Skip to main content

The Tension in the Church

1 Corinthians 1.1-9
The words of thanksgiving with which Paul, and his administrative assistant Sosthenes, open their letter present an idealised picture of how the church in Corinth might be if it were truly faithful to its Lord. As the letter unfolds, however, we shall learn that Paul's description of sanctified people filled with the grace of God, not lacking in any spiritual gift, and enriched in faith and knowledge of every kind as they give strong witness to the good news about Jesus, is sadly far from the truth. If the Christians at Corinth are indeed to be blameless on the day of judgement, they will need a great deal of strengthening first.

But isn't the same tension, between what ought to be and could be, and how things actually are in reality, found in every church? And isn't that sorry state of affairs almost inevitable? Because the Church is, after all, meant to be a haven for people who are still on a spiritual journey, who are seeking sanctification, or holiness; it's not a final resting place for people who have already arrived. What we need, therefore, is a proper humility about ourselves and our churches. We are not perfect - yet. We are being made perfect, but some of us still have a long way to go.

We may be saints, (Paul's term for anyone who has put their trust in Jesus), but we are not yet saintly. Even John Wesley, who believed in the possibilty - on rare occasions - of Christians being made perfect on this side of eternity, also acknowledged that anyone can slide back into the old ways of faction fighting, feuding, backbiting and misbehaving which seem to have dogged the life of the church in Corinth.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I don't believe in an interventionist God

Matthew 28.1-10, 1 Corinthians 15.1-11 I like Nick Cave’s song because of its audacious first line: ‘I don’t believe in an interventionist God’. What an unlikely way to begin a love song! He once explained that he wrote the song while sitting at the back of an Anglican church where he had gone with his wife Susie, who presumably does believe in an interventionist God - at least that’s what the song says. Actually Cave has always been very interested in religion. Sometimes he calls himself a Christian, sometimes he doesn’t, depending on how the mood takes him. He once said, ‘I believe in God in spite of religion, not because of it.’ But his lyrics often include religious themes and he has also said that any true love song is a song for God. So maybe it’s no coincidence that he began this song in such an unlikely way, although he says the inspiration came to him during the sermon. The vicar was droning on about something when the first line of the song just popped into his

Giotto’s Nativity and Adoration of the Shepherds

John 1.10-18 In the week before Christmas the BBC broadcast a modern version of The Nativity which attempted to retell the story with as much psychological realism as possible. So, for instance, viewers saw how Mary, and Joseph especially, struggled with their feelings. But telling the story of Jesus with psychological realism is not a new idea. It has a long tradition going back seven hundred years to the time of the Italian artist Giotto di Bondone. This nativity scene was painted in a church in Padua in about 1305. Much imitated it is one of the first attempts at psychological realism in Christian art. And what a wonderful first attempt it is - a work of genius, in fact! Whereas previously Mary and the Baby Jesus had been depicted facing outwards, or looking at their visitors, with beatific expressions fixed on their faces, Giotto dares to show them staring intently into one another’s eyes, bonding like any mother and newborn baby. Joseph, in contrast, is not looking on with quiet a

Meeting Jesus on Zoom

‘Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.’ (John 20.19-31 ( https://www.biblegateway.com NRSVA) This is my second reflection about today’s Gospel reading but I wanted to write something about meeting Jesus on Zoom. Zoom’s been very useful during the lockdown, but it’s also got a bad press. Various mischief makers have gatecrashed meetings on Zoom, either to eavesdrop or make inappropriate comments. That’s why worshippers needed permission to join our on-line service this week. If they managed to press all the right buttons, and entered all the right codes, they should've found themselves looking at a screen not unlike the cartoon picture below of the eleven apostles trying to meet on Zoom with the risen Jesus. Anyone who couldn't see the service on the screen would've been in good company. In the cartoon Jesus has done something wrong. Either he hasn’t enabled Zoom to t