Weekly Sermon

Paul's Word to the Wise - February 2, 2003

The Reverend Anne Benefield

Corinthians 8: 1-13

From The Message, a translation by Eugene Peterson The question keeps coming up regarding meat that has been offered up to an idol: Should you attend meals where such meat is served, or not? We sometimes tend to think we know all we need to know to answer these kinds of questions-but sometimes our humble hearts can help us more than our proud minds. We never really know enough until we recognize that God alone knows it all. Some people say, quite rightly, that idols have no actual existence, that there's nothing to them, that there is no God other than our one God, that no matter how many of these so-called gods are named and worshiped they still don't add up to anything but a tall story. They say-again, quite rightly-that there is only one God the Father, that everything comes from him, and that he wants us to live for him. Also, they say that there is only one Master-Jesus the Messiah-and that everything is for his sake, including us. Yes. It's true. In strict logic, then, nothing happened to the meat when it was offered up to an idol. It's just like any other meat. I know that, and you know that. But knowing isn't everything. If it becomes everything, some people end up as know-it-alls who treat others as know-nothings. Real knowledge isn't that insensitive. We need to be sensitive to the fact that we're not all at the same level of understanding in this. Some of you have spent your entire lives eating "idol meat," and are sure that there's something bad in the meat that then becomes something bad inside you. An imagination and conscience shaped under those conditions isn't going to change overnight. But fortunately, God doesn't grade us on our diet. We're neither commended when we clean our plate nor reprimanded when we just can't stomach it. But God does care when you use your freedom carelessly in a way that leads a Christian still vulnerable to those old associations to be thrown off track. For instance, say you flaunt your freedom by going to a banquet thrown in honor of idols, where the main course is meat sacrificed to idols. Isn't there great danger if someone still struggling over this issue, someone who looks up to you as knowledgeable and mature, sees you go into that banquet? The danger is that he will become terribly confused-maybe even to the point of getting mixed up himself in what his conscience tells him is wrong. Christ gave up his life for that person. Wouldn't you at least be willing to give up going to dinner for him-because, as you say, it doesn't really make any difference? But it does make a difference if you hurt your friend terribly, risking his eternal ruin! When you hurt your friend, you hurt Christ. A free meal here and there isn't worth it at the cost of even one of these "weak ones." So, never go to these idol-tainted meals if there's any chance it will trip up one of your brothers or sisters. Prayer: Lord God, open our minds and our hearts to hear your word. Amen. I was talking to a friend of mine the other day about our lectionary passage. I said I was preaching from the I Corinthians 8 selection. She said that she had chosen the Gospel passage because she didn't want to preach about dietary laws and pagan idols. I don't think that's what this passage is about. I think it is about sensitivity, compassion, and helping each other along the way. William Barclay, the Scottish theologian, pulled three great principles from this famous passage. He wrote: 1. What is safe for one man may be quite unsafe for another…Something may be no temptation whatever to us, but it may be a violent temptation to someone else. 2. Nothing ought to be judged solely from the point of view of knowledge; everything ought to be judged from the point of view of love…There is always a certain danger in knowledge. It tends to make a man arrogant and superior and look down unsympathetically on the man who is not as far advanced in himself. 3. No man has any right to indulge in a pleasure or to demand a liberty, which may be the ruination of someone else. [William Barclay, The Daily Study Bible Series: The Letters to the Corinthians, Revised Edition, (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1975), 76.] Barclay gets right to the point. He laid out a good outline, which I am going to follow it. His first principle is that the thing that is safe for one person may cause another to stumble. It is important to be sensitive to each other, recognizing that if we are not careful, we can create unbearable situations for another. In a few minutes, we will share the cup of salvation. In most churches in America, the cup will hold grape juice. When I was in seminary, there were lively debates about whether juice or wine should be served. I hadn't thought much about it before. Hearing those debates, I realized that a good case for wine could be made. Among other things, I realized that a sip of wine from a cup would certainly be a more dramatic experience than sipping grape juice. At the same time, a strong case can be made that what Jesus drank at the Last Supper was grape juice. According to Greek scholars, the words used in Matthew and Mark's accounts of the Last Supper are the words for grape juice not the word for wine. Nonetheless, I must admit that for me the strongest reason for filling the cup with grape juice is kindness. You see, all those debates about theology and Greek, were missing something very important: the risk taken by an alcoholic when wine is served. Some people are very sophisticated about it all, and pooh-pooh that risk, but it is a risk. If we serve wine, we are saying to a recovering alcoholic that their problem isn't important to us. We do not make them welcome at the Lord's Table. The very idea, gives me a chill. Paul wants us to understand that even though eating meat sacrificed to idols was not a sin, if doing so caused confusion and pain to a new believer, the more experienced believer must not do it. The second principle that Barclay takes from the passage is "nothing ought to be judged solely from the point of view of knowledge; everything ought to be judged from the point of view of love." If we rely only on our minds, many things that should be done never would be done. Let's face it, doing the right thing is seldom logical. I read a wonderful analogy about this in Homiletics Magazine: "Paul's ethic calls all Christians to use their hearts as a mode of knowledge. This doesn't mean just dribbling a sugary-sweet emotional glaze over the top of cold, hard knowledge. [A friend of mine called that 'sloppy agape.'] It means learning to trust love as a mode of knowledge itself…getting the heart back in touch with our senses. We are used to thinking of our five senses as ways of knowing-telling us about physical 'facts' that surround us. Something feels hot, smells good, sounds crunchy-soft, looks like a fresh-baked bread, and tastes wonderful-therefore, we know about the bread. "But there is more to bread than that-and our heart knows it. Coming home to hot bread on a cold day is comforting, satisfying, reassuring and loving. We know this about bread because our heart processes all the information available to it both from inside and outside the body. This is heartfelt love as a mode of knowledge."[Robert Sardello, "Love as a Mode of Knowledge," Revision 15 (1992):64-70, as quoted in Homiletics, 1/30/1994] Bread is at the center of the Lord's Supper. It speaks to us beyond our simple intellectual knowing. In the bread we know our Savior. A minister asked a little girl if she attended Sunday school regularly. When she said she did, the pastor asked, "Do you know what's in your Bible?" "Sure," she replied. "My sister's boyfriend's picture is in it; my mother's recipe is in it, and a lock of my baby hair is in it." That child knew what was in the Bible. Of course, the Bible holds knowledge of God, but it also holds love-God's love shared in the love for a boyfriend, a treasured recipe, and a baby's lock of hair. There is one more principle that Barclay finds in Paul's words to the wise: "No one has a right to indulge in a pleasure or to demand a liberty which may be the ruination of someone else." We probably hear this and think of all kinds of things we don't do-sinful things. You can fill in the list of all those bad things you don't do, but I'm more concerned that we recognize the things we do that can bring ruination to each other. The late Carl Jung had a favorite story about a village in China that had been suffering a great and protracted drought. The people waited, then went through their various rituals and incantations to bring the rain, but nothing seemed to work. Finally, a group of elders in the little village sent away some many miles for a famous rainmaker. They waited anxiously for his arrival. Many days later, they saw two men appear on the horizon, carrying an old, shriveled man on a modest litter. They brought him into the village and set him down. The little man got down out of his litter, looked around and sniffed. The elders came to him and said, "What can we do for you?" The old man said, "I will need a little house out of town where I can be by myself in silence." So they gave him a house, and he went there by himself. The hours went by-two hours, three hours. In the third hour, it began to sprinkle, then it began to rain, then it began to pour. Crops that had been parched were now fed. Seeds that had not germinated were born. The people went to him and said, "What did you do?" They had expected him to come down into their village and perform public rituals and incantations, but he had not. The old man said, "When I came into your village and got down out of my litter, all I could feel was contention, chaos and resentment. I had to get away to pray and be in touch with God." This is the house of the Lord. Here we may have differences, but we are called to choose the loving way through them, otherwise we might find ourselves or someone else separated from God. We can do that to each other. We can cause each other to stumble in faith, but when we do that we are not faithful to God for the central, shocking reality is that Christianity is based on God's gracious love. Having embraced us in gracious love, God expects us to share it with each other and with all his children. We gather together to be fed at the Lord's Table. In Christ, we are a family. We need to help each other so that everyone can get to the Table. Amen.