The smallest member

A week ago, I fractured my pinky toe. You know the one, that smallest member of our outward body. 

How did I do it? I was hurrying across my bedroom, skirted the edge of my bed too closely, and caught the leg of the bench at the end of my bed between my pinky toe and my fourth toe. 

Not even a good story to tell! 

It hurt to walk. By the next morning, the toe was purple, and a bruise also covered half of my foot! That’s when I decided to get it X-rayed, and my suspicions were confirmed. 

We don’t often think about that pinky toe. It’s insignificant in our everyday lives. It’s a “weaker member” of our body, not good for much except maybe some balance. 

So this week I’ve had a very tangible example of Paul’s admonition to us about the Body of Christ, the church. 

Paul likens the church to our physical bodies—one body composed of many members, all of whom function differently. Some have very recognizable and laudable gifts. Others are more hidden. Less celebrated. And yet, Paul tells us in 1 Corinthians 12:22 that all are necessary for the body to function correctly. Not only that, in verse 26, he reminds us that if one member of the body—physical or metaphorical—suffers, all suffer with it. 

No better example than my pinky toe! I’m limping at the moment because walking in the usual way is very painful. When I limp, it affects not just my foot, but also my hips and back. My toe injury impedes my walking for exercise and, more importantly, my pickleball habit! 

Less exercise means I need to decrease my calorie intake, which my stomach doesn’t appreciate. I sit far more than usual, which my neck and shoulders don’t like. Even my brain is affected, because I will forget my injury for a moment, take a step, then pain explodes, reminding me that something is not right. 

If, as Paul tells us, the Church functions in the same manner as our physical body, then I’m living out a spiritual lesson right now. The health of my pinky toe is important to my entire body’s health. In the same way, the spiritual health of even the smallest, most seemingly insignificant members of the Church affects the Body of Christ as a whole. This is true of both the Church as a whole and our local congregations. 

While we might not be able to address the health issues of the Church in all its forms and facets, we can open our eyes in our own Christian communities. Where is the one who doesn’t talk often? Whose gifts are more behind the scenes than out front? Have you checked on them lately? Are they hurting? How can we help foster their healing, not only for their sake, but for the sake of Christ’s Body on earth? 

I don’t have all the answers, but I feel like asking the questions is a start. Just as I want my physical body to be healthy again, I want my church body to be spiritually thriving, to care for all of its hurting members as part of the whole, not just the members whose pain is publicaly acknowledged.

I go to an orthopedic foot doctor this week to check on my toe. My prayer is that it is healing normally. But if not, I want to be in a position to take care of that. 

In the same way, my prayer is that we will be sensitive to the hurting members of our own churches, to help ensure they heal in ways that promote the health of the entire body.