1 Corinthians 12: 1-11
By Brenda Houchen
January 20, 2019
Before I was five, I knew my place. I knew who I was. I was the youngest child and the only daughter of farmers. I was a daddy’s girl, and as I told my father one time, “You have a five-year-old daughter who isn’t afraid of cows and horses,” to which he responded, “I know and I’m really proud of that.” “But,” I said, “you have a five-year-old daughter who is afraid of chickens.” That is a story for another day. I could sing and I loved to dance. And I was definitely a show off.
We went to church and I heard verses and stories about talents and gifts and service, but I didn’t always understand. I wondered how I would know what my talents were. How would I know? Would someone tell me or would I just figure it out by myself.
My circumstances started to change. First, my sister was born. I was no longer the youngest or the only daughter. We lived too far from anyone who could give ballet lessons. And then we left the farm. All of these events made a change in how I viewed myself and who I was.
I continued to wonder what my talents were. I mostly remember making comparisons with what I saw were the gifts given to others. I was always looking at their gifts and thinking, “Oh, what I could do if I had gotten THAT skill or that ability or that talent.” I would think that the person who had the gift didn’t really know what to do with it, like I would be able to do. I kept reaching for what I saw in others rather than looking inside for what I could offer. And I kept hoping for a lightning bolt to strike or a divine message to be delivered, telling me what my talent was.
We moved into the nearby small town and then to the big city and then to a bigger city as my parents looked to get more education to take care of their family, but I mostly (as children do I suppose) concentrated on how those events affected me. As I made more comparisons of myself to others, I got quieter.
Around this same time, a person in another part of the US was encountering changing circumstances that affected himself, and his family, and his country. Martin Luther King Jr. faced racism from an early age, and those events stayed with and eventually brought him to a life of activism. After graduating college with a doctorate degree in theology, King became a pastor in Alabama. He began a series of peaceful protests in the south that eventually changed many laws dealing with the equality of African Americans. King gave hundreds of moving speeches across the country, and in 1964 was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. How did Martin Luther King know where his talents were? Did someone tell him? Was he able to figure it out as he went along? Did he wait to get guidance or did he jump in and make choices?
On April 4, 1968, King was shot and killed while in Memphis, Tennessee. I was ten years old. I was asked about my memories of this time and this person. While life today seems so connected and information about any tragedy or event is immediately transmitted around the world, it didn’t happen that way then. Parents did not typically discuss events of the day with young children, and we certainly did not watch the news or read the newspaper.
Any knowledge I have of MLK, Jr., comes from others. His quotes, his speeches, or video that I saw many years after his assassination. In my mind, King belongs with a group of men in my childhood who attempted and accomplished great things, but whose lives were cut short by those who did not agree with them or with their methods. Many people who did know King would speak of his charisma. In Greek, the word “charismata” means a divinely conferred power or talent, and comes from the same root word “charis” that means grace. Grace is a word I am all too familiar with from many years of Bible stories, and sermons, and Sunday school. Grace is something available to and given to us all.
It is all too easy to look at the life and service of Martin Luther King, Jr., and deem him a hero, a person given gifts not available to the rest of us. How did King know he had the gifts needed to accomplish the tasks he set? Did he know instinctively or did he need guidance? But this is not a competition. We cannot each of us do everything, but we can do something. King himself reminds us: “If I cannot do great things, I can do small things in a great way.” “Not everybody can be famous but everybody can be great because greatness is determined by service. You only need a heart full of grace and a soul generated by love.” King saw something he could do and he acted.
It was the community who provided my epiphany about talents: as I left adolescence I started to notice simple comments made by people I babysat for or who were friends of my parents. They might say “you did that so well,” or “you are so good at that.” I figured as adults they must know something that I did not. The comments they made, although I never knew why they made them, gave me the guidance I needed to understand what my talents were. Those words provided by the community helped me to understand where I fit and what I could accomplish.
There are so many challenges today that can made us feel confused and conflicted, unsure of where to put our talents and our efforts. More events and struggles can demand our attention than we can understand or tackle. A colleague where I teach is 10 years older than I am and since he is African American and grew up in South Carolina, I thought he might have more clear memories of Martin Luther King than I have. What he remembers is hearing a sermon in his Southerm Baptist church about unity: Can you pick up a coin with one finger? If you use two fingers, it gets a little easier. With three fingers even more and with four easier still. However, it is when you include the thumb with all the fingers that you can easily do anything. It is when we pool our talents and work together tha we accomplish all things in Christ.
Amen.