Who Do You Belong To?

1 Corinthians 1:10-18

Divisions in the Church

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.