The Old, Rugged Cross

For it has been reported to me by Chloe’s people that there are quarrels among you, my brothers and sisters. What I mean is that each of you says, “I belong to Paul,” or “I belong to Apollos,” or “I belong to Cephas,” or “I belong to Christ.” Has Christ been divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul? … For Christ did not send me to baptize but to proclaim the gospel, and not with eloquent wisdom, so that the cross of Christ might not be emptied of its power. For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. [1 Corinthians 1:11-13; 17-18].

Chloe was gravely concerned about the survival of her church. As virtually all of you recall, the Chloe about whom I speak was a first century leader in the Corinthian congregation established by Paul. Yes, contrary to popular belief, Paul “allowed” women to be leaders in “his” churches.

We don’t know much about Chloe except to say that she had sent a delegation to Paul in Ephesus to tell him that soon after his departure from Corinth, the church had splintered along fault lines. The small Greek (i.e., mostly Gentile) congregation—NT scholars suggest that the group numbered in the dozens, not the hundreds—began to divide itself based upon his or her favorite evangelist. As we see in the Epistle reading for this upcoming Sunday, the Third Sunday after Epiphany, 1 Corinthians 1:10-18 (RCL, Year A), some said that they belonged to Paul. Others said they belonged to Apollos, or to Cephas (i.e., to Peter). Some apparently realized the implications of their stated loyalties and so, of course, they had added that they belonged to Christ.

The issue was essentially one of identity. Employing the language of our own century, we might ask some of them, “Do you identify as belonging to Paul?”

Their response could have been something like, “No, I identify as belonging to Apollos.”

“I identify as ….” How human beings love to identify. We love to craft special categories into which we can place ourselves and those nearby who are friendly to our viewpoint. And, of course, we craft other categories to identify those with whom we do not agree.

As Paul pours out his first letter to his fledglings, he initially sounds a bit like Rodney King, asking the splintered factions to knit themselves together “in the same mind and the same purpose” [1 Cor. 1:10)]. But then, he moves to a stronger point. The Corinthian enclave appears to have forgotten one of Paul’s core teachings: that in and through the Cross, God tore asunder their ways of defining themselves and those around them. Some might identify as belonging to one evangelist or another, but in and through the Cross, those old identity methods have been ripped apart.

The Corinthian church members have continued to adhere to a “wisdom” that Paul regards as completely overturned by God’s work in Christ. They must abandon such “wisdom,” since it is only folly. Later in the chapter, Paul will tell them that God has made foolish the so-called “wisdom” of the wise and instead made the crucified Jesus wisdom for us, “and righteousness and sanctification and redemption” [1 Cor. 1:30].

In verse 13, Paul rhetorically asks those who are so intent upon division if Christ himself has been divided? Turning to the issue of baptism, he inquires, “Were you baptized in the name of Paul?” Apparently, some were giving allegiance to the pastor/evangelist who baptized them. And so, Paul declares that he is glad that he baptized so very few of them.

He fires out at them the biting rhetorical question, “Was Paul crucified for you?” Paul will not allow anyone to declare him their loyalty. It should only be declared to the One who died on the Cross for them.

Since the people have brought the issue up, Paul is happy to talk about baptism, because Paul understands that unity springs from their common baptism, not from the identity of the one who poured the water and said the words on the important occasion. Through baptism, the entire Corinthian gathering has a shared connection in the One who was crucified. Through that connection with Christ, they should recognize that they have an unbreakable connection with each other. Even more important, through their common baptism they have a new identity: they belong to Christ, not to some evangelist with whom they might “identify.”

“I identify as ….” Although two thousand years have passed, we don’t seem to have come very far. We still love our identifiers, our little barriers, our fences, our categories. We acknowledge the deep divide that is breaking our society apart and then we immediately go back to our practice of defining each other according to our skin color, our ethnicity, our immigration status, political party, economic background, education level—or lack thereof—and our sexual preferences. Examining our own congregations, we rarely celebrate that we are of “the same mind and purpose.” Instead, we’re proud of the fact that we are “practicing diversity.”

A few years ago, the Rev. Dr. Mary Hinkle Shore, recently retired rector and dean of Lutheran Theological Southern Seminary (Columbia, S.C.), preached in Duke Chapel on Reformation Sunday (October 31, 2021). Her text was not in 1st Corinthians. But I enjoyed listening to her sermon after the fact and based upon her presentation, I located some of her writings. She’s particularly active within a group of Lutheran pastors who provide preaching commentaries tied to the Revised Common Lectionary (RCL).

A number of years ago, in her commentary on this week’s (i.e., Year A’s) Corinthians passage, she shared a story told to her by a pastor friend (I’m going from memory here; I hope I convey her point). Dr. Shore’s friend was leading a meeting at his southern church. A half dozen or so had gathered in the Fellowship Hall and were sitting around a table. The issue being discussed was the cultural diversity within the congregation. They talked about ways in which they might reach out to the various racial groups who lived near the church. They wondered what might be done to strengthen the church’s ties with the LGBTQ+ community. Immigration was another issue. What might they do to show solidarity with those fleeing other countries and crossing our southern border?

As the group continued to discuss the issues, one of them said that he wanted to point out the tremendous strides that the congregation had made in recent years. The congregation now had several Latino families. Several groups of Haitians had joined as well. Membership among African-Americans was up several percentage points. They had given money to support several important causes. He added that there was always room for improvement, but he felt as if they were making great strides in diversity.

All through the discussion, an elderly woman sat silently, but several could tell that she was upset. As the gentlemen completed his words praising the progress made within the church, the white-haired lady clenched her small fist and suddenly brought it down on the table. Water in several glasses shimmered with the vibration.

“We are not a social experiment!” she announced. “We are a church. Our goal is not diversity, but Unity and Oneness.”

“I identify as ….” As long as we concentrate on our identity markers, as long as we carefully segregate ourselves into little identity groups, stressing that “I identify as this or that race,” or this or that gender, or this or that political party, we will be repeating the mistake made by the early Christians in Corinth. The life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus Christ altered everything, particularly the way that we self-identify and the way we see and characterize others. Are we to cling to those old and comfortable identity markers or are we instead to cling to “the old rugged Cross?”