A sliver

It's Holy Week - they all seem holy at some point or another, but this week is all about passion. Passion of the Christ. I watched Mel Gibson's rendition (re-enactment if you will), the glorifying gore fest of Hollywood weds strange biblical interpretion. I think more people talked about how gruesome the movie was than the actual content of the biblical narrative. Hollywood focuses on action rather than on dialogue, on blood rather than experience. I found myself cringing to watch the lengthy scenes of torture - not because it bothered me emotionally, but that I was thinking about the thousands of people who were going to watch this film because Mel Gibson's name was on it. He's come a long ways from Lethal Weapon, don't you think?



Western media has a fascination with gore. Our movies, newspapers, magazines, TV shows are awash with the ways that the human body can be hurt. Although most young people (and I included, at times) are immune or numbed to the display of blood, there are still moments when I have to avert my eyes. One such time that I did recently was while watching the TV show Survivor. I have to admit that I am a Survivor fan - I even tried out for the show a few years ago (I can't imagine why they didn't accept me - there must not be many Lutherans on the selection committee. If there were, I probably would have been sent to a subcommittee who would have passed me off to a task team of the subset of a committee. Anyway, I'm digressing farther and farther into the realm of losing even myself.) So, I was watching Survivor and one of my favorite players of all time, James, was enjoying one of the challenges. As he was running through a maze or something, he cut his finger a bit. James, an undertaker by profession, seemed to brush off the injury and proceed playing the game.

After a few days, the small cut on his finger, because it was not properly treated, became infected. The knuckle and surrounding skin began to swell. His pain was evident, but there was not possibility to take care of it without surrending his position in the game. Finally, a medic came to evaluate his injury and she, without hesitation, told him his options. He could continue playing the game and risk not only losing his finger but gathering a life-threatening blood infection - or leave the game and treat the finger. Wisely, James chose the latter, but I was frustrated. How could something so little take out the strongest player. I was imagining that if James would be taken from the game it would be for breaking a bicep or something. Not something little like that.

Maybe all of us have had something like that happen in our lives. Running your hand down a bannister or across a bare wooden wall - a sliver, finds its way under the skin. Sometimes I don't even notice it - not until it begins to hurt. Sometimes I assume that my body will simply just absorb the sliver, digest it and I will be none for the worse. I don't remove it right away, usually, because excising the sliver is almost more painful than the sliver itself - at first, that is. But gradually, the body knows that this intrusive substance will only cause sickness and pain and if left long enough, the poison seeps into the veins and heart; then, risk death.

All from a little sliver.

All from a little word. One word thrown casually gets under the skin of someone else. Or, a rumor that is just too juicy to pass by. Maybe a person who doesn't share the same ideologies, I just want to offer them a little barb - maybe a small, sarcastic remark. And there it is, that sliver of a painful word is lodged under the skin. It festers and soon the poison might seep in. Then, a word thrown back.

We as Christians - we as people - need to remember that we, together, are the body of Christ. What affects someone else, affects me also. When another member of the body is injured, in pain, or hurting, I am not immune to that. We can either treat the injury, even though the surgery process may be painful, or we can let it infect the whole body and the whole body will become ill. Churches are notorious for letting this happen. In the name of being 'nice' we try and let different words slide, but too often they become lodged too close to the pain receptors and soon we are passing on slivers to others in the church. That poison is what kills individual congregations.

When Jesus said, "Do to others as you would have them do to you," I think he truly meant, "When you do something to others you ARE doing it to yourself." We are intricately connected. We cannot separate ourselves.

Next week (it will only be one week, hopefully) let's discuss how to effectively treat the effects of infection in the body of Christ. How do we, as Christians, speak honestly and openly about things that may be hurtful?

That should be a fun sliver!