Body Parts

In early January, back before this ubiquitous pandemic, I acquired a new knee to replace the one my mother knitted together for my date of birth back in 1942. All those years and untold miles made parting with the old one a form of sweet sorrow.

However, as they say in some body shops, “parts is parts”. I picked up a new hip several years back and a brand new ankle from Duke. So it will be hard for me to claim that I’m made up of original equipment. But, hey, who’s to say that we need to stay in mint condition, and I dare any one of us to try that. Through many dangers, toils and snares we’ve already come, and God willing, this old body, along with the new parts, will someday get me home.

In addition to bones and joints, I understand you can get hearts and kidneys. Tummy tucks and face lifts are becoming the rage among the AARP group. Remembering Billie Holiday’s haunting song about body and soul, I’ve started searching for a newer and sturdier soul to go with what’s left of this body with which to finish the race set before me so when I do shuttle off this mortal coil, I’ll have all the thrust necessary to land on Canaan’s shore. Or wherever!

After all the Easter hullabaloo, Jesus finally departed this veil of tears. When the dust settled, he did this daring thing to his followers: he called on them to be his body. [Paul elaborates on the Body of Christ and its various parts in Corinthians.] During the Covid-19 crises, the best thing any Body can do is wash your hands for twenty seconds, don’t touch your face, keep six feet apart from others, and stay home. So the Body of Christ finds itself “virtually” worshipping on our computer screens or the drive-by, stay-in-your-car Easter resurrection parade.

Something’s missing here because, at its core, worship is a contact sport. Even proper Presbyterians prefer proximity. Remember when we came together on a weekly basis in order to sit by each other, pray with each other, shake hands, share stories, and hug each other for dear life. We actively spoke and listened to the Body language of Church. All the body parts did their thing to make a joyful noise and pass the plate and break the bread and drink the cup and leave with renewed energy. Scoffing at reality at times, one hymn declared “we are not divided, all one body we…”, but said so within the Beloved Community. We sang to high heavens, and I believe, in the final analysis, those hymns of ours are the blessed ties that bind us together until we meet again.

That’s why I enjoy playing my Mormon Tabernacle Choir records and belting out those great choral works in harmony with them. Tapping out “who from our mothers’ arms has blessed us on our way” on my new knee. Quietly listening to the music of the spheres. Remembering the words of the Carpenters when they sang…I got my troubles and woe but, sure as I know, the Jordan will roll and I’ll get along as long as a song is still in my soul… That’s some soul food for thought during these days of distance dancing, especially to the upbeat tune of Lord of the Dance.