"On the contrary, it is much truer that the members of the body which seem to be weaker are necessary; and those members of the body which we deem less honorable, on these we bestow more abundant honor, and our less presentable members become much more presentable, whereas our more presentable members have no need of it. But God has so composed the body, giving more abundant honor to that member which lacked, so that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. And if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it."—1 Corinthians 12:22–26 (NASB)

What a Week!

TV stars Ed McMahon and Farrah Fawcett, musician Michael Jackson, and pitchman Billy "OxiClean" Mays.

Gone.

My heart went out to Ed and Farrah as they battled to save their lives. Jackson creeped me out. And whenever I heard, "Hi! Billy Mays here…" I clicked the mute button. His shouting jangled my already frayed nerves.

Jackson's death overshadows Ed, Farrah and Billy. And I confess, I'm on Michael Jackson overload.

Yet, I feel for their families and especially the children left behind to grieve.

The organizers of their memorial services will not search far to find other famous names paying tribute and extolling their virtues and contributions to their respective professions.

Our society idolizes fame, fortune and flair, marginalizing the less capable.

The Least of These

God desires that we identify with the needs of those less fortunate, generously sharing what we have with others. There are times as a single parent that I feel overlooked, ignored, taken advantage of, and even mistreated. My suffering motivates me to comfort others.

I attended Faith and Light with a severely disabled friend. According to our culture's values, my friend contributes nothing valuable—intellectually or creatively. Yet he brings joy to everyone who loves him. A shy priest read 1 Corinthians 12:22–26, then pointed out that the disabled, who are weak, are indispensible.

I long to trust God the way my disabled friend trusts me. He slips his soft, clawed hand into mine, trusting me to lead, guide, protect, provide, and care for him. His faith in me is simple and complete.

Shunning those less fortunate declares, "We don't need you." The media shines the spotlight on those who crave the limelight. Maybe our culture needs to apply a generous dose of "OxiClean" to remove the stain of not honoring those our society considers "less honorable?"