A Love Letter Revisited

A Love Letter Revisited

(Text: I Corinthians 1:10-18)

(Gary W. Charles at Cove Presbyterian Church on 1-22-2017)

          I give you Sarah’s story.

In the car after church, Sarah would cup her hands over her ears. She did not understand everything her parents were saying, but she knew enough to understand angry words. Despite her best efforts not to listen, she would still hear pieces of the post-worship analysis: “Can you believe what he said today? How can he stand in the pulpit and say such things?” “Did you see what Meredith was wearing? Someone needs to buy that woman a mirror.” “When will ever sing a familiar hymn?” “What were people thinking when they elected Eddie an elder?” 

          Sometimes Sarah’s mom or dad had a meeting after worship and while waiting, she would try to help the ushers, but she was shooed away – being told that she was too young to help. As Sarah moved into her teens, she managed to find other rides home, but sadly, she heard other unsatisfied voices in these cars as well, voices full of disgust and anger. Some of them said the church had never been the same since the last pastor left. Some fussed about how the church was always asking for money. Others objected at how often the church meddled in politics. Some chided the church for being too cold and anonymous and only open to the in-crowd.

          Sarah did not attend church while in college. That was alright though because she had heard that most students stray from the church during their college years. When she came home on break she usually slept in on Sunday.  She graduated and went to work in a city far from home. Later, she married in a lovely backyard service. In time, Sarah and her husband had three children. Now, neither Sarah nor her husband nor her children go to church.

          As I read Paul’s first letter to the church in Corinth, I find myself wondering what Jesus expects from us, his church in 2017. The Apostle Paul writes his friends in Corinth because he has heard unsettling reports of their church life. His friend, Chloe, has shared that in Corinth love is torn and church is deeply divided. We do not know the precise reasons for the divisions, but we do know that they are not minor disputes about where the flowers should be placed in the sanctuary. The disputes are emotional and contentious, disputes of the heart where members have lined up and taken sides.

          In some ways, it does not matter if we ever know the sordid details of the divisive, angry situation in Corinth that led Paul to write this congregation. We do not need to know, for most of us have suffered through such some divisive, angry church conflict, whether at Cove or elsewhere in our church past. Words are spoken that should never have been spoken. Threats are made. If things do not go a certain way – if the church does not get rid of the pastor or the musician or the educator, people leave or stop giving. When love is torn in the church, people loose their humor and every word has a barb to it, intended to do harm.  

When conflict reigns in the church, people find themselves in their own silos, feeling that the weight of the church rests on their shoulders. Secrets are kept lest another group or person twist their words. Anxiety flies around the church lighting on any unsuspecting victim. Judgment gets clouded and any search for truth hardens into having to believe a certain way to be a true member.

            At first glance, Paul’s recipe for reconciliation in Corinth sounds a tad trite, “Now I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you be in agreement and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same purpose” (I Cor. 1:10). This plea sounds a bit like the cry of a defeated parent asking her two children who are yelling at the top of their lungs at each other in the backseat of the car, “Now, now, children, lower your voices and be sweet. After all, you are brother and sister.”

          Listen carefully to Paul once more. “I appeal to you . . . by the name of Jesus Christ . . . that you be united in the same mind and purpose.” Paul does not ask the Corinthians to stop their bickering because it is what enlightened, civilized, grown-up people do. Paul’s logic never suffers such false optimism about human behavior. Nor does Paul ask the Corinthians to stop fighting out of sheer human decency because of the damage it is causing the church. Paul well knew that zealots never think themselves wrong and when damage is done, it is always the other group or person at fault. Paul writes at least two long letters to Corinth because he fears for the future of the church there.

          Now, if the situation in Corinth was serious, the situation facing the church in America today is absolutely dire, not so much for any one particular church but for the whole church of Jesus Christ. Theologian William Stacy Johnson writes, “We have failed to make the faith persuasive for our young people.  We are perishing and find ourselves struggling to devise ways to survive. For this reason it is all the more illogical that we spend our ecclesial energies on quarrels between liberals and conservatives, between advocates of gays and lesbians and their opponents, between those who look to scripture and those who look to experience - between Paul and Apollos, Cephas and Christ.”

          What then does Paul say to a church badly divided then or in 2017? For sixteen chapters Paul points to the love of the crucified Christ. The love of Christ, says Paul, binds together different people with different attitudes with different work styles with different backgrounds with different tastes with different political viewpoints. The love of Christ, says Paul, has as much to do with how we live with other people as it does with how we feel about God. 

          As a child, I often heard and said, “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me.” What a devastating lie. Words matter and nowhere do they matter more than in the body of Christ. The love of Christ does not ask us to agree with each other about doctrine or worship or what color to paint the sanctuary, but the love of Christ does demand that we respect each other, cherishing even those with whom we could not differ more. The love of Christ simply allows no excuse for cutting remarks and stinging sarcasm and unapologetic arrogance toward those we feel less enlightened than ourselves.

Paul knew that words could do more lasting damage than any stick or stone, wounding not just an individual but an entire church, an entire society. I pray that our new President will quickly learn this truth in his public rhetoric and on Twitter even as I pray for those who oppose him and his policies the most vociferously. For words matter and love demands respect.  

          Paul knew personally the corrosive power carried by some words, but he also knew the healing power of many words, most especially, the forgiving, reconciling, and empowering word of Christ from the cross. His is the word by which you and I are judged, redeemed, inspired, and humbled. His is the word that needs to stick in our throat whenever we are tempted to devalue another member, deride a pastor, castigate an elder, criticize the choir, or demean a child. His is the word of love that simply will not allow us finally to demonize or dismiss each other no matter how strong our differences, how firmly held our convictions. 

          Father Walter Burghardt asks his Catholic congregation a series of questions that beg for an answer from any Christian community: “Can we differ without disliking? Can we contradict without condemning? Can we debate without hating?” Then in a wonderful flourish, he answers himself, “We had better-for our salvation’s sake. You know, I spend most of my waking day playing theological detective, trying to unravel the mystery of God-with-us. But when I stand before the judgment seat of God, the judge who died for me will not ask me:  did you solve the mystery? He [God] will simply ask: did you love me above all else? And did you love your brothers and sisters as if they were your own self?” (Is Christ Divided? A sermon preached in his book, Grace on Crutches).

          So, let me suggest another version of Sarah’s story. As a child Sarah often wandered about in the sanctuary after services collecting leftover bulletins and occasional dimes and pennies left underneath the pew cushions. The other adult ushers always had a good word for Sarah and gave her a job that made her feel important, not patronized. After greeting the members, Sarah’s pastor would stroll through the sanctuary and her father and the pastor would frequently raise their voices and Sarah would cower at first, but she soon learned that their loud words were not hateful or hurtful words. In fact, after the sanctuary debate, she and her dad would often walk to lunch with the pastor and her family.

          At home, Sarah learned that personal differences and preferences did not give her permission to treat people differently or harshly. At church, she learned that people had lots of ideas about how best to worship God, about how to spend money, and what youth should or should not do in the church, yet still, they refused to let their differences divide them. At college, Sarah went to church more often than her classmates and when she came home, she always came to worship because she knew how much she was missed and loved.

          No one will ever forget Sarah’s wedding because even church members who did not know Sarah well, knew that she deserved their support on this special day. Sarah and her husband found jobs that required they move across the country. They found another church in their new town where each child was baptized and later confirmed. Most Sundays now Sarah ushers and her eldest stays with her after services gathering bulletins as her mom did as a child, both glad to know the love of Christ made real within the church of Christ.

          What happened in Corinth that required Paul to plea for them to revisit Christ’s love? We will never know. What we do know is that you and I write a version of Sarah’s story with each action and every word we speak, day by day, Sunday after Sunday. What I do know is that after six month in Covesville that this congregation is remarkably gifted in writing a narrative of love and refusing to sink into the abyss of fear and division. Never has such a gift been needed more than today.

As you and I enter into a new era in American life, may our witness of love, inclusive love, expansive love, respectful love, forgiving love, broaden far beyond the walls of this sanctuary into a society that will never be whole until love abides.

                                        AMEN