we are confused. As an alternative to the mirror; however, Paul offers us something better–each other. So, we reject the confusion that we see in the mirror and instead offer each other our faces, or symbolically our attention and connection with the peers and people who shape our community.

The reward for offering ourselves to each other in this way is amazing. As the scripture continues, it says that we get to know ourselves fully. What a righteous and challenging truth! To know myself, I have to see myself in someone else.

Of course, if the other person denies me their face–relationship through shared connection, then we both lose. Thus, it is incumbent upon us, as Christians, to be an ever-present source of invitation and welcome to connect, because we have to let others know when we are ready (or mature) enough to offer the face-to-face encounter of connection to self, and ultimately connection to God.

This concept of relationship is profound in its simplicity, and this design for living in relationship has been evident in our DNA since creation. Recall how the metaphor or relationship between Adam and Eve in the beginning in the Garden of Eden even required them to know each fully and see their humanity in each other before they realized that they were human. Of course, some may argue that I am using the example of a curse to describe something that we seek today–deep human connection–alas, the experience of humanity rings true. We need connection to each other!

Imagine that we are called to cook a holy meal together. Upon entering the kitchen, we redirect our posture from walking side-by-side to standing face-to-face; this is important for the work of cooking. We have to be able to see what the other person is doing and communicate what we need for the tasks set in front of each of us.

Cooking metaphorically becomes a practice in equity, because it requires us to communicate need with the hope that the other person might have the ingredients that we require to complete our portion of the meal. Hand me the salt. Pass the flour. Set the timer. These are as common a phrase as those that we might utter to one another in connection to one another. I feel lonely. I need you to help me. Do not forget me.

Cooking is not always an equal practice, is it? Some of us enter the kitchen with gourmet skills, while others can barely boil a pot of water. So we compensate and align ourselves with others who can speak and instruct, encourage, or supplement that which we are trying to accomplish. This is relational equity, looking to participate in the life of community with our full selves, offering our full talents, and expecting that in doing so, we will be nourished by the outcome, even when we do not have all the skills. The first step, of course, is to participate, regardless of talent, and sometimes that is the bravest act of all.

There may be a temptation to reject the wisdom of Paul and the metaphor of the kitchen to attempt to do life on our own. As a pastor, the number one complaint that I receive about life is loneliness, and it is usually coupled with a stubbornness to avoid the help of others, while expecting others to understand and respond to the loneliness. It is quite the vicious cycle.

Paul encourages us (or directs us, rather) to look in the mirror, and see all our confusing parts, the things that we do not understand about ourselves, and then to turn to others in earnest and authentic expression to connect. In this way we get to know our full humanity. What a gift. What a joy. What a challenge.

In reflection of this lesson, I would encourage you to write down the name of seven people with whom you know that you share connection, but–maybe–have not connected in a while. Label each person with a day of the week Sunday through Saturday, and on their corresponding day, I would encourage you to give them a call–FaceTime, or the equivalent, if you have the means. Look them “face-to-face” and recall that in them, your true self is revealed. Go in peace. Amen.

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Week 3 | The Great Communion | Pre-Conference Devotionals