The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost
1 Corinthians 1: 10-18
St. Matthew 9: 27-35
EPISTLE: 1 Corinthians 1:10-18.
Listen to how St. Paul begins today’s lesson; “Now I plead with you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you all speak the same thing, and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be perfectly joined together in the same mind and in the same judgment.”
As the goal of the Christian life is joyful unity with one-another and God through Christ, divisions – especially divisions in our Christian families and parishes are willful denials of Christ. To use old fashioned words that speak the truth more directly, such things are sinful and heretical blasphemies.
St. John puts the same message in a slightly different way (using the metaphor of light), saying; “He that says he is in the light, and hates his brother, is in darkness even until now.”
How can we have unity, how can we share light, if there are divisions and darkness in and among us? We cannot – it is a logical impossibility. A thing cannot be full of light if there are blots and shadows inside it. A thing cannot be whole if it is broken into parts. Claiming otherwise is nonsense (which is why the Church calls it sinful and heretical blasphemy).
This unity, this perfect light, is something that all humans long for; it is the answer to loneliness and suffering; it is the promise of unending peace in the midst of war and the promise of comfort in the midst of torturous pain. And it is not just a promise of future things, like some sort of dangled prize meant to keep you slogging through to the end: it is something that you are meant to begin to feel, realize, and share even today. And our Christian families and parishes are meant to be the sources of this change.
Which, by the way, is to say that divisions and darkness are more than just bad choices, they keep us from that which we truly need (which is , once again, why the Church calls them sinful and heretical blasphemy).
So how do we get there? How do we heal the divisions between us? How do we allow real love and light grow between people who currently feel such enmity and dislike for one another? How do we stop lying about our relationship with Christ and begin doing the things that Christians must do to realize and share their inheritance?
Last week I gave you an exercise that would get you started: the strong must bear the infirmities of the weak. Then I said that all of you are strong, meant to bear both the infirmities of one another and of all those who come through these open doors. Just as the rich are meant to give up things that they might want to buy in order to pay the “fair share” of those who are not; just as those with extra time are meant to give up things they might want to do in order to take up the slack of those who do not; so too are all of us to sacrifice our own preferences in service to those who are not strong enough to sacrifice their own.
This week, St. Paul pushes us even further, showing us just how serious this commitment to humility must be if we are to really become perfect in unity, love, and light. He does this at the end of today’s lesson, when he writes; “the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.”
There are many ways in which “the message of the cross is foolishness”, but we tend to use it in the self-congratulatory sense of “I know that what I do – calling myself a “Christian”, getting my children baptized, going to Church on Sunday mornings and so on – doesn’t make sense to you, but that is because you are perishing in ignorance … while I am being saved.”
But this isn’t what St. Paul means at all (St. Paul does not waste time proclaiming sinful and heretical blasphemy): he is challenging those who have created and put up with divisions within the parish at Corinth to embrace the Cross. He challenged them to embrace the Cross because it is through Christ’s own suffering on that Cross that Christ made our unity possible, and it is through our own voluntary suffering that we join ourselves to Him in light and perfection. Often when we speak of “taking up the Cross”, we mean those burdens that life has put on our shoulders. But is this what Christ did? Was He simply accomplishing the difficult task His Father gave Him? Or did He go to the Cross to voluntarily suffer for the shortcomings of others? Others who were sinful, others who were weak… while He Himself was both pure and strong?
Such Charity is foolish in the eyes of the world. It says that the strong and innocent do not quietly suffer for the weak. It says the strong should either use their power to their own benefit, or, if they want to be good, they should use their power to strengthen the weak or improve their situation. But is this the way of the Cross? This is what many Jews expected the Messiah to do – but is this what He actually did? Using power in this way may feel righteous, but it is not what the righteous are called to do. [Tolkein’s example of Galadriel?].
The righteous are called to be charitable and humble, to endure suffering even for the weak… even for those who are wrong… even for those who attack them.
There is no way to truly enjoy unity, perfection, and light except through Christ; and the way of Christ is the way of the Cross. Every other way is sinful, heretical blasphemy. Which is to say that every other way will not work. Now take up that Cross and follow Him.
