The Poison that Divides

By Sara Kernan

I desperately wish that I was a nurse. The path to becoming a nurse is one of total commitment that comes with a gauntlet of requirements to conquer. Those that complete nursing school didn’t get much sleep, memorized textbooks thick with information, and worked hard until the very end.

To become a nurse, one must take specific steps and follow a linear path. Point A to Point B. I had a friend on this path. She was completing nursing school while I was completing my college route. Our friendship blossomed in the form of pen-pal letters from high school to present day. Reading her letters, I thought her excitement was palpable. It seemed like she felt more and more affirmed in her choice to do this kind of work for the glory of God. 

My letters? The ones I sent back to her swirled with words of confusion. The direction I followed changed again, and again.

By the time graduation rolled around I was more confused about my calling than when I was a freshman, that first year of college.

My friend has a calling for medical missions. She has known it forever. 

As for me? The only thing I know for certain, is that I have to write.  I feel called to write about topics that edify women. How does this calling to write glorify God? What is the path that best suits me? These are the questions I wrestled with as my friend stepped with confidence into each predetermined step of her calling.

Comparison Robs Us of Relationship

I felt excited for my friend, but it left me feeling even worse for myself. Her clarity in her calling presented a stark contrast to my nonlinear route of writing. 

What can my words actually do? Why hadn’t I pursued something more tangible? I found myself subtly retreating into myself.

Even as my friend continually poured out support— inside—I felt a growing sense of shame and embarrassment as I compared my accomplishments (or lack thereof) with hers.  

Her gift to the world was better than mine. 

And we know the verses about this. 

The Bible describes the body of Christ in Paul’s letter to Corinth. The body of Christ illustrates how we all serve different functions in a picture of unity.

“Now if the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body.”– 1 Corinthians 12:15-20

When I read this passage, it’s difficult not to treat it like a personality test. “What part of the body of Christ am I? Ooh! I can click here to find out!” 

And oh how I wish it were that easy. Click a button and the specifics of my role in the body of Christ is revealed: a step-by-step guide to follow.

But the significant part about this passage isn’t so much the distinction of calling so much as it is this important phrase: one body. 

Paul emphasizes this point in 1 Corinthians 12:

“Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.” – 1 Corinthians 12:27

In conversations about callings and giftings we can lose sight of the part that matters the most. The body of Christ, as one. 

Comparison attacks the community, and the voice behind comparison encourages division and breeds pride and insecurity.

Rather than celebrating my friend and her mobilization in the body of Christ, I felt intimidated and drew into myself.

Giving into comparison took me away from my community, and left me feeling isolated. 

Comparison left me lonely. Comparison leaves us lonely.

We all have a different role to serve in the body of Christ. But more importantly, we are each a part of it, and our togetherness is what is significant. 

It is not an accident that the Bible is filled with diverse accounts of people living in different contexts and different callings. We need the Moses, Joseph, David, Ruth, Paul of the Bible in our body too.

We need leaders who lead in spite of their fear of speaking, leaders who forgive those that hurt them, leaders who start from unique beginnings, leaders who show up for their community, leaders who use their words.

We need these different stories and different purposes to learn from each other and to better represent the body of Christ.

And while comparison leaves us lonely, community builds us up.

And today, I thank God for nurses and writers, and everyone in between.