Sermon.
St Vedast-alias-Foster, City of London
Epiphany
2 (Year A)
How are you? Here's a
piece of advice you can pass on to your new priest for free: it is
almost always good to ask people how they are, and if you can ask it,
and
really care (you
know: listen for the answer),
you are a large
part of the way there to being a pastor.
That
also applies to you directly of course, as you continue to minister
to one another, and to those who stumble into this church for
whatever reason, and indeed as you will minister to your minister.
For the idea that the priest dispenses spiritual goods to their
flock, who simply receive, is, as well we
know, nonsense. You will be pastors to him, and that is as it is
meant to be (we are meant to need each other). So never fear to ask
him and one another: How are you?
Here
is a related question: How would you be, if you were a Corinthian?
Let me focus in: How would you be, if you were a member of the
emergent church at Corinth in the first century, and the person in
front of you was – not me, and not Paul for that matter, but –
the person charged with proclaiming to you what Paul had written to
all of you, about all of you? How, then, would you feel?
I
think you would feel... 'good' (as we now
say). Or 'in a good place'. I think you
would feel encouraged. You would hear Paul
giving thanks to Gd for you, and the grace in you. Here –
I'll remind you - Paul is improving -
or subverting - the secular Greek
letter-writing convention. The convention was to greet the readers
with chairein (greetings),
and go on to praise them. Paul praises Gd, and offers
and speaks of charis
(grace), a similar, related
word, but with
more theological heft. So,
as hearers of this letter from Paul – and a letter from Paul is
probably a new thing in your church life – a Fresh Expression, we
might say – you feel 'in a good place' and encouraged.
Except
it is not that simple. We have to dig a little deeper. Yes, Paul is
gracious and at heart affirming. There is something of an inclusio
in the
passage we have; Paul ends as he begins. So Paul begins by saying
that you Corinthias are sanctified and called to be saints. You have
been made saintly, and will be saintly. Except that the words 'to be'
in 'called to be saints' are absent in the Greek... which makes it
even better. It means we can say that you Corinthias are called, here
and now, already,
as
saints, as holy ones. And that's all of you, as a collectivity (Paul
nowhere calls an individual 'a saint' by
the way).
And Paul concludes by saying that Christ will strengthen you (this
time it is the future tense) to the end, so that you will be
blameless, because you have already been called into fellowship with
him.
Good
news all round! Your
salvation is secure. You belong to Christ and Christ's
Church. You are valued and of value.
But...
but we still need to look at precisely what Paul gives thanks for, in
you. It is three things:
- your speech or your words (logos);
- your knowledge (gnosis);
- your spiritual gifts, or your giftedness (charismata).
Now,
all of these things seem to be very good things indeed. We want them.
A church community is the richer for them.
But...
(and I am now coming to the problem)... precisely these things –
- ideas about our own speech,
- our own knowledge
- and our own possession of spiritual gifts –
these
are what Paul has hard and harsh words to say about, throughout his
letter. He never or rather
seldom says
they are bad things. He does say that they can be – and for the
Corinthians, they are – the right things in the wrong place.
Right-and-wrong
attitudes to knowledge Paul discusses in chapter eight,
for example. This begins: 'Now
concerning food sacrificed to idols: we know that "all of us
possess knowledge." Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up.'
Paul goes on to tread a very fine line over what was evidently a
painful and controversial matter in the Corinthian community (strange
though it may seem to us),
about
whether
and when Christians may eat meat which may have been involved in some
pagan ceremony.
And
he rules out 'knowledge' as an arbiter, or at least knowledge
claiming to know more than love knows. He
even
goes
on to say that knowledge can destroy your fellow Christians.
And
for Paul's questioning or undermining of all three (speech, knoweldge
and gifts)
we can turn to an old friend – I mean 1 Corinthians 13. That hymn
to love begins in a very particular way. We
may miss
it, as we lose ourselves in the poetry and think, quite wrongly, of
romantic love. But
this is how St Paul actually begins chapter thirteen: 'If
I speak
in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a
noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And
if I have prophetic powers [gifts],
and understand all mysteries and all knowledge,
and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have
love, I am nothing [outhen
eimi - 1Co 13:1-2 NRSV]'
There
it is, Paul at his bluntest: right speech, right giftedness and right
knowledge without love are nothing.
These
are but the two most obvious examples. Paul
has a lot to criticise – to express alarm about – in the
Corinthians' behaviour. It actually begins in the very next verses
after today's apparently affirming passage. Paul goes straight on to
say: 'Now I appeal to you... that there be no divisions among you...
For it has been reported to me... that there are quarrels among you.'
[1Co 1:10-11 NRS] Thus
Paul, for all his wordiness at times, can be summed up as simply
this: 'Corinthians, for
all your speech, knowledge and giftedness, you are a divided and
quarrelsome bunch, and you need to begin to learn to love.'
Now,
brothers and sisters, I want to be crystal clear that I am not saying
that about you. I am not. (I am taking a risk in preaching as I do,
lest I be heard as speaking of you. I simply am not. And
I certainly did not know your PCC meeting followed and I make no
reference at all to the matters connected thereto. No.)
I am also not saying that you will need to decipher your new preacher
in the way that I have tried to decipher Paul. Again,
no. Let him speak with clarity and candour,
always.
But
I am saying that the absence from today's epistle is powerful, is
moving, and can speak to us all. What is
absent is love. Paul sees no love (or no
love loving enough to be worthy of comment) in the Corinthians. Can
we not see this as bitter medicine?
I mean: who would
like the eulogy at their funeral to be solely about how articulate,
clever and gifted they were? So, do
we not imagine that the Corinthians also – not of
course the first time they heard this
epistle, but the second or subsequent times
– would themselves feel the absence of the reference to love, and
be pained?
It
is said that the last words of St John the Evangelist were 'little
children, love one another'. And today I take a leaf out of his book.
And
another from the book of
Rabbi Lionel Blue of Blessed and Righteous Memory. (You
knew there'd be a Jewish reference; I did not want to disappoint
you.) He said that his mother at one point,
prior to his being ordained a rabbi, said something
like: 'Lionel, all this religion – will
it make you a kinder
person?' He took this as a serious, indeed a religious question.
And our own Rowan Williams has said this, in that august theological periodical, the Evening Standard: 'At the very basic level, religion is uncompromisingly committed to not ignoring people. My faith is one which tells me everybody is worth whatever time, attention and love you can possibly give.' (1)
And our own Rowan Williams has said this, in that august theological periodical, the Evening Standard: 'At the very basic level, religion is uncompromisingly committed to not ignoring people. My faith is one which tells me everybody is worth whatever time, attention and love you can possibly give.' (1)
This
can come in many forms. It is not niceness
or politeness; it emphatically is not about refusing to rock the
boat. It can come from a fierce prophet like Isaiah, or an even
fiercer more-than-a-prophet, like
John the Baptist - kindness
in the form of passionate truth-telling; tough love. Call
it love, call it kindness, call it serious and committed and
costly attention
to the other as the other is – it is what we are about, always
and everywhere, regardless of circumstance.
It's who we are. It is how we are.
Amen.
(1) http://rowanwilliams.archbishopofcanterbury.org/articles.php/2530/evening-standard-interview-with-archbishop-rowan-williams
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