Musing

Musing

Monday, February 11, 2008

1 Corinthians 12:27-13:13

“Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it. And God has appointed in the church first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then workers of miracles, then healers, helpers, administrators, speakers in various kinds of tongues. Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles? Do all possess gifts of healing? Do all speak with tongues? Do all interpret? But earnestly desire the higher gifts.
And I will show you a still more excellent way.
If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never ends; as for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. For our knowledge is imperfect and our prophecy is imperfect; but when the perfect comes, the imperfect will pass away. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became a man, I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall understand fully, even as I have been fully understood. So faith, hope, love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” RSV

Yesterday, we were in church and a church member, a wonderful bubbly lady, walked up to us to welcome us. She was unaware that we had been attending there for some time and was so glad that we were there. Her parting comment to us was, “This is such a beautiful place.”

As I sat there with my husband, I asked him, “I wonder what she sees ‘beautiful’ about it? The decor? The people? The doctrine? Why is she so enamored with this particular church?”

The question was even more poignant for me because we have been unhappy in this particular congregation. For awhile, I thought that maybe it was just us . . . until we were able to visit a church on our trip to Hawaii and realized that there really are churches where there is sincere worship, where there is good doctrine preached, where the people are really and truly friendly, and where one might worship in spirit and in truth.

So, here I’m sitting in this church and I suddenly realized: many churches in America and like the Hans Christian Anderson story of the Emperor’s new clothes. Do you remember this one?

(Paraphrased): There was an emperor who was terribly vain and only thought about his appearances. One day, two tailors (con men actually) came to him and told him that they could make him, not only the most wonderful clothes in the world, but clothes made up of a cloth that only those who were truly wise could see. Of course, everyone in the kingdom—wanting to prove their wisdom—claimed to be able to see the clothes (though no one, including the emperor could). Eventually a child cried out, “But the emperor has nothing on.”

The saddest part of the story is Anderson’s last line: “The emperor shuddered, for he knew that they were right, but he thought, ‘The procession must go on!’ He carried himself even more proudly, and the chamberlains walked along behind carrying the train that wasn't there.” (http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/type1620.html#andersen)

I think that there are many, many Christians in America attending churches were they are desperately trying to convince themselves (and others) that what’s happening in that church is truly of the Lord, that it’s truly spiritual, that it’s truly “beautiful,” when in reality it’s simply nothingness.

We have traded reality for a fable . . . and we continue to live the lie because we believe that “the procession must go on.”

Paul, in much of the middle part of 1 Corinthians, gives a very elaborate description of what “church” should be like. First, in the last part of chapter 12, he describes the many faceted face of church: “God has appointed in the church first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then workers of miracles, then healers, helpers, administrators, speakers in various kinds of tongues” (12:28 RSV). And yet, there are few churches where we actually see this kind of structure, where we see this kind of involvement of all the congregation members. Rather, we see church more as an us-and-them configuration. The “us” are the performers (those allowed on the platform) who plan the service for the “them,” the audience. Congregation members who aren’t in the “in” crowd are there for three purposes: (1) to give money, (2) to fill seats, and (3) to continue to perpetuate the “procession” by believing that the emperor is really dressed.

Think about it. My description may seem cynical, but not only is this the way the vast majority of churches are run, but this “format” is actually taught from the pulpit as being the biblical model. The “pastor” is supposed to “run” the church; it’s his responsibility to lead, to guide, to decide.

The emperor’s new clothes.

Paul gives us a very different model. He talks about a church in which everyone is gifted, everyone is involved, and not just for the purpose of providing a place where a few perform and the majority watch. In 1 Corinthians 14:26, Paul gives his conclusion (his summary description of “church”): “When you come together, each one has a hymn, a lesson, a revelation, a tongue, or an interpretation. Let all things be done for edification” (RSV). Notice that Paul says “each one.”
Church was always intended to be a family event, a place where each person has both an opportunity and an obligation to bring something to the table. Think about a family gathering (around the table at Thanksgiving or Christmas). One person doesn’t plan a monologue to which all listen. Everyone brings news and discussion; everyone is involved, including even the youngest who get their fair share of attention.

The same is true of church . . . when it is done properly. And the basis is even more than this. Paul transitions, after his description in 12:28, to this: “And I will show you still a more excellent way.” It seems to me that Paul is describing first a basic kind of church, one where all participate. And then, he transitions to say, “There is even a better kind of gathering together, one based on something even higher than equality of participation.”

Paul realized that motivation is even more important than format. (Do we?) If we come together and the purpose is that >I< will have a chance to share, then I have missed the point. For Paul tells us that the purpose of coming together is to demonstrate something much greater than the idea of mutual participation:

“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.”

If I bring the best prophesy, the best teaching, the best song, the most compelling scripture, but I don’t have the kind of agape love that Jesus showed to me, then my words, my music, my sharing is . . . nothing! The true purpose of coming together is more than the fact that we all need to bring something (though that is important). The true purpose of coming together is that we might live out the kind of love toward each other that the Lord Jesus pours out onto us!

And then Paul describes that love: “Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (13:4-7 RSV).

Are we this . . . ever? Are we patient and kind? Do we give to others sacrificially and support their achievements (rather than being jealous or boastful about our own)? Do we insist that others share . . . and have? Are we loving, forgiving, giving (or are we instead bitter, resentful, and angry)?

I think it’s very important to realize where Paul puts this teaching of “love” . . . right smack dab in the middle of his teaching about what “church” looks like. Why? Because when we come together, we are to practice these things so that they become more natural when we are away from the Body. In other words, we are supposed to be most loving when we are together so that, when we are apart, it’s easier to be loving to those others around us.

Is church this? Is church a place where we learn to all participate? Where we learn to be loving? Or is it a place where we meet with the “clique,” where things are familiar, where we do our Sunday-morning-obligation for the week?

I’m becoming more and more convinced that we are living in a day and age where church is like the emperor’s new clothes and there are very few who are honest enough to cry out, “But the emperor doesn’t have anything on!”

No comments: