The Senior Sermon of Liz Hendrick, Class of 2008 from the Diocese of
Los Angeles, given on February 27, 2008, in Christ Chapel

1 Corinthians 8:1-13

George Herbert would say that sermons are dangerous things, that none goes out of church as he came in, but either better or worse. May the power of God’s Spirit grace these words this morning – Amen.

Brothers and sisters in Christ, I have disturbing news. For all of you who are soon to graduate, and for those of you just starting your seminary education; for those still chasing the hermeneutic circle; for those who love to memorize the maps of Paul’s missionary journeys and for those who would just like to be able to say "God is one in his holy trihypostasizedness" without stumbling over it, I will let you in on an ancient saying:

A lot of knowledge can puff you up!

Yes, in his address to the intelligentsia in “the know” in Corinth, Paul opens today’s reading with the words, “knowledge puffs up, love builds up.”

And how is it that I am discovering this NOW? This couldn’t be a passage for me in my first year of bible? Although I can confess to you that having traveled barefoot through the wilderness known as the General Ordination Exams, I don’t think I’m in any danger of being “puffed up” anytime soon.

Whether you are planning to be ordained or not, all of us spend a period of two to three years in study to attain an education seen as important by our church for its ministers and leaders. And yet, Paul is suggesting that knowledge might be seen as a drawback, especially if given priority over love. But Paul’s own self-description indicates him to be a man of unusually high education. So what’s the problem with knowledge?

In writing to the church leadership in Corinth, Paul is responding to the actions of a few members that are causing him anguish. The letter to the Corinthians discusses ethical and doctrinal issues that were important for Paul. The reading for today is a portion of the letter addressing a practice of some of the elite leadership. This is their logic to justify what they are doing: they believe that there is no God but the one true God and therefore, their participation in ceremonies that the pagans hold, especially in the consumption of food offered during the ceremony, is not a problem, since the food can’t really be “sanctified” if the gods the pagans are worshiping aren’t real. It’s a little convoluted, but it’s how they justify continuing the practice of eating foods sacrificed to idols. Paul realizes the issue was not about food. And before everyone here goes and sells all of their books, and before my professors wonder what it is I have learned in the past three years, the issue wasn’t about knowledge either. It was about the wealthier, important members of the church wanting to continue with the social practices expected of people of their status in society. They did not want to give up their old friends; they did not want to change their lifestyle. And they used their knowledge about Christianity to provide a rationale why the continuation of this practice was permissible. The ethical issue is that what the elite justified as a harmless practice was causing problems for others in the community who were of lesser status.

These new Christians were not as well versed in the theology. Some had renounced the old gods when they embraced Christianity. They could not understand how continuing in pagan practices could be acceptable. It was a stumbling block, and it’s the idea of creating a stumbling block that Paul wants to address. But he’s going against status and the associated lifestyle, which in those days, as well as today, gives a person their identity. And when you go against identity and custom, you need a strongly prophetic voice.

Paul is writing to a fledgling church where a few are quite knowledgeable about Paul’s theology of freedom; it’s not that their understanding is wrong; it’s that they have used the information to bend their faith to their lifestyle –and they are not concerned that their behavior might be a problem for others in the community. In Paul’s view, this is where knowledge is trumping over love, and this is what he is writing to address. The issue has to do with knowledge leading to arrogance. In fact, the word translated as “puffed up” in this passage is translated as “arrogance” in other portions of this letter. Paul positions love against this attitude, using the Greek word agape,- a form of love defined as the highest Christian virtue; a love described as the expression of relationship between God and Christ and between God, Christ and people. A perfect love, a love described so beautifully later in chapter 13 of this letter, it is routinely used as the scripture reading during marriage ceremonies.

Paul is emphatic that as leaders in the church, those with the most knowledge should be the ones pouring out the most love. He is talking about a sacrificial love; a love that puts the care of others before one’s own personal agenda. Paul emphasizes that leaders have responsibilities to the body of believers that takes precedence over their own desire to behave as they wish.

We hear this lesson and we cringe a little; it is a message that is hard for us today, where we are comfortable in making rules for a universe of one. We are an autonomous people and it is not instinctual for us to think about putting the needs of the group ahead of our own. But Paul understood that the church is as strong as its weakest member, and the importance of leadership was to unify and honor the group. The love that “builds up”, as Paul puts it, values servanthood over expertise.

In her book The Preaching Life, Barbara Brown Taylor writes, “I have often wondered whether the church would be even smaller than it is if that cross (at baptism) were made not with water but with permanent ink – a nice deep purple perhaps – so that all who bore Christ’s mark bore it openly, visibly, for the rest of their lives.”

As Christians, we cannot escape the fact that how we live as Christians tells the rest of the world what Christianity is really like. Scary, but true. How we live as Christians – not what we say – but what we do – testifies to our beliefs as Christians. It is even more critical for us as future leaders, because how we act is so visible to other people both inside and outside the church. We don’t just have a purple cross on our foreheads; we wear distinctive apparel that announces before we speak what we profess. If our behavior – in and out of the collar – is not consistent with the teachings found in the gospels, then how can we in good conscience justify our behavior as being acceptable? What Paul is condemning is using our status as leaders and our knowledge to justify pursuing a path that may be problematic for the rest of the group.

When we do this, we are putting ourselves ahead of the good of the body – we are choosing our own path over love. But in the gospels, love for the body trumps convenience for the individual every time.

This is the hard work of ministry. It’s what we commit to as Christians and especially as leaders in the Church. It is exemplified in servants like George Herbert, whose life we commemorate today. Herbert was highly successful academically and politically, but gave up a career in government to become a parish priest. In his book The Country Parson, Herbert talks about the role and behavior of clergy. There are those who would say George Herbert achieved the ideal. Herbert’s definition of pastor is a “deputy of Christ, to bring man back from error to the obedience of God”. Since this is done in large part through example, Herbert goes on to describe the parson’s life as “holy, just, prudent, temperate, bold, and grave in all his ways.” The language strikes us as old fashioned; but the tenets he offers are ageless. George Herbert understood that servant leadership – building up out of love more than knowledge – is what you sign on for.

In our ordination vows, we affirm that we will do this. We agree to be loyal to the doctrine, discipline and worship of Christ. We agree to be governed by the canons of the church and to obey our bishops. And we agree to proclaim the gospel of Christ and live according to its precepts, the first of which is to love and serve the people. We agree to pattern our life in accordance with the teachings of Christ, so that we may be a wholesome example. We are asked to persevere in prayer, both public and private, because prayer is the well of love we tap into, and without it we will dry up.

It’s what we sign on for: to put the needs of the congregation before our own. To understand that the church is a hospital for sinners and that we are blessed with both the role of chief sinner as well as healer. We accept the unfairness that our congregation holds us to a higher standard and then we do our best to live into it. We learn that if we have to choose between writing a brilliant sermon and being at the hospital before a parishioner’s emergency surgery, the bad sermon will be forgiven; our absence may not be. It’s what we sign on for.

That’s why the church talks about vocation for ministries rather than jobs. Why we are raised up out of our congregations to be leaders, rather than deciding for ourselves. Why we attend seminary for formation rather than to achieve a Master’s degree. The language is different because the purpose is different. Against a world often hostile to our message, we do our best to serve Christ by imitating him – and as Paul emphasized to the leaders at Corinth, that is much more about being full of love than it is about being full of knowledge. Amen.