What does God require of the Church? What are the

responsibilities—the duties—of Christian disciples

living in community?

As a second semester freshman in college twentytwo years ago, I had the opportunity to take a course

on the life and letters of the Apostle Paul. The course

was taught by E.P. Sanders, the professor who

would become my academic advisor in the religion

department. And it was one of those educational

experiences that moved from the informative to the

transformative, the beginning of a long journey with

Paul’s Letters, a journey that has been core to my call

to ministry.

Professor Sanders, who died last November, was

a legendary New Testament scholar and a brilliant

teacher. Raised a Southern Baptist in Texas, he referred

to himself as a “secularized Protestant.” Our study of

Paul was undertaken through the lens of historical

critical study and academic rigor, not faith formation.

And yet, here’s what happened. We were nearing the

end of First Corinthians, and in a departure from his

usual pedagogy, Professor Sanders began to read out

loud from the thirteenth chapter. And, as he did, the

words caught in his throat. He became noticeably,

uncomfortably emotional. He paused before

continuing. After finishing the chapter, he closed

his Bible, looked up, and addressed the classroom

of students before him, saying, “If Paul had written

nothing else, his importance would be well-deserved.”

Class dismissed. It was a moment I will never forget.

What was it that struck him that day reading this

passage of scripture?

If you are at all familiar with the thirteenth chapter of

First Corinthians, chances are that’s because of its

common use as a reading at weddings. The poetic

refrain, the beauty of the words, the emphasis on love,

make it an obvious choice for such an occasion. But

these verses have a context of their own. Paul was

not a wedding poet. He was an apostle. He did not

write for isolated couples but for whole communities.

And so, in memory of Professor Sanders, I hope you’ll

permit me a few moments of exegetical extravagance

this morning. Or perhaps better put, pure geekery.

First Corinthians is a letter addressed to a

congregation filled with people Paul already knew.

This is important. It’s a church that Paul founded, a

congregation he loved. It’s also a church struggling

to remember its identity. Though the specific topics

raised in the letter are not those we might name as

pressing, the core concern remains as timely as ever.

It is this: the church has become bitterly divided.

Paul, as any pastor would, urges unity. But the unity

to which Paul calls the Corinthians is not a watereddown sameness that drains the substance from their

convictions. It is a unity born of the conviction that

the Church of Jesus Christ is one Church, that division

disfigures Christ’s body, prevents us from pursuing

our purpose.

In the tenth chapter of the letter, Paul addresses

the question about eating food from animals that

have been sacrificed to idol gods. Now, this would

have been an especially important matter in a city

like Corinth. You see, many of those who had joined

the Church, the Christian movement, had formerly

worshiped and offered sacrifices to a wide variety

of diverse gods. Some who had made this dramatic

theological shift from idol worship to the worship of

God did not stop attending the festivals and feasts

where meat sacrificed to idols was eaten. After all,

what difference did it make? The idols are not really

gods, and, by the way, the meat was delicious. It

would have been a rare delicacy in the ancient world.

To eat meat offered to idols or not. That was the question.

Paul responds in an interesting way. He agrees with

the premise of those who thought eating the meat

was no big deal. He even quotes them. “All things

are lawful.” But that is far too low a bar for life in

Christian community. And so, Paul continues, “All

things are lawful, but not all things are beneficial…

not all things build up.” And then, this zinger. I wish he

hadn’t written it, but he did. “Do not seek your own

advantage, but that of the other.” Ahhh…so it’s not

about the existence of idols or what’s on the menu. It’s

about how we care for each other. If, by eating meat

offered in idol sacrifice, you run the risk of leading

others astray, you should refrain. Not because of the

law, but because of love.

In chapter eleven, Paul returns to that core issue

of division, and this time over worship. Did you

know that congregations can become divided over

worship? Well, it seems that the Corinthians have

designed a kind of carefully arranged tiered approach

to the celebration of the Lord’s Supper. Here’s how it

worked: The wealthy and the prominent arrive early,

where they enjoy their exclusive fellowship and the

best meal without telling the others the start time.

And then, when the rest of the community shows

up, the good food is all gone. The early arrivers, well

they are well-fed and, yes, a little tipsy. Paul is furious.

What you are eating is not the Lord’s Supper. Why

not? Because Christ’s table is for all. Paul directs the

Corinthians, “When you come together to eat, wait

for one another.” If everyone is not welcome, you’ve

missed the point.

In chapter twelve Paul beautifully describes the

variety of spiritual gifts that exist in the Corinthian

community, each one given and activated by God.

But Paul is aware that the church has given in to the

temptation of ranking the gifts of the Spirit, creating a

hierarchy of membership. In response, Paul employs

his favorite image for the Church: “You are the body

of Christ, and individually members of it.” As with the

human body, Paul writes, each part of our fellowship

has a unique and indispensable role to play, a

distinctive contribution to make. We need each other

to be the community God intends us to be, just as our

body needs all of its parts to function properly. But

then Paul takes this one step further, moving from

symbiotic coexistence to radical inclusion. Paul writes,

“The members of the body that seem to be weaker

are indispensable.” Paul writes, “God has so arranged

the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior

member.”

Friends, consider this: that life in Christian community

is not about equality—everybody getting the same

thing. It is about compassion—those who need more

should receive more. It’s about going out of your way

to lift another up. It’s about making sacrifices to care

for each other. Again, Paul has a pithy conclusion,

writing, “If one member suffers, if any among you is

suffering, all suffer together.” Listen. Life in Christian

community cannot be primarily about what is best for

me. God requires more of us than that.

And so, chapter twelve ends with a promise. “I will

show you a still more excellent way.” These are the

words that introduce the passage that brought my

brilliant professor to the brink of tears.

Yes, the topic is love, but I’m convinced that, for Paul,

love is always grounded in responsibility, sacrifice.

Though the English translation unfortunately obscures

this reality, in verses four through eight, love is the

subject of sixteen consecutive verbs. When we

set this passage in its context, we are able to hear

something deeper than the syrupy sentimentality

that has plagued this greatest hit from Paul. The love

described here takes work. It’s hard. It stretches us

beyond our comfort zone and self-interest. Yes, to

a divided community of Christian believers, Paul

commends the kind of love that is prepared to yield

for the good of another, a love that does not insist

on its own way, a love that practices patience and

forgiveness, a love that never ends because it never

stops pushing us toward that still more excellent way.

When all is said and done, we will be measured not

by our accomplishments, titles achieved, positions

held, or even our spiritual gifts. We will be measured

by how well we have loved. Yes, when all is said and

done, a church will not be measured by the size of its

budget or the beauty of its building, the orthodoxy

of its theology, or the purity of its people. We will

be measured by how much of God’s love we have

poured back into the world. And so, it is more than

a shame—it is a heresy—when congregations and

denominations divide into factions that use scripture

as a weapon in those battles.

It’s all about love. A love that looks to the needs of

others before our own. A love that challenges our

preconceived notions. A love that values the image of

God in each other more than any obsession over who

is right and who is wrong. If Paul were writing today, I

am convinced that while the topics may be different,

the message would be the same. Love, love, love is

what God requires of the Church.

When hate is loud, love must not be silent. When

messages described as “Christian” only further the

divisions among us, foster the resentment between us,

or enable our judgement of one another, we cannot sit

idly by or slip into vapid sentimentality. We must be clear

that the love Paul commands looks first to the wellbeing

of those on the outside. Clothed with greater honor. We

must be clear, when there are voices spewing exclusion

and hatred, that the voice of love says no. The grace of

God extends to all, or it is not God’s grace. The table of

the Lord belongs to all, or it is not the Lord’s table. And

so must our message of welcome as a church. If our

theology, if your theology, allows you to condemn any

other while congratulating yourself, it is not Gospel.

Will you allow the love of God to break open the

closed places in your heart? Will you embrace the

responsibility of Christian love? Will you practice

patience, seek reconciliation, extend compassion,

walk with humility, pursue a still more excellent way?

Friends, this is the ultimate measure of our faith. It is

the core of our common call.

And so, please don’t waste your life on anything less.

You will regret it when your days come to an end.

It’s all about love. Love God. Love one another.

It’s all about love. In words and in actions.

It’s all about love. Love one another. Not some, but all.

It’s all about love. Love one another. That’s what God

requires of us.

Paul was right. Without love, we are nothing. Amen