Ordinary 11C — Andy James

a sermon on 1 Corinthians 1:10-18
preached on January 26, 2014, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

As you heard earlier in the announcements, today is the annual meeting of the congregation of the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone. This annual gathering is a wonderful tradition that gives us space to celebrate the life of the church in this place over the last year and to look ahead into the coming year together. While we do approach some serious business in our congregational meetings, this is largely a ceremonial affair. As much as our Presbyterian polity is built on something of a democratic system that trusts that God speaks through the voices of God’s people as we gather together like we do today, there are only five or six things that we are allowed to do in our meeting today. But even more than that, when the groups that are reporting and bringing items for action have done good work of listening for the movement of the Holy Spirit and have made reasonable decisions and present them in constructive and helpful ways, people will ask good questions and then go on to affirm the work that has been done to get us to today without much dissension.

It is very rare—though not entirely unheard-of—to have dissent and division in the annual meeting—unless you were the church in Corinth. The church in Corinth is remembered even after two millennia for its conflict and trouble, and I can’t even begin to imagine what it would have been like to have been in an annual meeting there! Paul’s two letters to the Corinthians were written to a group of people who seem to have been divided over nearly everything: who baptized them, how to sit together for meals, what sorts of sexual behavior were to be accepted, whether to deal with petty conflicts between church members in the church or civil court, how to deal with people of different backgrounds, what sorts of food was acceptable to eat, whether to cover your head when you pray, whether women should be allowed to speak in worship, even what to do with the weekly offering!

Paul knew that things were bad there, and he right up front in his first letter to them he named the issues:

I have a serious concern to bring up with you, my friends, using the authority of Jesus, our Master.
I’ll put it as urgently as I can:
You must get along with each other.
You must learn to be considerate of one another, cultivating a life in common. (The Message)

In this particular instance, different church members were claiming greater authority, power, and privilege based on who had baptized them. While they had originally come together as one church from their different backgrounds, united by the gift of God in the cross of Jesus Christ, they were now focusing on their differences. While they had once understood their life to be shared in common, connected by a common faith and hope, now they were pointing fingers at each other unnecessarily.

This situation isn’t totally surprising. The early church was itself an offshoot sect of Judaism, with no central authority or even structure to give guidance along the way, so individuals would obviously put greater confidence in those who had been instrumental in guiding them into their understanding of faithfulness. But Paul knew that even if this was an important initial step, it would be disastrous for the long term. If early Christians weren’t careful, they would soon divide up this message of hope and salvation, and in their actions of division they would keep others from wanting to be a part of this new way of life.

So Paul turned the Corinthians’ focus back to Christ, the unifying force in their faith and life. Eugene Peterson translates Paul’s words so clearly here:

God didn’t send me out to collect a following for myself,
but to preach the Message of what he has done, collecting a following for him.
And he didn’t send me to do it with a lot of fancy rhetoric of my own,
lest the powerful action at the center—Christ on the Cross—be trivialized into mere words.

The Message that points to Christ on the Cross seems like sheer silliness to those hellbent on destruction,
but for those on the way of salvation it makes perfect sense.
This is the way God works, and most powerfully as it turns out.

Ultimately, Paul wanted the Corinthians to understand that the divisions of the world, the human distinctions that emerge in our lives, and even the confusion that emerges in our life together cannot overwhelm the message of the cross.

Now this message of the cross would seem to be the last thing to focus on, really. The standards of the world would never place the cross, a symbol of death, at the center of thinking about new life. The thought that such a powerful God would be so humble as to die a human death was crazy in that day and age. And all the other good messages of that time were presented with flowery words and careful arguments that seemed far greater than the simple proclamation of Jesus through the cross. Yet Paul was convinced that this message was at the center of everything the church ought to stand for. This message was worthy of setting aside all conflict and division—in fact, this message was the only way that the church could come together amidst all divisions.

In our day and age, when so much of our world is more polarized than ever, when even the church keeps fracturing further because of disagreement on things that are pretty small in the big picture, when we need a witness to unity and hope more than ever, Paul’s urgent request echoes across the centuries: “You must get along with each other. You must learn to be considerate of one another, cultivating a life in common.” This isn’t something we can just will into existence in our midst by pretending like conflict doesn’t exist. If we just set aside our disagreement and paper over our dissent, we don’t actually become “united in the same mind and the same purpose” as Paul so desired.

So as we approach an annual meeting this afternoon that seems to be pretty routine in a congregation where we usually all get along pretty well, it was interesting for me to spend this past week at a workshop on mediation and conflict transformation. Even if we don’t always express a lot of dissent in our annual meetings, conflict and disagreement is a natural and good part of the life of the church and our world. Believe it or not, we actually communicate better with each other when there is some healthy disagreement—so long as it doesn’t get out of hand and we keep talking to one another! Yet in these days our world suggests that we should have as little as possible to do with those we disagree with, so we in the church can offer a gift to others if we can simply keep talking with one another and loving each other even when we disagree.

I was reminded this week that we are at our best when we are hard on the issues and soft on people, when we take the things we believe and do just as seriously as we take our relationships with one another. I think this is what Paul was really hoping for, too. He was looking for the church at Corinth to recognize that they needed to keep their focus on the most important issue at hand—on the proclamation of the wonderful and strange message about the cross—and so to work through their quarreling and disagreement while living together in faith, hope, and love as best they could.

So what would this look like in our life together? Does this mean that we need to have a big verbal argument at the annual meeting today so that we can be focused on the cross—and kick out anyone in our midst who isn’t as focused as I am? Does this mean that we should just let anyone among us do anything they want, without worry or consequence for its impact on others? Or does this mean that we need to spend a little more time listening to one another as we try to discern how God is leading us in these changing times? I think that third option is the better way, for we are bound together in the cross of Christ and given the hope and possibility of a new and different way, not just in setting aside our differences but in welcoming the opportunity to learn more about the gifts of God in our lives and in discerning how we can be more faithful together in this changing world.

So as we do this important work later today and in the year ahead, may our foundation be Jesus Christ our Lord, may the cross be our hope of the power of God, and may all our conversation—and even any disagreement—reflect the joyous gift of God that brings us new life for all the days ahead. Thanks be to God! Amen.

a sermon on Luke 7:36-8:3 for the 11th Sunday in Ordinary Time
preached on June 16, 2013, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

Jesus had a bit of a reputation. He had started out as just another teacher wandering around Galilee to offer an interpretation of the scriptures, following in the footsteps of his cousin John the Baptist and proclaiming a new way of life for the people of Israel, but he had quickly moved on to start healing people from seemingly incurable illness and had even revived a man whom everyone else thought was dead.

As his reputation grew, one of the religious leaders decided to invite him over for dinner—even they had to take notice of him. As this Pharisee, a man named Simon, saw it, he was doing Jesus a favor, giving him a nice meal in a nice house, surrounding him with the right kind of people, offering him the audience he needed to get his words into the right ears. Of course, it didn’t hurt Simon to be seen with Jesus, either—the people had warmed to Jesus’ message and clamored for him to come into their villages to tell a parable or heal the sick, so anyone who could be seen as offering him hospitality would get an extra benefit! But when Jesus arrived at Simon’s house, he was ushered right into the dining room to sit down for dinner, almost as if the host was as anxious to have Jesus leave as he seemed to have him come. His reputation preceded him, after all.

As they settled in for dinner, an unexpected guest wandered into the house. Like Jesus, she had a bit of a reputation, too, but hers was very clear. Everyone in town knew that she was a sinner, though Luke does not tell us exactly what sin she was known for. As dinner went on, she made her way to the table where Jesus was and began to weep as she stood behind him. She collected her tears and began to wash his feet, then she dried them with her hair and anointed them with the ointment that she had brought along with her.

It was a scandalous moment. The most notorious woman in town, known as a sinner to seemingly everyone, was washing the feet of this special guest who claimed to be a teacher and a prophet. Simon the Pharisee and host was astounded, although he did not utter a word. Still, he was not happy that his house would be scandalized in this way, and he just wanted Jesus to see her for what she was, condemn her, and send her away.

But Jesus’ reputation was also very clear—he was just the kind of guy who would eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners. He could tell that his host did not want this sinner-woman crashing his party, but he would not be the one to send her away. So rather than confronting or engaging, Jesus asked his host the Pharisee about forgiving debts. If two men had both had their debts forgiven but one had debt ten times larger than the other, would both men show equal love for this generous act? Simon responded that the larger debt would inspire greater love, but then Jesus pointed out that this woman was just like that man. While Simon had offered Jesus nothing more than an invitation to dinner, this woman had made him feel welcome, washing his feet and showing him true hospitality. She was truly thankful for what Jesus was and offered him a deep and wondrous gift.

So Jesus lifted up this sinner-woman as a model of faithfulness to this pious religious-man, for she had shown Jesus great love and welcome in someone else’s house simply because he offered her a place to find the fullness of new life. Her sins were forgiven, and Jesus sent her on her way: “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.” She had a new reputation now.

Christians these days don’t have such a good reputation in dealing with those named as “sinners”—if anything, we usually are the ones calling the names, not the ones extending grace. In the world’s eyes, at least, we seem to be much more like Simon the Pharisee than Jesus: singling out groups for special hatred or lower status because of their gender, sexuality, life circumstance, or religious persuasion; complaining about our mistreatment as Christians mostly because we aren’t as dominant in society anymore or those of other faiths demand the treatment once reserved for us; claiming that God’s favor is upon us and us alone, to the exclusion of those who are different; and struggling to extend the grace that we have known to anyone other than ourselves. We seem to be far more about controlling our religion than about following Jesus.

But Jesus’ dinner at Simon’s house tells us that we should have a different kind of reputation—a reputation of welcome, generosity, and grace. As commentator Justo González puts it,

Even though Jesus is a religious teacher, his teaching is not about religion. It is not about how to be more religious. It is not about how to gain God’s acceptance. It is about a God whose acceptance of sinners the religious find jarring. It is about a God whose love cannot be bought even by great acts of praise or mighty deeds of justice. It is about sinners who rejoice at the great forgiveness they have received, [as opposed to] religious people who wish God were more religious [like them]—more amenable to being mollified by acts of worship, piety, and devotion… [Ultimately,] the sinful woman is able to receive and accept grace in a way that the religious Pharisee cannot. (Luke, p. 102)

So in this encounter with the woman, Jesus insists that our reputation needs to be different, that our life in the world must be marked with the amazing grace that we ourselves have come to know and love, that our actions toward others must demonstrate the same kind of welcome that Jesus himself offered to this woman and everyone he met, and that our generosity must be not about holding on to what we have or even perpetuating a faithful way of the past but rather about using our gifts to extend God’s welcome to anyone and everyone.This is ultimately our greatest call as people of faith: to show God’s love to those who seem all but unlovable, to extend God’s welcome even to those we would rather keep away, and to embody God’s priceless grace in a world where the focus is all too often on counting the cost. We should have a reputation for these things, for faith, hope, and love beyond measure, without cost, shared with anyone and everyone, a reputation for being like Jesus.

We don’t build this reputation by joining the church, putting a little extra in the offering plate, or even being honored or remembered in a gift made by others. Instead, this kind of reputation comes as we follow Jesus in our individual lives and in our common life. We can go with him to proclaim and bring the good news of the kingdom of God to people who are used to hearing nothing but bad news. We can tell others what we have seen, what we have heard, and what we have experienced as we have walked with Jesus along the way in hopes that they might join us on the journey too. We can offer strange and surprising acts of hospitality to those who come into our midst as this unnamed woman did with Jesus, setting aside our fears and trusting that God is somehow working among us beyond our understanding. And we can provide for the needs of this community and the whole witness of the household of God just as these faithful folks, named and unnamed here, did with Jesus. In these and countless other ways we can embody Jesus’ welcome of all people, show God’s love for all creation, and receive and pass on God’s amazing grace in the world.

So may we get a reputation of mercy, grace, and love because we offer God’s deep welcome to anyone and everyone in our life together, because we show our deepest care and concern for others, and because we join in God’s transformation of our world begun for all in Jesus Christ our Lord. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Agreeing to Agree

Reputation