Throughout the centuries, different metaphors have been used to describe the Church. Some come directly from Scripture, some from our own experience and longing. This unusual gathering of people who come together bound in a common confession to receive the gift of God and sing His praises has been referred to as a flock, an ark, a city set on a hill, or, I think, what is most popular these days is to speak of the Church as a family. People will talk about “my church family,” and, at times, it can really feel that way. I remember when we were in Georgia, the kids were little. They had several grandparents around the church, people they would sit with during the service, people who would help my wife keep her sanity. They were trusted and helpful individuals, people you began to depend on just like your own family. Family is a good metaphor. Who does not want a good and healthy family, a place of welcome, inclusion, and love? Family is a great way to think about what we are.

Yet, the one image Scripture speaks clearly about, which Saint Paul details for us in 1 Corinthians, is perhaps not our default one. He describes the Church as a body. In fact, he speaks of us as the body of Christ. He says, “For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and all were made to drink of one Spirit.” One body with individual members, individual parts of the body. How often do you think of yourselves in this way? You are each members of the whole body, the body we call the Church. It is a rather beautiful image, is it not? If you consider your own body and all its different parts, each one affects the whole of your body. There may be things you do not like, parts you want to improve, or ailments which plague you, but the whole body is caught up in the system’s functioning. Your little toe may seem unimportant until you stub it on the end of the sofa and, suddenly, each part of the body and even the tongue itself is awakened to the wounded digit.

Perhaps we do not default to this image because the body in question, the body that is the Church, is not one of our making. It is a body constructed like Frankenstein’s monster, pieces and parts sewn together from various sources and animated by the Spirit into a living and sometimes grotesque creature. This is not an image we tend to want to lean into. If we imagine a body, we imagine a beautiful and organic creature, not a hodgepodge of different pieces stitched together, although this is precisely what we are. Our fellowship, our family, our city set on a hill is a living creature of sewn-together pieces from different backgrounds, different ages, different life experiences, different ambitions, and dreams, yet here we are. You may not even know the names of the people around you. You might have no idea what they do for a living or where they live, but here we are, one body, the body of Christ.

As many of you know, this last summer, while I was on sabbatical, my family and I went to various churches. We wanted to see what they were doing; what church was like for them, how they understood themselves, and what it meant for them to be in fellowship together. Interestingly, not one of the large popular ones, you know, the ones you see proudly displayed on the window decals of the cars around town, looked anything like Frankenstein’s monster. In fact, they appeared very put together. They had almost a corporate feel about them. It was a well-designed brand which is easily reproduced and focused on the curious onlooker who stumbles in to see what was for sale. It was universally a happy and pleasant experience that would never shock or offend anyone.

Possibly I have just been involved in church for too long, but it all seemed a bit fake to me. It was like a voluntary organization without the scars and deformities of a sewn-together corpse. The reality of the situation is that this life together, this family, which is supposed to be in union and harmony, is never completely united. There are too many various desires and dislikes, too many voices of dissent and discontentment. The people of God can quickly turn on each other and pull and tear at the body of Christ. This happens mostly when we forget we are a body. We think there are parts we do not need or perhaps parts we do not have to love, or at least parts we do not need to love very much. So, we neglect them because we think our vision and our goals are the only ones that are for the blessing of the body. Or on the other side, we begin to think the body does not need us, that we do not fit or have a role to play.

But Paul says, “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.’ On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and on those parts of the body that we think less honorable, we bestow the greater honor.” This body demands and calls for humility. It operates not on pride but on love. Your heavenly Father has put this monster together. He has constructed this body so the gifts of each one of you are a blessing and benefit to one another. As Paul argues, “If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.” Here, we are turned toward each other. Your joys are the joys of the person sitting in front of you and your sorrows are the sorrows of the one kneeling next to you at the Lord’s Table.

You have been pulled out of this crazy world to find yourself connected to these people. Together, we are the body of Christ. In the Catechism, we confess, “I believe that I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in Jesus Christ, my Lord, or come to Him; but the Holy Spirit has called me by the Gospel, enlightened me with His gifts, sanctified and kept me in the true faith. In the same way He calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies the whole Christian Church on earth.” You are here because He called you and enlightened you by His gifts. You are here because you have gathered to receive the very presence of our crucified and risen Lord for the forgiveness of sins and the promise of eternal life. But just as He gathers you to Himself, so He gathers you together, one living body. And they are crucial to your life; to your spiritual life, to your physical life, to your joys, to enduring your sorrows, to your children, and your children’s children. This body is how we endure. It is how we learn to love. It is where our strength comes from as it turns us again and again to the cross, to the gifts of life and salvation.

We gather in this place, being washed and cleansed by our Lord. We gather here not just because we want to, it fits our schedule, or because we like the people around us. We gather here because we need this place. We need one another. For in the presence of one another, we are directed again to the peace of God which surpasses all understanding. We are turned to His body and blood given and shed for you for the forgiveness of your sins. Here, your Creator steps into your life to give you blessings of assurance and confidence of forgiveness. Eternal paradise breaks into our midst in with and under the bread and wine as this body is fed and nourished to endure.

Paul says, “Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.” Each of you has a role to play. Each of you are filled with the blessings of Christ, blessings you now bear, first to one another and then out to the world, those cut off and separated from true life. For this, we are created, and by this, we endure.