During our weekend retreat's worship and devotional moments, this Sunday's epistle lesson -- Paul's metaphorical Body of Christ and its unity expressed in diversity --was a frequently cited text.
For some reason, it's not a passage that is speaking to me in a positive way. Lately I've been feeling like a coccyx or a tonsil or a wisdom tooth. And I have again been informed, indirectly, by some supposed sisters and brothers in Christ, that I'm really more of a malignancy that needs to be excised, or a cleft palate that needs to be fixed, or at best an ugly birthmark that the rest of the Body can perhaps tolerate, out of charity, as long as I don't try to pass myself off as normal, 'cause the Bible tells them so.
As the actor asked the director, What's my motivation? What is my motivation to continue to choose to be treated badly, and moreover to drag someone I love into this drama as well?