The Whole Body Grows Strong in Love

“God has placed each part in the body just as he wanted it to be.  If all the parts were the same, how could there be a body? As it is, there are many parts. But there is only one body. ^[…] the parts of the body will not take sides. All of them will take care of one another. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it. If one part is honored, every part shares in its joy.”  1 Corinthians 12: 18-20, 25-26 NIrV

Some disability theologians find this passage of scripture uncomfortable because it sounds like it presupposes a typical body – perfect and whole. Sometimes disability can feel like brokenness, especially if it’s an acquired disability, where a once “perfect” body changes in a way that is challenging. I understand this feeling, but I still love this passage and the metaphor of the Body of Christ. I believe that the Body of Christ is more expansive than we might expect and that disability adds to the richness of the body.

The Backstory

Since becoming disabled over a decade ago, I’ve been on a long journey of combatting internalized ableism toward my need for mobility aids. When I was diagnosed with Myasthenia Gravis it took me over a year to start using a cane, a while longer to get a walker, and several more years to accept that I actually need a wheelchair sometimes.

I’m still shy about using my wheelchair because of the vulnerability and dependence that it introduces into relationships. I can’t self-propel in my chair so I need to ask those I’m with to push me, and that’s difficult for me to do. I worry it may change the dynamic of my relationships or that needing help might portray me as weaker, or lesser, somehow. I’m still grappling with how to accept those parts of myself.

However, Ephesians 4:16 (NLV) encourages me: “Christ has put each part of the church in its right place. Each part helps other parts. This is what is needed to keep the whole body together. In this way, the whole body grows strong in love.”

None of us are complete on our own – He puts each part in its right place and together we grow strong in love. God taught me this in a very tangible way through my friends Megann and Emmy.

I met Megann and Emmy a few years ago at the Institute on Theology and Disability in Boston. We spent that week together, and have stayed connected through social media since. Recently Megann asked if she could write about an interaction we had had.  We’d never spoken about the moment in question but as she told me her side of the story it was very eye-opening. I’d had no idea what she was experiencing that day.  If you haven’t yet, you should read her account and then come back here for my side of the story.

The Moment

As I sat in a conference classroom on my bright blue convertible walker/wheelchair, listening to the workshop speaker, I could hear another voice in the room.  Behind me a baby was talking.  Maybe even complaining a little.  Emmy was 7 months old and no matter how engaging the workshop was, she was a little too young and a little too tired to appreciate it. Over the past couple days I’d been watching Megann balance the needs of her young daughter with her own need to learn. The two of them seemed to have a beautiful rhythm to their relationship and they were blending into the community seamlessly, but I remembered what it had been like when my child was a baby and how sometimes they just need a change of face.  So I turned around and asked if Emmy would like me to hold her.

Emmy came to me easily and we rocked back and forth as we listened to the workshop.  She played with me as babies do; kicking lightly against my legs, clapping her palm against mine, exploring the brake cables and metal cylinders of my walker frame with her tiny fingers. I realized she was using my mobility aids as an extension of my body.

As we continued to rock back and forth, I felt my wheels allow me to connect with Emmy in a way that I couldn’t have without them. It was the first time I felt like my wheels made me more than I’d been without them. Emmy and I rocked and enjoyed each other, and I learned that I am more whole when I appreciate the parts of myself that I find most difficult to accept. That moment was incredibly healing for me.  Holy even.

I had no idea it was also impactful for Megann.

Growing Strong in Love

If we believe that “Christ has put each part of the church in its right place” and that “each part helps other parts” we need to offer the vulnerable parts of ourselves as well. “This is what is needed to keep the whole body together. In this way, the whole body grows strong in love.”

Christ taught us this by example. After his death and resurrection, when he had the power to appear any way he wanted to, he kept his wounds. He chose a nonconforming body. In that broken body he walked, talked, ate, taught, loved, and strengthened his community of followers.  And in one instance he used the most vulnerable pieces of himself to minister as he invited Thomas to touch his wounds, to “reach out your hand and put it into my side” (John 20:27 NIrV)

In this moment it was not only his divinity that he offered to Thomas, but his unique quality of being God incarnate. It was his brokenness he offered to deepen that relationship. We all have ways in which we feel broken. We have aspects of ourselves we perceive as flaws and would like to “fix”.  What parts of our personalities might we try to minimize or hide?

I worry that I’m too much – my enthusiasm can overwhelm a situation, or stifle others’ participation, so sometimes I try to reign it in. This part of my personality can feel like a liability, but when I decide instead to carefully offer my intensity, it can lead to deeper connections with others. It is important to be discerning about when to share our vulnerabilities.  We don’t want to become so open with the hard things that they become a distraction.  Christ was on earth for a while with his wounds and yet we only read one story where he called attention to them.  He only made his wounds the focus of the interaction when he knew it would be a help to Thomas; when he knew it would lead to growth in love.

May we follow the example of Christ and offer our “wounds” or vulnerabilities as gifts to each other in order to strengthen the Body in love.