Build up the church in love

21/28 October                    1 Corinthians 14

This sermon begins with reading a couple of verses from the chapter in a language that I am able to read, but that I know isn't spoken by anyone present in the room - in this case, Welsh.

Did that edify you? Did you feel better for hearing those words that you didn’t understand? It made me feel good! Well, actually, it didn’t, because I wasn’t communicating with you. The words were meaningful, and as it happens I know exactly what I said, which is not the case when I normally speak in tongues – I wasn’t using the gift of tongues then, I was teasing you, speaking Welsh. And it wasn’t good for you or for me, and would only have been good had there been a Welsh speaker here to understand the words.

The reason I did it was, of course, to underline Paul’s point about speaking in tongues. Using that gift in private, to grow closer to God, is really wonderful, and I can strongly commend it to you. But in public it is no more helpful than those words of Welsh were, unless there is a way to translate it. My speaking it in this way is basically selfish. And that’s not how the gifts that the Holy Spirit gives us are to be used. Whatever gifts we have, they are of proper value when they build up the whole church. That’s not to say we should only use our gifts for the whole church – we must work at growing closer to God as individual disciples in prayer, Bible knowledge and in the way we live. But in church we must use our gifts to build up the whole church.

Paul tells us that this works by starting with the rule of life that underlies all Christian life. He calls this rule the ‘way of love’ and describes it in chapter 13.4-7: Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. (1 Corinthians 13.4-7 NRSV). This is the way of life that each of us should strive for. In chapter 14.1 Paul writes: ‘Follow the way of love and eagerly desire spiritual gifts, especially the gift of prophecy’.

This way of life is a privileged one, but it is not a reserved one. Some people think that only those of us who are ordained need to live this way, or to have spiritual gifts, and especially to have the gift of prophecy. But Paul wasn’t writing to a group of clergy. He was writing to a whole church. All Christians, he suggests, should live according to the rule of love, and ask God to give them spiritual gifts, whether of teaching, hospitality, tongues, apostleship, healing, wise discernment – or prophecy. The point of prophecy, he reminds us, is that it builds up the church. Used properly, prophecy speaks into the present moment, speaking God’s word into what is happening right here, right now. Prophecy can bring comfort and encouragement. It strengthens and affirms. Sometimes it challenges and disturbs too, and seeks to change the status quo, but only ever for the building up of the church.

Being a prophetic voice is not easy. People don’t like prophets when they challenge or disturb. If a prophetic voice seeks to change the way that things have always been done it must of course be tested. But so often across time prophets have been shouted down or shouted at for speaking uncomfortable truths. We take some of those truths for granted now: that we should read the Bible in our own language, for example, that we should update our liturgies, or that the priest should not turn his back on the congregation – or that the priest might be turning her back. Or more locally, it can’t have been pleasant to be the person who first said ‘we’ll have to close the church in Horton’, for example. Perhaps that’s why so many people shy away from asking God for the gift, or look to the clergy to be the ones who exercise it. The clergy are so much easier to blame. But its not what Paul said. All of us are to ask for the gifts and to use them out of the basis of the way of love. Lovingly building up the church.

It’s challenging, especially when community demands clash with the needs of the church. We have to measure our actions against scripture, look at what Jesus taught and ask ourselves how community demands and the good of the church come together. Sometimes they don’t. Paul tells us that we have to think like adults in this, while acting like children when it comes to evil – in other words, to learn and apply our learning when it comes to the way of love, and to stay well away from learning about evil. Unless it is part of our working lives – as police officers or social workers, we should keep away from it. And thus we must pray extra hard for Christians who do have to deal with evil as part of their work. Jesus tells us to be ‘wise as serpents and innocent as doves’ (Matt. 10.16). In the affairs of the church, we must exercise adult wisdom. Millennials sometimes talk about ‘adulting’. Intentionally being responsible, thinking about it properly. Adulting should be loving and unselfish, looking to build up ourselves and others, not to indulge ourselves at the expense of others. So let’s do adulting when it comes to living in love and using the gifts that God gives us to make our church stronger and more encouraging. Let’s do adulting when we try to be men and women of prayer and of scriptural confidence. Let’s do adulting when supporting each other and seeking what is best for the church. Let’s do adulting when we look at the Bible to see what God actually wants us to do for the community around us, and then use our spiritual gifts – most especially the gift of love – there too.

Stronger than a city wall

7/14 October                    1 Corinthians 13

I wonder what St Paul would think if he knew that the main occasion for listening to and preaching on his great hymn to love was at weddings. Perhaps he’d be happy, but I suspect that he’d be concerned at taking the passage out of context. Standing alone and treated as a reflection on the love between two people, however lovely the chapter is, it misses the point. In the letter, chapters 12 to 14 are one argument. Paul is writing about the use of spiritual gifts in the Corinthian church. He’d been told that the some people were using spiritual gifts to make themselves look and feel powerful or important within the church, and in particular the gift of tongues was being seen as a sign of superior faith, and effectively excluding others from worship and a sense of belonging. Spiritual gifts, Paul wrote are given to build up the whole church. We are given them not for our own benefit but for service to others. And the greatest gift of all is the one that enables all the other gifts to be used in service. Love.

If you love, and you use your gifts in the spirit of love, then your gifts, whatever they are, will help others and make an impact. But if your starting point is not love, then any other gift is a waste of time. Prophetic words become background noise, the gift of tongues an annoying jangle, because the gifts are not benefiting others if they are not used out of a base of love.

To make sure that the Corinthians understood the point, Paul set out a description of what love is like. Now, since we have one overused word for love in English, and Paul had a choice of words in Greek, we should understand that the great gift underlying all things is αγαπε (agape). This is a strong word. It doesn’t describe romantic love or the relationship between two people (that is ερως – a word that does not appear in the Bible), although of course two people might have a relationship defined by αγαπε. The Greek concept of αγαπε is of a powerful unconditional love, and refers to the love that God has for humanity. It would be the closest word Paul could find to parallel the Hebrew concept of אַהֲבָה  ‘Ahava’ comes from the Hebrew verb ‘hav’ – to give. It demonstrates the character of a love which is about giving, not receiving. It is not a passive love. Ahava requires action, making a choice to behave towards others in a generous way. When Jesus said: ‘By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another’ (John 13.35 NIV), he didn’t mean that the disciples felt nice about each other, but that they actively worked for each other’s wellbeing, seeking good for each other, serving each other– using their God-given gifts for each other’s benefit. This is ahava and it is what Paul looks for as he uses the nearest Greek equivalent. We’ll see the point again in the verse that almost sums up the whole letter, 1 Corinthians 16.14: ‘Let all that you do be done in love’ (NRSV).

Paul knew that it wasn’t enough to tell the Corinthians to love. He spelled out what love looks like, and what their behaviour towards each other should therefore look like: Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. (1 Corinthians 13.4-7 NRSV) So the question we ask ourselves is, does this describe us? Could we replace the word αγαπε (love) with the name of our church community, and see a true description of who we are and how we behave towards one another?

The real challenge is when we look to the source of all love, to God, to see what love looks like in action. We see God’s love in action through Jesus Christ. Which means that as we look at Christ’s example we learn that love is the wisdom of the cross. ‘We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another’ (1 John 3.16 NRSV). Love, according to the wisdom of the cross, gives until it hurts, and then keeps on giving.

That’s a far cry from the behaviour of the Corinthians, showing off their gifts in front of each other, failing to share their food at the Lord’s supper and railing at Paul for pointing out their failings.

Paul calls love an ‘excellent way’ (1 Corinthians 12.31). And it should be exactly that. A way of life. 1 Corinthians 13.4-7 could be taken as a rule of life, a discipline. When we catch ourselves behaving towards others in a way that is outside that rule, we need to stop, and ask the help of the Holy Spirit to live out the gift of love in the generous and courageous way that Paul suggests. Looking at Paul’s description of love and thinking that it would be nice to be like that, or sighing and saying, ‘yes, but I’m not a naturally patient person, so…’ – well that sort of attitude isn’t good enough for Paul, and so it shouldn’t be good enough for any of us.

St John Chrysostom, writing about this chapter, said: ‘Love is stronger than a city wall; it is harder than steel. And even if you should think of some material stronger than these, love’s strength exceeds them all’. That strength of love comes from its source, God, who is love and whose love undergirds all things. If we live by a rule of active, not passive, αγαπε love, then we will be protected by that strength, and we will become sources of strength for others in our own right.

When I preach on this passage at a wedding, I want this kind of giving, active, sacrificial love to be the underlying strength that binds the two people in front of me. Perhaps it is easier to preach that message to them if what they see in the church they are standing in is a building full of people who live out God’s love for one another. A building full of people rich in the gifts of the spirit, and using them to benefit one another, because we are living out Jesus’ command: ‘Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another’ (John 13.34-35 NIV).

This is my body

1 Corinthians 11.17-end

It was a great day for a church picnic. Everyone was bringing their own food, but the PCC had implied that a certain amount of sharing would be encouraged, and the vicar had given Jo and Sam the impression that if they came straight to the picnic after their shift at the warehouse, it wouldn’t matter that they didn’t have time to sort out their own food. ‘Don’t worry’, she said, ‘everyone always brings too much. You just come.’ The picnic ran between 12 and 2, so it seemed fine to arrive as soon as they could after their shift – running for the bus meant they got to the site soon after 12.30. Not too late.

Photo by Christine Siracusa on Unsplash

The vicar seemed distracted when they arrived, getting ready for the communion service. The church members were sitting in groups around the site. Some of the members who came from the big houses at the edge of the area had occupied the picnic tables. They’d brought cloths and had plates and glasses and some very fancy looking dishes of food – a lot posher than any picnic Sam and Jo had ever seen. Other members were sitting around blankets with more ordinary looking food. It was obvious that they’d been eating and drinking for a while and some seemed to have finished already.  

Sam and Jo spotted the picnic organiser with his family at one of the tables and went over to them. ‘You made it then,’ he said to them. ‘We understand from the vicar that you couldn’t bring your own food. Shame. Never mind. There are some cheese sandwiches here.’ And from a bag under the table he pulled out a packet of sandwiches and a bottle of water. As he passed it to Jo, he seemed unembarrassed at his failure to offer any of the wine or lemonade on the table, or of the chicken Caesar salad, quail’s eggs or the delicate individual fruit pavlovas that looked so delicious. Not that there was much of it left.

Sam looked around for somewhere to sit, and found a space some distance from the tables. Soon the vicar was calling them together for communion – the sandwiches would have to wait. She broke the bread, using St Paul’s words about there being one bread and one body, but as Sam and Jo looked around the gathering, it didn’t feel like that to them. The people at the tables had only spoken to them when handing them the sandwiches that were so inferior to their own lunch. It seemed they had nothing in common. ‘But we should’, whispered Jo. ‘Didn’t Jesus die for us too? He didn’t think we were less important than anyone else. So why don’t people talk to us? Why are we over here and not siting at one of those tables? Why aren’t we worth a share in the nice food? Is it just because we can’t afford to put a lot in the collection, or because we’re late – it isn’t our fault that they always start these events while we’re still on shift. If this is the body of Christ, I don’t feel like I’m a part of it’.

What happens next? Do Jo and Sam go and find another church, one where they don’t feel looked down on for being warehouse operatives? Does the vicar spot what is happening and speak out to the wealthy members of the church? Perhaps those wealthy members haven’t realised just how unfair they are being. Perhaps they think preparing a few cheese sandwiches was a great kindness and that they did well – will she put them right? Will she tell them that they are amputating part of the body by behaving so thoughtlessly? Or will she keep quiet, because she’s afraid that these wealthy people have the power to make her life miserable, or even to take her job from her?

I’m not describing a real scenario. Jo and Sam are fictional. But I’ve seen close enough variants a few times in the course of my life to know that what St Paul described in 1 Corinthians 11 is still a threat to the body of Christ now. In those early days of the church, the sharing of bread and wine was becoming symbolic but hadn’t yet been separated from the sharing of a meal. Influenced by the shape of a Passover meal, bread was broken and blessed at the start of a shared meal, and the cup of blessing shared at the end of it. People reminded themselves of all that Jesus had asked them to remember, as part of the sharing in a full meal. But in Corinth the local customs for eating together were leading to divisions within the church. Wealthy hosts would eat in their dining rooms, starting as soon as they were ready. Poorer church members would arrive to find the meal in progress and their food – of a much lower quality – served in the hall. That was not how Paul, Peter and Apollos had taught the Corinthian Christians to behave, and it definitely did not reflect the teaching of Jesus.

As Paul reminded the Corinthians of the story of the Last Supper – and this is the earliest account of it that we have – he was doing it to show them how their behaviour was not a remembrance of Jesus, but rather it was letting him down. Jesus calls his people to be one body, united in love for God and for each other. The bread is the symbol of that body. Jesus, the bread of life, identified his body with bread and asked all who follow to see bread as his body. The bread of life, the body of Christ, both are one. And so, Paul says, when we share that bread, we are not just connecting with Jesus, in receiving something that becomes for us his body. We are connecting with the whole church – because we are the body of Christ. The bread is a symbol and sign of our identity as the church – we are the body of Christ, and so we are the bread of life for the world. Eating that bread is not only a personal spiritual experience. It is a shared experience – the word corporate really comes into its own. Eating the bread binds us as Jesus’ body here on earth, his presence in the world.

And if we believe that, then our behaviour towards each other must be completely respectful, loving and thoughtful. It isn’t acceptable to look down on other Christians. It isn’t acceptable to hand one a cheese sandwich while you eat lobster. Better for everyone to have cheese sandwiches. And to eat them together – not eating first but waiting. In my picnic scenario, the event should have been times to start when Jo and Sam were able to get there. And a proper planned shared meal would have been better too. With tables reserved for those unable to sit on the ground because of bad hips, or dealing with a baby, or old age, even if that meant some people used to a more refined way of living find themselves sitting on the grass. Those who really can’t wait to eat, Paul said – eat at home, because you are making it into a private meal, not a shared meal for Jesus’ followers. There should be no exclusivity, no looking down on people. We are one body and we need to behave as though that matters.

Because it does matter. It matters enough that it was one of the last things that Jesus prayed for, and St Paul and other first generation apostles spoke of it constantly. We are one body. And so let us live thoughtfully, respectfully, lovingly, always putting our fellow Christians needs ahead of our own. Jo and Sam and fictional, but the truth is, there are plenty of people out there who have been made to feel the way that they were. Let’s not be that church. Let’s be the church that Jo and Sam looked for – the one that welcomes, and includes and keeps things equal.

Knowledge puffs up, love builds up

15/22July                    1 Corinthians 6-8

In this fourth sermon in our series on 1 Corinthians, we come to chapters 6,7 and 8. In these chapters, we find Paul referring to letters that he has been sent by members of the Corinthian church, and responding to the issues that they have raised. As he tackles their questions, Paul keeps the heart of his message the same as it has been, and will be throughout the letter: followers of Jesus must try to live in unity. The need for unity is more important than differences between believers. The need for unity is more important than being on the winning side in an argument. The need for unity is more important than whether you believe yourself to be the one who is technically in the right.

Paul, living in Ephesus at the time that he wrote his letter, may well have had opportunities to learn from the apostle John, both in Ephesus and in earlier years in Jerusalem. He may well have heard John’s stories of Jesus’ teaching, many of which would later be put together to form John’s gospel. Paul would have learned from John, and from his own listening to the holy spirit, that unless the followers of Jesus are as one, living in unity and love, then the world will not believe in their message. Jesus prayed (John 17.22) that coming generations of followers would be one, so that the world might believe. But why should the world believe a message of love delivered by a church which demonstrates a lack of love? Why should the world believe in a God of love when we are seen to argue amongst ourselves? When we are heard belittling each other? So often what we demonstrate is that we do not love each other – or at least we don’t act as if we do. When that is what people see, why should they believe in our God of love?

In Corinth, Paul had heard, two believers were at loggerheads with each other, and had taken their case to the public courts. See these Christians, how they sue one another! Paul was troubled that their disagreement was being dealt with so publicly and acrimoniously. They should, he felt, have found wise people within the Christian community to help mediate the problem and find a loving way to sort it out. By going to court, the church – and by association, Jesus himself – was brought into disrepute.

The church – and Jesus – was brought into disrepute too by the behaviour of some members of who told Paul ‘I have the right to do anything’. Paul taught that Jewish law no longer applied, but his teaching was being misused by some church members to justify and ‘anything goes’ attitude that included a horrifying strand of sexual immorality. Paul had to put their thinking straight. The law may no longer apply, but the way of love and unity with God is a way of holiness. As the body of Christ, we must strife to behave like Christ. Or, if you like, what Cranmer described as a ‘godly, righteous and sober life’. Using deliberate shock tactics, Paul returned to his image of the church as Jesus’ body, and that body as a vessel for God’s spirit. So if a church member uses a prostitute, or commits adultery, he was taking Jesus into that liaison with him. It’s a sobering thought. Our bodies should always honour God, and what we do with them matters. What we do with our bodies reflects on God. Sexual relations can be godly and beautiful. Sex is a gift from God. Sex is not shameful, nor is it unholy – so long as it only happens within marriage.

In chapter 7 Paul turned to their questions on marriage. Some of the members were anxious about what sort of relationships were acceptable. We still hear the same concerns from people joining the Christian community now. A young person engaged to a longtime girlfriend or boyfriend, finds faith in Jesus. But their partner is not persuaded. What do they do? Can a follower of Jesus commit to living with a non-believer? Paul responds that commitments already entered into should be honoured. Yes, marry him, he says. Though if you’re not engaged, don’t marry at all – single people can serve God ore effectively. Unless of course, temptation is so strong it will distract you from serving God. Then you must marry.

The important thing is to live out God’s love in a holy way, and to be properly loving and respectful in all of our relationships. This way, we reflect God’s love, and it will be seen and respected by others.

Chapter 8 is a section of the letter addressing questions raised by members about food sacrificed to idols. Members who were wealthy or well connected would regularly be invited to feasts in temples or private homes. Meat served at such feasts would have been dedicated to one of the gods. Leftover meat from temple feasts was sold in the market. So, as a rule, any meat available wold have been from a sacrifice of some sort. Some Christians, Paul included, had no problem with this. The gods weren’t real, Paul did not accept them or join with the worship of them. So when he ate meat he didn’t feel he was joining himself with a god, he was just enjoying his dinner. But not everyone saw it that way. For some people, eating this meat was offensive, or suggestive of double standards. And for some it carried strong memories of their days of joining in with the feasting and other indulgences at the temples, and was both a reminder of a sinful life and a temptation to return to it. Paul called upon Corinthian Christians who shared his ‘strong’ position to be more considerate to ‘weak’ ones who could not in conscience eat this meat. To force them to do so would be unloving. The ‘strong’ Christians who relied on their liberal understanding risked becoming ‘puffed up’, Paul warned. Remember, Paul included himself among this group, and perhaps was reminding himself as much as advising his fellow Christians, that an attitude based on what you ‘know’ to be right can lead to behaviour that is unloving towards others. Knowledge, Paul said, puffs you up, while love builds you up.

So we are not to approach any issue that we disagree on from the point of view of ‘I know best, I know the right answer’. Perhaps you do, but that doesn’t mean that the community is ready to act on what you believe. Instead, prioritise love. Prioritise a loving approach that builds up the people you disagree with and builds up the community as a whole.

Love that builds up undergirds unity. In this case, it meant that for a while at least some people would have to abstain from eating meat in order to support a loving and united community. So be it.

As we look at the issues that divide us today, when does knowledge puff us up, and risk exacerbating division instead of supporting unity? When do we put our desire to be in the right ahead of loving treatment of our fellow Christians? When do we allow division to be more important than unity, rightness to be more important than love?

Let’s examine ourselves carefully. What is our equivalent of meat sacrificed to idols, or of taking our fellow Christians to court? Is it the way we speak of each other in emails? Or on social media? Is it our fallings out over how best to care for our historic buildings? Or whether to pay parish share? In the wider Church of England at the moment we are publicly seen to argue over ordaining women, over inclusion of LGBT people, over how we deal with historic sex abuse cases, over how we invest our money. And the more we argue and rehearse our cases in the public domain, the more we seem to show people that there is no God. And we need to take care over this. I can assure you that the amount of argument reported in the press that apparently happened before and during General Synod very much exceeds what actually happened. If we air disagreements in public, even minor ones, they will be blown out of proportion. But what the world will read in the press will tell them that we are not a loving church. And if we are not loving, how can we persuade them that our God of love is real?

We proclaim that God is love.

We teach that we are the body of Christ.

And thus, as the body of Christ, we are as Christ, and we are love.

Or, as St John put it: ‘God is love, and those who live in love live in God, and God lives in them’ (1 John 4.16).

Paul’s teaching is as vital now as it was when he first wrote it down. We must prioritise unity based on love, even when that means personal soul searching and stepping away from our own personal priorities, away from defending what we feel we are in the right about, in favour of a common loving way.

Because knowledge puffs up, but love builds up (1 Cor 8.2).