Now I urge you, brothers and sisters, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree in what you say, that there be no divisions among you, and that you be united with the same understanding and the same conviction. 1 Corinthians 1:10
Many years ago, I noticed an announcement in the church bulletin that the “bell ringers” were practicing on Wednesday evening at 6:30. Bell ringers? I won- dered, sitting there between the prelude and the call to worship. Who—or what—are bell ringers? I wonder if these folks all show up looking like Santa Claus at the Salvation Army bucket during the Christmas season. Maybe they work local boxing matches? When they expire, are they eulogized as dead ringers?
This was a time when I should have been meditating to prepare for the upcoming service. Instead, my thoughts were elsewhere. Of course, this is something you’ve never done, right?
It wasn’t too long until the bell ringers performed in a worship service. They walked to several long tables covered with felt cloth and brass bells that ranged in size from a tiny tinker bell all the way up to a couple of bells that looked big enough to hang in a church tower.
But when the bell ringers started doing their thing, I was completely taken with this glorious music. Every note, every chord was flawlessly played as these white-glove- and-robe-clad volunteers snapped their wrists in perfect sequence. The music lifted my spirits. It was unlike anything I had ever heard before. It was angelic, awesome. I was sorry I had been so cynical. Shame on me. Several years later, after a few moves to new cities, we were sitting in our church during the bell-ringing prelude when it hit me: what a great illustration of a family this is—God’s family and my family.
Bells come in all sizes. Each one makes a different sound. Bell ringers also come in all shapes and sizes. Fortunately, most music directors don’t ask the big guys to tinkle the tiny ones or ask the petite women to be Quasimodo. The sight would be way too comical for church.
Anyway, what if during an anthem, one ringer decided to ignore the music in front of him? What if he decided to play his own music? Not only would he sound terrible, but the whole piece of music would be destroyed. If one person didn’t cooperate, every ringer would suffer. And what if a ringer didn’t show up to perform? What then?
Today’s verses remind me of the bell ringers. “You do not lack any spiritual gift,” Paul reported to the Corinthian Christians (v. 7), adding, “That all of you agree in what you say, that there be no divisions among you, and that you be united with the same understanding and the same conviction” (v. 10).
Notice he did not say, “You may be perfectly the same, looking alike and playing the same bells.” No, he challenged his readers in this early church body to pull together, to encourage one another, to play their own parts, to show up to practice, to be unified.
If you’re the dad in your home, you will probably be called on to direct this little bell-ringing band. If you need to, take them to hear a bell choir, then tell them about “perfect unity.” They’ll get the picture. “Perfect unity”—something every family could use. For you and me as dads, the sound of it has such a nice ring to it, don’t you think?