Who Do You Belong To?
1 Corinthians 1:10-18
Now
I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you
should be in agreement and that there should be no divisions among you, but
that you should be united in the same mind and the same purpose. For it has been reported to me by
Chloe’s people that there are quarrels among you, my brothers and sisters. What I mean is that each of you says, ‘I
belong to Paul’, or ‘I belong to Apollos’, or ‘I belong to Cephas’, or ‘I
belong to Christ.’
Has
Christ been divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the
name of Paul? I thank God that I baptized none of you except
Crispus and Gaius, so that no one can say that you were baptized in my name. (I
did baptize also the household of Stephanas; beyond that, I do not know whether
I baptized anyone else.) For
Christ did not send me to baptize but to proclaim the gospel, and not with
eloquent wisdom, so that the cross of Christ might not be emptied of its power.
For
the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to
us who
are being saved it is the power of God.
Over
Christmas, my Aunt Janice gave me a treasure. A book with hundreds of pictures
and stories illuminating the lives of the dad she barely knew, my granddad
Clivie, who was killed when she and my mom were very young, and my grandmother
Hester. As well as their parents and
siblings, children and grandchildren. The
book is full of pictures and stories that Jeanne calls a big ol’ bunch of red-neckery.
And that’s pretty true. My
granddad Clivie was the oldest of 10 kids.
My grandmother Hester was the youngest of 14. My mom has more than 100 first cousins! And in the book there are many pictures taken
at Kelley and Coffman family reunions. . . .
I grew up going to these reunions every summer. And it never failed—every year—as all us kids
would be running around—some adult I might or might not recognize would stop me
and ask, “Who do you belong to?”
Who do
you belong to?
“Marlene”
Oh,
Marlene. Hester’s girl. Oh, I can definitely see it now.
And this is the same question Paul is
asking the members of the church in Corinth.
Who do you belong to? There
seemed to be some confusion about this.
Even though size-wise, the early church in Corinth was about our
size—numbering in the dozens, rather than hundreds—they seemed to be adept at
finding ways to divide themselves. They were
experiencing an identity crisis. Just who are they going to emulate? Whose
leadership style and message are they going to model themselves after? What worship practices will they follow? What kinds of ethics will they practice? What kinds of people—from what social and
economic classes—with what level of education and knowledge—will they
welcome? What spiritual gifts will be
approved and valued? Just how will this
group be recognized, identified, and known?
And Paul writes his first letter to the Corinthians to address these
conflicts.
He tells the church, “There should be no divisions among you. . . . You should be united
in the same mind and the same purpose.”
Now, in a lot of ways, Paul sounds like your run-of-the-mill,
conflict-avoidant evangelist who just wants to make sure his fledgling church
gets off the ground. Just keep the
peace. . . . But I think he might have a
deeper concern here. All of the
Corinthians’ singular points of contention—worship practices, leadership
styles, spiritual gifts—while potentially significant—also point to a deeper
underlying problem: the Corinthians don’t seem understand
the radical nature of the cross of Christ. And some of us may struggle with this, too.
·
What is the message of the cross?
·
What is its power?
·
And what does the cross have to do
with “being saved?”
These questions are important for any of us
who claim the identity of Christian
to wrestle with. And obviously for Paul,
these questions are absolutely central to the identity of the church. He says, “The
message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of
God.” I love that the translation
puts it “us who are being saved”
because it implies—like I think is absolutely true—our existence and our
salvation is all in process. It is never over and done with.
But what does he mean here? What is it that the Corinthians are
missing? What is foolishness to those who are perishing? What is the radical nature of the cross of
Christ?
And it’s really pretty simple: the cross of Christ embodies a love and way
of being and relating in the world that defies conventional understandings of
power and worth and defies the finality of death. People who do not understand that selfless love
or way of relating with one another probably think it is foolishness. It overturns expected ways of valuing and
relating to one another, and it affirms the genuine worth of each person based on the generosity and abundance of
God’s grace. Radical, huh?!
It’s not rating women on their appearance. It’s not judging someone’s worth by how much
money they make. It’s not conflating
might—or a big mouth—with what’s right or just or true.
Later in this letter and in other letters,
Paul reaffirms again and again this central part of the Christian identity: We are neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free,
male nor female. We are one in Christ
Jesus. And we are called to a love that
is greater than hate. We are called to
value each and every person we meet, regardless of their “worth” by the world’s
standards. It may seem like folly or
weakness to arm ourselves with love and kindness and peace when we face an army
of hatred and greed and the tools of dominance.
But that, my friends, is the cross of Christ—foolishness to those who are perishing but to us who are being saved it
is the power of God.
This is the Christ we belong to. This is the saving power we claim. It is the power to love. To share.
To welcome. To include. To help.
To see. It is not power for my
own benefit. It is not power that sets
me apart or above anyone else. . . . It is
power ONLY in and for relationship with others.
So, don’t talk to me about the power of the
cross or “being saved” unless you’re going to talk to me about ending racism. .
. . Because
they have to go together.
Don’t talk to me about the power of the
cross or “being saved”—it doesn’t mean a
thing—unless you’re going to talk to me about ending misogyny and
homophobia….
Don’t talk to me about “being saved” unless
you’re going to talk to me about ending economic injustice. . . .
Don’t talk to me about “being saved” unless
you’re going to talk to me about universal access to health care and adequate
education for girls and boys all over the world. . . .
Don’t talk to me about “being saved” unless
you’re going to talk to me about sustainable forms of energy, protecting our
world’s wilderness areas, free access to clean water, and ending climate
change. . . .
Don’t talk to me about “being saved” unless
you’re going to talk to me about ending homelessness and domestic violence and
warfare the world over. . . .
Don’t talk to me about “being saved” unless
you’re serious about that love that has the capacity to turn the world upside
down . . . that defies selfish notions of power.
And if you are serious, I won’t even have
to ask you. No one will have to ask, “Who do you belong to?” Because it will be so clear. . . .
Oh, yes.
Jesus the Christ. I can
definitely see it now.
Let it be so. Amen.