Earth Day

Wednesday, February 5, 2020

Fourth Sunday after Epiphany, "Preaching Christ crucified to the upwardly mobile," February 2, 2020


A Epiphany 4 BFC 2020
1 Corinthians 1:18-31
February 2, 2020

          Especially for Paul’s letter to the churches in Corinth for today, we need to know some of the historical matrix or context, to get an idea for the genius and beauty of the apostle Paul and his writing.  So . . . once again . . . Mike Mulberry as Biblical geek appears.
The ancient Greek city of Corinth was destroyed by Roman forces in 146 BCE, and then re-founded as a Roman colony by Julius Caesar a little over one hundred years later, in the year 44 BCE.  Connections with the Greek culture remained, but the new organization of Corinth was thoroughly Roman—its architecture, political structures, and social institutions reflected Roman loyalties.  Wealthy elites, who also functioned as priests for the Roman emperor worship, created and maintained the religious festivals and sacrifices.  Their purpose was to foster a sense of cohesion and belonging across lines by involving people of every level of society in these rituals.  For many people living in Corinth, these festivals and sacrifices may have been the only time when they tasted meat—at the annual festival in honor of Caesar.
          Upon being rebuilt, Corinth rapidly became a center of seaborne commerce and the gate to the east for Rome’s trade and business.  As a result, a multicultural dynamic developed in the city, with Roman colonization resulting in the import of peoples from all over the known world.    Thus, in Corinth, lived an expanding population that existed without social and cultural roots and a lack of a widespread tradition.  What held all this multiculturalism together, then, was a Roman imperial society that involved a gaping gulf between a tiny percentage of ruling elites and the rest of the population. 
Less than 3% of the wealthy minority lived in luxury in cities like Corinth.  Around 90% of the people in the Roman Empire lived just above, just at, or just below subsistence level.  The Roman Empire was a slave society.  Slaves were so inexpensive that slave ownership went far down the social scale.  It is estimated that slaves may have made up as much as 1/3 of the population and another third of the population were people who had been somehow been released from slave status.  Slaves were “animate tools,” nonpersons, with no legal rights, and permanently designated as dishonorable.  Some slaves were better off than others, but all slaves were marginal, having experienced a “connection death” in relation to family, society, and the cultural identity of their origins.  Besides being socially dishonored, slaves were routinely subjected to physical and sexual abuse.
In Corinth, with so much of the population being the descendants of slaves, a desire for social status was likely a prominent part of the value system that permeated their culture.  One strong indicator of this quest for social status was a society of freed slaves called the Augustales, (hear the ode to Caesar Augustus in that title, August, the One to be worshipped).  The Augustales were societies, political associations, of freed men and women dedicated to the cultivation of Emperor worship.  Their inscriptions are found all over ancient excavations of the city of Corinth.[1]
These Augustales were probably organized into a common Greek word used throughout the New Testament, a word commonly used for political organizations.   These political organizations were considered to be the governing assemblies of free citizens in a city.  Varieties of groups used this Greek word for political organizations to represent a gathered assembly.  The Jewish people commonly used this word to refer to a local group organized as a synagogue—an assembly of the Israelites.  The Greek word used is ekklesia, and for centuries upon centuries, we have commonly interpreted that word as “church” in the New Testament.
It is into this culture and climate that the apostle Paul writes probably some of the most well-known and most beautiful prose known in Christian faith to these political organizations in Corinth, these ekklesias.  As the Corinthians struggle to relate to one another out of their social status, pyramid climbing, the person who baptized by them, or through their spiritual gifts, Paul confounds their desire for social status by offering an image and a reality which turns the pyramid upside-down. 
Rome intended crucifixions to be the most disparaging, dishonorable, disgusting way to die possible.  Crucifixions were intended to send public ripples throughout the empire to pull the rug out from underneath any rebellions or revolutions.  As theologian Matt J. Rossano said, “Crucifixion was public torture designed to pound home an unambiguous message: Don't mess with Rome.”[2]  Crucifixions are a consistent reminder that the first thing that empires do to peoples who resist or rebel is to try and divide them in fear, competition, or individualism so that they might be slowly drained of their collective power.   If that fails, we will kill your leaders and all of the followers we can find in the most excruciating death possible.
It is to say to the wider populace, “You are first and foremost a Roman citizen.”  It is to say, “By any other cultural definition, you are a nobody.  And, if you think you are somebody by any other cultural identification, Rome will reinforce your nobody status by crucifying you in a heartbeat, particularly if you do it as an organized group.”
But . . . but . . . I believe, in a move of spiritual genius, this is the image Paul uses to define his ministry—we preach Christ crucified.  He owns what it means to be a nobody.  Paul preaches a fundamental disarming and disabling to the Corinthian quest for upward social mobility.    Paul wants the Corinthians to be known (best Ricardo Montalban accent) not for the supple feel of their Corinthian leather, but by the hard work they do to build community.    And that Greek word used in first century Rome for political associations that we now translate as church, ekklesia, becomes defined by Paul as people who come from diverse places in the world, from diverse social strata, from diverse baptisms, and with diverse gifts to become one in Christ crucified.  Christ crucified is a reminder that if we follow in God’s way our badge of honor may be that the wider culture rejects and reviles us.
Pete Seeger, the wonderful folk singer, died six years ago at the age of 94.  Seeger was huge in so many movements to bring people together in this country, routinely blessing the nobodies, and bringing forward words and music to attempt to build a lasting peace in our communities, in our country, and in our world.  In keeping with Seeger’s character, much of his famous music came to be through collaboration and community-making.  Seeger wrote the first few verses to “Where have all the flowers gone?” after reading words from a Russian poet.  The final verses were put together by an Oberlin college student who figured the verses out at summer camp.     Seeger sang “We Shall Overcome” to Dr. Martin Luther King, who thought it was a tune that really stayed with you.  Seeger discovered that the song, “We Will Overcome”, was one done by United Mine Workers in the early 1900s and probably was a derivative of the old gospel tune, “I Will Overcome.”  Every Pete Seeger song seems to have a history like this, ancient truths sung with a slight change in words or a new melody to make them true and real for a new day.
Near the end of his life, Seeger would regularly sing Yip Harburg’s beautiful song from The Wizard of Oz, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” along with his audiences.  He would brief the audience, letting them know he was changing two words.  Seeger told it this way: 

But near the end — I do this whenever I sing the song — I say, "There’s two more short lines to this song, but I have to change two words." And I look heavenward and say, "Somewhere up there I can hear Yip saying, 'Pete, you can fool around with your old folk songs, but don't you touch "Over the Rainbow," please.’ Yip, wherever you are, I got to change two words 'cause if I'd been there when little Dorothy said, 'Why can't I?’ I’d tell her, 'You know why you can't, Dorothy? Because you only ask for yourself. You’ve got to ask for everybody, because either we’re all going to make it over that rainbow, or nobody’s going to make it.’ And so, sing it, 'If plucky little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow, why can't you and I?'" And the whole crowd sings these slightly different words. It's beautiful. And, of course, that’s the story of Noah’s Ark and the rainbow. I’m sure Yip was thinking of that.

This world will survive when we learn how to coexist. Okay, we disagree. You like to eat this way, and I like to eat that way. You like to dance that way. I like to dance this way. You think of this word meaning such and such. I use the same word, but I’m thinking of something different. But if we learn the lesson of the rainbow, we will be here a hundred years from now.[3]

          In contrast to what was taught in churches for years, that the early church leaders all agreed with one another in some glorious monolithic unity, walking hand in hand with little to no conflict, what we are discovering more and more are the arguments among early political association leaders (ahem), church leaders and the diversity found in the early Christian Church.  If that early Christian Church was to survive and thrive, they had to find ways to come together from a beautiful and glorious diversity.  For there are forever ladder climbers, pundits, and people who talk about the glory of being baptized by Mike Mulberry, rather than some other pastor schmuck, to show their spiritual superiority.  No?  Nobody glories in a Mulberry baptism?  Ok, maybe not, but there certainly is a bastardized form of the gospel which is always telling us who goes to hell and who does not, who is first and who is last, and who belongs and who does not, who was baptized by Mike Mulberry and who was not.  For Paul and for the crucified Christ, it was never just about churches or political associations—it was about the world--who receives healing in health care and whether we are willing to share our bread to feed the crowd.  Blessed are the crucified, the nobodies, to own that to build community with one another. 
Pete Seeger said it best in one of his final interviews.     

 I honestly believe that the future is going to be millions of little things saving us. I imagine a big seesaw, and at one end of this seesaw is on the ground with a basket half-full of big rocks in it. The other end of the seesaw is up in the air. It’s got a basket one-quarter full of sand. And some of us got teaspoons, and we’re trying to fill up sand. A lot of people are laughing at us, and they say, "Ah, people like you have been trying to do that for thousands of years, and it’s leaking out as fast as you’re putting it in." But we’re saying, "We’re getting more people with teaspoons all the time." And we think, "One of these years, you’ll see that whole seesaw go zooop in the other direction." And people will say, "Gee, how did it happen so suddenly?" Us and all our little teaspoons. Now granted, we’ve got to keep putting it in, because if we don’t keep putting teaspoons in, it will leak out, and the rocks will go back down again. Who knows?[4]

          Who does know?  Today, I believe, the letter from the apostle Paul invites us to pick up our hammers and teaspoons so that we all might get over the rainbow.  You and I. 
Today we say farewell to one of our dear brothers in Christ, a person who has been making coffee, playing in bells, cleaning, leading the bell choir, teaching Our Whole Lives, overseeing our finances, saying “yes” to so many ministries, doing so many other things, and, finally, leading out our church.  For many years, Aaron Blakeslee embodied what it meant to live in community at Billings First Congregational Church.  I was honored to be pastored by him, loved by him, and he was the first person who told my daughter she was loved at this church.  Sadly, it is time to say farewell to this beloved disciple of Christ.    


[1] Ray Pickett, “Conflicts at Corinth,” A People’s History of Christianity  (Minneapolis:  Augsburg Fortress Press, 2005) ed. By Richard A. Horsley, pp. 117-120.
[2] Matt J. Rosano, “Why Was Jesus Crucified?” HuffPost Religion, April 2, 2011.  http://www.huffingtonpost.com/matt-j-rossano/why-was-jesus-crucified_b_842509.html
[3] “We Shall Overcome:  An Hour with Legendary Singer and Activist, Pete Seeger,” Democracy Now!, July 4, 2007.  http://www.democracynow.org/2007/7/4/we_shall_overcome_an_hour_with
[4] “Pete Seeger on Democracy Now!” Democracy Now!, January 31, 2014, http://www.democracynow.org/special/pete_seeger_on_democracy_now

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