Sermon: “Not with Eloquent Wisdom”

Text: First Corinthians 1:10-18

3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

January 27, 2008

Scripture introduction.  Last week we talked about the background of Paul’s correspondence with the church in Corinth—how Paul had brought the gospel to that very cosmopolitan city, a place colonized by retired Roman soldiers and also containing Greeks and Jews and Egyptians and many others.  From what we can piece together of the correspondence, it appears that after Paul left Corinth other Christian preachers like Apollos came there.  Like Paul, Apollos was a Jewish believer in Christ.  Apollos was from Alexandria, Egypt, a center of Jewish scholarship and philosophy.  Whether it was from Apollos or from some other teacher we do not know, but some believers in Corinth began to get the idea that God had given them special wisdom or knowledge and that this special knowledge was the heart of Christianity.  Pretty soon there were divisions among different groups of Corinthian Christians. 

When Paul found out, he wrote this letter, in which he reminded the Corinthians that they were not followers of Paul, or of Peter, or of Apollos, but of Jesus.  And, he insisted, it was not the wisdom of Christianity that defined the church, but rather the sacrificial death of Jesus on the cross.  Paul appealed to the Corinthians that, although they came from many different backgrounds and had different perspectives, nevertheless they could be united in Christian purpose.   What unites Christians, according to Paul, is not eloquent philosophy, but rather the simple fact that each believer has been saved by the powerful sacrifice of Christ on the cross.  Paul tells us it is easier to be united when we do not think too highly of our own wisdom.


Sermon.  Have you ever noticed in our worship service that if the children’s moment doesn’t get started right away, the children like to explore up here around the pulpit?  It makes me remember my own explorations of the pulpit of the Baptist church in which I was raised.  I remember very clearly that on the pulpit, right there in front of where the preacher would be looking, an engraved sign was placed.  It quoted John 12:21: “Sir, we would see Jesus.”  I think the sign was a reminder that we preachers are to get out of the way and let the people see Jesus.  This reminder may be even more appropriate for Presbyterian preachers than for others because in our tradition we place such a strong value on using all the available tools of scholarship as we interpret the Bible.  And I also think it’s fair to say that Presbyterians tend to be a questioning bunch.  I wouldn’t have it any other way, because that’s part of who we are: it’s in our DNA.  Of course questioning does lead to discussion, and sometimes discussion can lead to disagreement.  And the next thing you know, someone feels compelled to leave the church, or some church feels compelled to leave the denomination, and on and on.

When we study the history of religion in America, we learn how our religious freedom actually has led to the multiplication of different Christian denominations.  When someone disagreed with the doctrine of one of the established churches, or wanted to introduce some refinement, and if the established church would not change, in our country it was—and is—possible simply to organize a new church.  I have a book in my office that describes more than two hundred different denominations in the United States.[1]  And at least nine of those claim the name “Presbyterian”!

And Terre Haute is no exception the fact of division within the Christian church.  Over a year ago former Mayor Burke invited all the religious leaders of Terre Haute to gather for a discussion about the needs of our community.  He began the meeting by describing how important unity had been in bringing new businesses to Terre Haute.  Not so long ago there were lots of organizations attempting to promote Terre Haute—the power company, the state government, the local chamber of commerce, Indiana State University, and representatives of the industrial park.  Because they were not coordinated and because they emphasized different points, the presentation was not effective.  But the Mayor told us that when the business and governmental leaders of our county came together and agreed on a common approach, when they organized an economic development corporation to serve as the focal point for the message and the coordinator of all our efforts, that unity quickly began to show results. 

Mayor Burke let that sink in before he made his next point, which was a question to the religious leaders of our city: “Why can’t the churches do the same thing?”  Why are we so suspicious of one another?  Why do we covet each other’s success?  Why do we let our differences keep us from working together?  I wish you could have seen what happened next.  All the preachers began explaining why everything really could be better coordinated, if only the people from the other traditions would get on board.  Really, it would have been funny if it weren’t so tragic.

Something moved me to respond.  (Maybe it was just that I knew I had to leave the meeting early and could retreat immediately after making my point.)  I agreed with the Mayor’s observation that the religious community in Terre Haute is fragmented.  I mentioned how hard it had been when I first arrived in town to figure out where to refer people who needed help.  Various relief organizations seemed to be overlapping and poorly coordinated.  I said that in both cities where I had lived before moving to Terre Haute—Birmingham and Louisville—there were so-called “community ministry organizations.”  These were non-profit organizations that were funded and directed by a broad group of churches.  Their staff served as a starting point for people who needed help.  If someone came to a church needing assistance, the church would refer them to the community ministry organization.  The staff of the community ministry organization would determine what the person’s needs were and would either provide help directly or would match them with other organizations who could provide help.  They kept good records, so they could track what kind of help had been provided.  This helped to prevent people from “gaming” the system, which it turns out really didn’t happen that much; and just as importantly, it allowed the available agencies to provide better care because there was a record of what had been attempted already.  Over time, these organizations became expert in helping families stay off the bottom rung of our economic ladder.  And because the community ministry organizations were broadly supported by Catholics, Orthodox, mainline Protestants, Evangelicals, Pentecostals, and independents, there was no jealousy or turf competition.  Everybody was in it together.  After describing these organizations to the assembled group, I left—fairly convinced that we were far from having such cooperation in Terre Haute.

Within a day or so, I received an e-mail from another local pastor who had been at the meeting.  He said that about ten years ago he and several colleagues had attempted something like this in Terre Haute.  After a promising start it had not succeeded.  For this reason he was very pessimistic initially about the possibility that a new effort would do better.   However, he said that the more he thought about the Mayor’s challenge, the more he thought it might be time to try again.  He asked me if I would be part of the effort.  Of course, I agreed.

We began with a small group of pastors, but one that we hoped would be representative of all the different denominations.  First, we set ourselves to learning more about community ministry organizations.  David Bos, a Presbyterian minister and friend of mine from Louisville, the husband of one of my favorite professors, is actually an expert on these organizations.  He has structured them, run them, and written books[2] about them.  I called David, and he agreed to help.  A group of us then went down to Louisville to take a tour of some of the community ministry organizations in that metropolitan area.  Without any charge, David spent the better part of two days learning about our situation in Terre Haute and suggesting a course of action to us.  When those of us who took the field trip came back and reported to our larger group, there was considerable enthusiasm.

We have continued on the path toward organizing a community ministry organization for Terre Haute.  Of course there is a long way to go.  We need to file incorporation papers, apply for federal tax exemption, find some office space in critical locations—perhaps unused space in member churches—and begin to search for an executive director.  The organization will need the financial support of its constituent churches, and we have not yet asked for financial commitments.  Once we do begin operations, we hope to show some early successes so that many churches will want to join the effort.  We hope to begin with member churches from as many traditions as possible, so any church later will feel comfortable in joining.  The organization has no intention of competing with existing ministries, but rather to assist by helping them coordinate their efforts. 

If this organization is to succeed, each church will need to de-emphasize what makes its tradition distinctive and focus on what all Christians have in common—Christ’s call to serve those who need help.[3]  I think the apostle Paul would approve.  To paraphrase him, we were not saved by John Calvin or John Wesley, by Barton Stone[4] or Billy Graham, by Joel Osteen[5] or Bill Hybels.[6]  We were saved by Christ.  We were not saved by eloquent wisdom and involved theological arguments; we were saved by the power of love nailed to a tree.  It is OK to have our own tradition because that is how we came to faith.  It is how we have been nurtured in faith.  Unity does not mean sameness; we always will have our differences.  God’s message of love is always the same, but different people receive it in different ways.  Knowing this, we must affirm the good in each other—the Christ in each other.  When we are in the foxhole of ministry, it does not matter whether the person working next to us is a Pentecostal or a Catholic.  We are working for the same thing—showing the love of Christ. 

Soon our church will have an opportunity to make a commitment to this organization.  I hope we will take a leadership role and be one of the founding churches.  A broken world is asking of us, “Sir, we would see Jesus.”  I can think of no better way, on a local level, for the church to respond. 



[1] Mead, Frank S., and Samuel S. Hill, Handbook of Denominations in the United States, 11th ed., rev. by Craig Atwood (Nashville, Tenn.: Abingdon, 1985).

[2] Bos, A. David, Bound Together: A Theology for Ecumenical Community Ministry (Cleveland, Ohio: Pilgrim, 2005) and A Practical Guide to Community Ministry (Louisville, Ky: Westminster John Knox, 1993).

[3] Matthew 25.

[4] Co-founder with Alexander Campbell of what we now know as the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ).

[5] Popular tel-evangelist.  See http://joelosteen.lakewood.cc/site/PageServer?pagename=JOM_homepage

[6] Senior Pastor of Willow Creek Community Church, near Chicago, Illinois, on which many independent community churches currently are modeled.  See http://www.willowcreek.org