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“I appeal to you, brothers, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ,
that all of you agree and that there be no
divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same
judgment. For it has been reported
to me . . . that there is quarreling among you” (1 Corinthians 1:10).
Corinth was a huge and important city by ancient standards,
a city of about 250,000 free persons plus as many as 400,000 slaves. It was situated at a major crossroads for
travelers and traders. It had two
deep harbors. It was a wealthy
city, made that by all the vigorous trade going on, and also a culturally
diverse place. There was that
electricity in the air with the different languages being spoken, diverse
foods being sold at market; various clothing that identified your homeland. That diversity is evidenced also in the temple
that was sprinkled around the city.
There was a Jewish synagogue, also a shrine to the Egyptian goddess
Isis. There was a small, struggling Christian
population, and at least 12 temples dedicated to the Greek gods and
goddesses. One of them, dedicated to
Aphrodite, the goddess of love, fostered the liveliest prostitution
industry around. It’s one of the
reasons Corinth
became widely known for its open and unbridled immorality. The Greek verb, “to Corinthianize”
came to mean “to practice sexual immorality.” You can imagine then, in that setting,
how difficult it would be for a new Christian church, a mission church
precariously perched in that bustling city.
The city mostly ignored these Christians, and regarded their ideas
as foolishness. Moreover, it was a church plagued with problems. There were divisions . . . even to the point of litigation in the
pagan courts. There were issues of
sexual immorality and false teaching.
The people of that little church, instead of holding on to one
another for dear life, had decided to pick up sides and fight. How like a church! Outside, the world is perishing in its
unbelief; inside the brothers and sisters are attacking one another,
calling one another names, disparaging the faith of one another, doubting
sincerity, and being just plain mean.
Paul is writing a letter to them to try to straighten some things
out.
One of the things
I love about God’s Word is that sometimes it feels like it were written last week. The problems that confronted the
church in Corinth
are still very much with us: immaturity,
instability, divisions, lawsuits, sexual immorality, marital difficulties
and the like. The Corinthian Christians then, like today, were long on
rights and entitlements and short on duty and responsibility.
“I appeal to you”
Paul writes, “by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree
and that there be no divisions among you, but that
you be united in the same mind and the same [purpose].” Paul could see something these men and
women in Corinth
could not. He knew the risen and
ascended Christ had a message for the world, a message that needed to get
out, a word about the justice of God having been satisfied by Jesus’ death
on a cross, a Word about God’s love and grace in Christ. It’s the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. And get this: its steward, its manager, and its example
is none other than that little group of nit-pickers, the ones who were busy
choosing up sides: “I belong to
Paul”, some said. “Well, I belong to
Peter” others said, and in a brilliant stroke of one-upmanship, another
says, “That may be, but I belong to Jesus alone.” Translate that: he doesn’t have to answer to Paul or
Peter or anyone else for that matter.
How like the
church today. Just when it takes two
steps forward, division and conflict forces at least one step backwards. And you know, we are all complicit, by
what we’ve done, and left undone, what we’ve said and left unsaid.
Each of us is
attracted by bits of the Christian faith, so we want to pick out and
accentuate those bits and leave the rest behind. Therefore we lobby for this and undermine
that. We choose up sides and forget
when to zip it for the good of the body of Christ. That is why there will
always be divisions in the church.
And that is how people who are fighting for quite opposite things
can both say they are fighting for Christianity.
Divisions between
Christians are a sin and a scandal, a major reason why people are turned
off by the church. Each of us knows
that by now. Therefore each of us
should be deliberate about making contributions toward peace and unity. This means when problems are yet small we
work them out with one another. We
don’t let things fester. We get them
out on the table and discuss them reasonably and rationally. Yet we should never discuss conflicts in
the church with those who have not already come to know Jesus Christ as
their Savior. Because you know what
. . . if all they see is a church in
conflict, they never will come to know Christ. They get enough strife at work and at home;
they don’t need more of it at church.
If you believe
that Christ died for the world, and if you believe
that it is our highest calling as Christians to communicate this Gospel in
clear and winsome ways . . . if you believe the world does sometimes notice
how we deal with one another, then this matter has got to be important to
you. In fact, it’s critical.
“I appeal to you,
brothers” Paul writes. That is, “I
beg you by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree and
that there be no divisions among you, but that you
be united in the same mind and purpose.”
Is Paul saying that the needs of the whole are greater than the
needs of the individual? That’s
precisely what he’s saying. Is Paul
suggesting that the community is more important than what I hold dear as a
single person? I think so. Is Paul imploring us, for the sake of the
church, to hold our tongues and restrain our wills and still be supportive
of the mission of the church, even when we don’t get what we want? Yes!
In the church, “I Did it My Way” is not one of our hymns, but rather
“Blest Be the Tie that Binds” and “Lord, Keep us Steadfast to Your Word”
and “Fight the Good Fight.” In the
church, we are better, stronger, more effective
when we are together.
When I was in college,
I thought I knew what was best for God’s church. It was a simple matter really. Just get all the churches in our synod to
do things exactly the way we were doing them at Calvary Lutheran Chapel in Madison. Teach everyone the Detroit Folk Mass and the
Blues Mass and the Chicago Folk Mass and the New Rock Mass . . .
I’d go home now and then for the
weekend and attend my home church and I was so critical of the way things
were done, even to be point of anger.
I didn’t go as worshipper; I went as judge. And I determined that worship in Delevan just
didn’t have the vim and vigor, the enthusiasm and edge as it did in Madison. I’d ask
myself “how could it, with TLH 5 and 15 and with these people?” So smug and ungrateful . . . even
contemptuous of the very church, the very people who had nurtured me in the
faith from infancy! I thought I was
forward-thinking and open-minded. In
actuality, I was narrow, like a blinkered horse. I thought I was wise. In reality, I was foolish. With time, I gradually came to know the
people of God’s church, people of such different outlooks and different
education and experiences, hardworking, genuine people, and my conceit
began peeling off. Not only did I
learn to appreciate the sturdy hymns and liturgies of old. I learned there were some who would wake
up hours before the service, because it would take that long to get ready,
and they hobbled into church with a smile on their faces that concealed the
pain in their joints. Some obviously
had little money and yet were paying for my books at the seminary. Some were grieving a recent death, and
yet were asking me, with genuine interest, how I was doing. Eventually, it came clear. As I looked at the boots and shoes stained
white with road salt, I was not worthy to clean them.
The church is not
our idea, it’s God’s idea, and it’s a good one. We need one another, more than we
know. In the church, we are better
together. Stronger. Wiser. God never intended the Christian
to be a lone ranger. Rather, the
Bible teaches that just as the body has many members (the eyes, arms, legs)
which are very different, so also does the body of Christ, the people of
God’s church. We complement and help
one another precisely by our differences.
God rejoices in those differences.
He knit those wrinkles into us, and by no means wishes to iron them
out. He does, however, desire that we
work together and move together as a church, as one body. And when we do, when Christians with a diverse
set of gifts and skills are all together, of one mind and with one spirit, then
our witness to the Gospel of Jesus Christ is compelling.
That’s our job. That’s our calling. Not to make a fuss when we don’t get what
we want, not to dig in our heels over the color of the carpet, or draw a
line in the sand about how we’re going to do this or that . . . but to show
the world another way . . . to be another way, to be a new creation. That’s what God’s Son came to bring,
that’s how he lived, in order to demonstrate it, that’s why he died to make
it possible, and that’s what he gives as a gift: unity, koinonia,
a fellowship of those redeemed by his cross.
In
fact, that’s what he had in mind the night before his death: the unity of his followers. Just when his closest disciples were more
than tempted to start picking at each other, and to choose up sides and
decide who was responsible for things going so wrong, just then he gave
them . . . and us . . . a great gift.
It’s simple gift, really. He
said that in, with and under the bread and wine, there would be his body
and his blood for our forgiveness.
But more than that; in eating and drinking that together he brings
us into a holy communion, gives us a unity in him that we could never
achieve ourselves with our shallow friendliness. Again, to that church in Corinth, Paul wrote, “Because there is one bread, we who are many, are one body, for we all
partake of the one bread” (10:17).
And so when we’re
at the rail and we lift up our heads and take a peak at the faces there
with us, we can actually see a little of what God has in mind for his people,
a family before him, men and women who belong to one another because they
belong first to God, brothers and sisters all, because he is our Father.
I learned recently
there is an old Swedish custom to have a slightly curved altar rail. We are invited to imagine it continuing
out of sight (behind the wall) to form a complete circle around the
altar. It signifies that when we
receive his body and blood, we are one, not just one with each other, but also
with the saints in heaven who are kneeling in praise of God. Remember the words of the liturgy? “Therefore with angels and archangels and
all the company of heaven we
laud and magnify Your glorious name.”
We are better
together. That was God’s plan for us
from the beginning. So he makes it a
hidden reality through his Supper, cleanses us of our wickedness, and
uniting us together in him. That
unity is a gift. For the sake of the
Gospel of Jesus Christ, it’s a gift worth protecting, for we are better
together. Amen.
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