By Mother Rebecca
On Tuesday, I noticed a prickling feeling on the edge of my right pointer finger. I’d been rubbing on it for most of the day, when my brain finally engaged with the dawning understanding that something was wrong. Bringing my hand toward my face and turning to allow light to shine on my finger, I readily realized what was causing the sensation. A splinter of wood had lodged itself into the layers of my skin. I’d love to be able to tell you where it came from, but I do not truly know. What I do know is that how the splinter got into my skin was far less important to me on Tuesday afternoon than how I could get it out. That was an arduous and painful process, leaving my skin even more irritated after the procedure than it was when the splinter was lodged in place. It’s taken the better part of the week for the skin to come back together – for healing and wholeness to return.
I tell you this story, because this incident – the lodging of the tiniest fragment of wood into the skin of the pointer finger on my right hand – had me reflecting all week long. At first, these reflections seemed mere mundane musings: how is it possible that something so small can create such huge pain and take so long to heal? I soon realized these musings were far from mundane. Anyone who’s ever been in relationship with another human being knows that the smallest of things – an eye roll, a murmur, an oversight – can cause deep and prolonged pain and lead to a splintering of relationship that takes a long time to heal.
All these reflections on splinters led me to the Sermon on the Mount, recorded in Chapters 5 through 7 of Matthew’s Gospel. If you haven’t read these chapters lately, please pull out your Bible and read them afresh this week. Because in the Sermon on the Mount, we meet Jesus teaching a master class that could be called “Fundamentals of Life with Christ” or “Discipleship 101.” And at the heart of this primer on Christian life, Jesus talks about … splinters. Here’s the relevant excerpt:
Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. For with the judgment you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get. Why do you see the splinter in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own? Or how can you say to your neighbor ‘Let me take the splinter out of your eye,’ while the log is in your own? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the splinter out of your neighbor’s (Matt. 7:1-5).
Friends, this hit home for me this week. It hit home, because I worry that I am far more ready to see the splinters in my neighbors’ eyes than I am to address the log in my own.
I am deeply grateful to serve among you here at Transfiguration, where we “seek and serve Christ in all persons.” I love that inclusion of our LGBTQ+ sisters and brothers has been a core component of our identity for decades. I am proud to participate each June in the Dallas Pride Parade, as we share the Good News of Jesus Christ with people who have been marginalized and wounded by our culture and, worse, by the Church for their sexual orientation or gender identity. I love that our Outreach Committee works hard to lead us in supporting our neighbors with the greatest needs through our Food Pantry, Austin Street Center, St. Jude’s, Vogel, Genesis, and so many other partners. Inclusivity is one of my core values, and I love that I get to practice that value with you here in this place.
At the same time, I frequently find myself judging others, including fellow Christians, who I perceive to be less inclusive than I want us all to be. I fall into the trap of differentiating between the “good” Christians and the “bad people”, including many who call themselves Christian while failing to love others as Jesus loves us; and I find myself feeling increasingly certain that I can tell the difference. This tendency to judge has only increased this year, as elected officials take every opportunity to chip away at inclusivity in our society. The daily news cycle seems determined to fuel my judgment of others, making it easier for me to reflect on how bad certain others can be than it is to come face to face with the ways in which I have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23). It is easier to look at the splinters in others’ eyes than the log in my own. Yet the more I focus on those splinters, the more splintered the Body of Christ becomes.
This week on Sunday, we’ll hear Jesus praying passionately for an end to everything that splinters God’s one, holy, catholic and apostolic church. Jesus will pray that we – all of us who seek to follow him – would “become completely one” (John 17:23). That we, in spite of our many differences, would come together – that healing and wholeness would prevail in the Body of Christ. It is a message we need to hear. It is a prayer that we must make our own.
The splinter with which I dealt this week made its way painlessly into my finger. Removing it required me to prod and poke and pierce my skin with needle-nosed tweezers, damaging the surrounding tissue in the process and causing inflammation and irritation. Yet the splinter was so deeply lodged that the pain of working at its removal was worth it. My prayer this week is that our prayers and our lives would align with Jesus’ prayer and that we would set aside our worries and preoccupations with the splinters in the eyes of our sisters and brothers so that we can devote ourselves to the logs in our own and, in so doing, become agents of unity in this mysterious and holy Body of Christ.
Blessings to you,
Rebecca+