All Saints 10.30 am May 25, 2008. Geoff Pritchard

 

We have a baptism here today, and Nathalie will be brought up as a Christian and taught the Christian faith.  In fact we are all of us still learning, so I invite the baptism party here to eavesdrop on an introduction to our new learning series. We are going to spend seven Sundays, starting in June, learning what the apostle Paul said in his letter to the Christians of Ephesus. This morning I am just going to say something about Paul the man.

 

Paul wrote a huge amount of the New Testament. But he was not one of the original twelve disciples who went around with Jesus. His crucial contact with Christians came later was when he was persecuting them. He watched a young man giving a good impression of the behaviour you might expect of Jesus, and it had an effect on him.

 

The man he saw was called Stephen, and like Jesus he had annoyed the authorities by speaking the truth---often a dangerous thing to do. So Stephen was taken outside the city walls and executed by stoning. It was a way of intimidating Stephen’s friends.

 

Like Jesus, Stephen prayed aloud for his killers to be forgiven.  Even as the stones were crashing on his head. Paul was not used to this kind of behaviour, and he was so impressed that he became a disciple himself.

 

Paul had a good view of the killing because he had been holding the coats of the chief witnesses to this sorry event. He was therefore implicated in the killing.   God often chooses people with blood on their hands, like the well-known murderers Moses and David, to lead his people. We should never write anyone off.

 

Because if even murderers can reform, what excuse have we to write off that awful person next door? And how can we justify maintaining that the dark parts of our past lives rule us out from getting involved with God’s people?

 

Some people say that Paul was just a dry theology lecturer. Yet the book of Acts, chapter 20, shows light on a different side of him. It describes an emotional parting scene after a brief meeting he had had with a group of Christian disciples from Ephesus, when his ship was in port on its way to Jerusalem:

 

“When he had spoken, he knelt down with all of them and prayed.  They all wept as they embraced him and kissed him. What grieved them most was his statement that they would never see his face again. Then they accompanied him to the ship.” I know from personal experience, people don’t behave like that to university teachers.

 

We are going to concentrate today on Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, chapter 3. But ask yourself this: - why does anybody bother with deep thinkers like Paul? After all, we are moved by emotion (that’s why it’s called emotion; e-motion);  by joy, love, and fun, not by theology.

 

But imagine when we were children; do you remember being taken by car or coach for an outing, perhaps to the beach for the day? When we got there, we all had a joyful time and there were happy memories afterwards, and we’ve still got some of the more embarrassing snapshots locked away where our own kids can’t find them.   For that day out to be successful, somebody had first to do some serious thinking.

A safe car must have been designed and built.  The road itself had to be a safe highway with well-designed junctions, signposts and traffic lights.   The driver must have passed his test, bought the car, got it serviced, filled the tank, learned the highway code, and looked at a map. So it wasn’t as easy as it looked. Get any of this stuff wrong, and the children could be in tears before the end of the day.

 

Yes, emotion is the driving force that moves the human spirit. But if we are to experience the full joy of the Christian life, we’ll find it easier with a simple framework of beliefs.  Paul’s teaching made sure that his hearers’ faith wouldn’t wobble when the going got tough. Which it soon did.

 

At first glance, one bit of today’s passage (verses 18 and 19) do not seem to support what I have just said at all. Paul seems at first sight to be against thinking, on principle. He says this:

 

 “ Do not deceive yourselves.  If any of you thinks he is wise by the standards of this age, he should become a fool, so that he may become wise.  For the wisdom of this world is foolishness in God’s sight.” This passage has been used to say it is a waste of time even to TRY to think about our faith.

 

Yet nobody who examines Paul’s letters--- any of them--- can accuse him of avoiding rational argument. His purpose in talking about human wisdom was only to stress that we cannot get right with God in the first place by our own cleverness; we need to ask for God’s help.  

 

Our brains are not powerful enough to understand the mind of God.  It’s the same reason why the average dog ---yours may be different---the average dog never reads the Financial Times. Their brains simply aren’t up to it. It’s not just that they prefer the Sun.

And God does not give privileged access to the brainy. The gospel is for everyone. The genius, the bright, the dim, the brain-damaged at birth.

 

Look at Paul’s letters; notice he relies a lot on the word “Therefore”. This word makes no sense whatever, in any sentence, except when used to link together two stages of a reasoned argument. It means, “Because of what I have explained in the previous chapter, we can go on to say….”.

 

Looking at Paul’s epistle to the Romans, “Therefore” is the first word in chapter 5, the first word in chapter 8, and the first word in chapter 12.  It occurs in lots of other places too.

The whole book is a reasoned argument. Religion does not banish reason; it complements reason.

 

Now let’s go to the main part of today’s passage in 1 Corinthians. There had been a little local disagreement among the Christians in Corinth as to who they should follow. Verses 4 to 6 say this: For when one says, “I follow Paul,” and another, “I follow Apollos,” are you not mere men?  Who, after all, is Apollos?  And who is Paul? Only servants, through whom you came to believe.

I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow”. Just like Paul Swann and Ashley here, isn’t it? God likes teams. We needn’t shoot either of them.

 

St Paul was busy planting new churches.  It would not have been possible to be a pastor as well, so other people were appointed to build up the young churches when he moved on. 

Paul compares building up a church congregation to putting up an ordinary building. Verse 10, “By the grace God has given me, I laid a foundation as an expert builder”.

 

Anyone coming to Paul’s letters for the first time should know that when he talks about a church, he means the people, the congregation, the community; and NOT the stonework; and when he talks about laying foundations, he means the teaching the congregation receives, not the concrete.

 

Why? Because the teaching determines whether the church is one you or I might want to belong to. Have you ever had an awful experience at a strange church?

 

One where nobody welcomes you, where all eleven people are as old as me, nobody makes eye contact, there are no midweek meetings, nobody stays for coffee, they dash straight out for their real enthusiasm, the Sunday Times, instead? It’s the teaching that’s gone wrong; and by teaching I mean not just the sermons, but the conversation too, insofar as there is any.

 

Hold on, someone here may say, “Frankly we don’t really fancy a whole load of boring teaching. What we want is joy and fun. Isn’t teaching the same as doctrine? And isn’t doctrine really just DOGMA? I don’t want to be known as a dogmatic type”.

 

What matters of course is whether the teaching is true.

 

Paul never insists that we all follow some weird kind of heavenly National Curriculum.  He never sets exams, he never writes a creed. He simply wants us to have the right priorities in life.

 

This room is sometimes so full ---not at Bank Holiday perhaps---so full that we have to queue a long time for coffee and someone spills it down our socks. We feel we are doing fine. That’s surely how it’s meant to be. Whereas if we reach for a calculator, we find we need five buildings this big to accommodate even 1% of the population of this city. Can God be content with that?

 

Paul lost sleep over all those people in Mediterranean cities like Ephesus and Corinth and Rome and Philippi and Colossae and Thessalonica, who had never heard of Jesus.

 

Verse 12: If any man builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, his work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light.  It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each man’s work.

 

Here, the gold and silver and hay and straw refer to the kind of teaching, and the meaning of fire is less certain, but it could mean the stiff tests that the congregation’s members may one day have to undergo. In Zimbabwe, a congregation has just been beaten up while kneeling at the communion rail.

 

Despite all that stuff about foundations, the New Testament never encourages the idea that church buildings are important, even if they seem to us sensitive people to have a special atmosphere because they have been hallowed by centuries of prayer. It is people who are important. We must never forget it.

You must have met people who are natural worriers. They say, if we all have the same  teaching, we all read Paul,  won’t we all come out of the sausage machine the same? Won’t we all be clones?

 

Fortunately God has given us different personalities and backgrounds and gifts. The Christian life as demonstrated by one person will be very different from that lived by another. Sadly, I shall never end up being mistaken for Wendy Taylor.

 

Paul’s letters aren’t JUST about doctrine anyway. In his letter to the Romans, the first eleven chapters are solid doctrine; the remainder are about the behaviour that should follow.

 

Once when I was a student there was a union debate. The atheists and agnostics said, “Our generation is going to dump Christian doctrine, but don’t worry, we will keep the Christian morality”.

The Christian students replied, “It just won’t work.  If the Christian doctrine goes, the morality will go out the window a generation later, and we will have chaos”. Fifty years later it has happened. Broken Britain has arrived on schedule.

 

The Christian who has learned some doctrine has something to hold onto. Because sometimes life is tough, mornings are grey.  The bills come in faster than usual, that vital relationship we depend on is frayed, the doctor tells us things we don’t want to know, a loved one has just died, or we are given a P45. 

 

Yet the same God who made the sea and sky and keeps the meteorites rushing around, (we wouldn’t be here at all without meterorites), he is the same God gave us his only Son, so that all who believe in Him might have eternal life.

 

I have talked about emotion, because it is the driving force of the human spirit.  But Jesus does not want us to come to him simply and solely in order to get a bit of a high. Nor should we tempt others that way.

 

Millions get their feel-good feeling already in their own way, through sport, heavy rock, job satisfaction, pep pills.  Jeremy Clarkson gets it from fast cars. I’ve known people get it from cataloguing dead beetles.

 

But such activities are for this life only. They bring no hope to those standing at the graveside on a cold January day. The best some people’s friends will ever say at the funeral is “he had a good innings, you know, he was 84”.

 

To conclude, Paul laid the groundwork in his letters to enable Christians to recognise what should come first in their lives. As a result a universal symbol of the Christian faith has emerged. And  it is not a smiley face.

 

Nor is it a mountain, as it might have been if the moral teachings of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount had been the crux of Christian teaching. The universally recognised symbol of Christianity is a cross; no matter whether it’s a bare Protestant one showing that Christ is risen, or an elaborate Catholic one evoking thoughts of His suffering.

 

Handel’s Messiah brings to mind the phrase  “He was despised and rejected, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief”.

Jesus did what he had to, unpleasant though it was, for our sakes, that we might have life and joy.  Paul’s role was much easier---to tell others what Jesus had done, and explain why; explain how it fitted in with all that had happened before.  In the coming weeks, starting in June, we shall be looking at what he said to his friends in Ephesus.

 

END