Epiphany 3 Year A

I belong to Paul; I belong to Apollos; I belong to Kephas. This morning’s reading from the first letter to the Corinthians comes at the end of the week of prayer for Christian Unity and is often read through that lens. Preachers reassure us that whatever the disputes and divisions between the churches today, there’s nothing new in that. From the very earliest days of the church, there was division. We might be encouraged to explore and celebrate what we have in common rather than what divides us. But if we’re honest, those divisions have probably become more significant than they were in years gone by. Perhaps, one might dare to suggest, diversity within churches is to be welcomed rather than feared. Christian unity in the 21st century may be more about mutual respect and understanding than a move towards homogeneity.

Where or to whom to you belong? I want to suggest this morning that the majority of us have a desire to belong, usually in various networks. Think for a moment about creating an invitation list for a special birthday. At some point you are likely to wonder whether the friends from dance class will get on with the people from book group or church. Never mind whether they will get on with your assorted relatives.
We are living through times that seem to bring into sharp focus the divisions across communities and between nations. What most of us understood to be the world order is no longer recognisable. We’re in uncharted waters. And one of the ways that we try to make sense of what we read and hear is to look for our tribe, to find those with whom we can identify and explore and perhaps even find some reasons for hope. That tribe may be political; it may be social; it may be spiritual. But I suggest that particularly in uncertain times the desire to belong somewhere, somehow, is very strong.

And, of course, the early church was living in uncertain times. People were finding their way into a post resurrection world; finding their way into a shared discourse that would take them, and their newly emerging faith, forward. They were finding the places where they could access teaching and nourishment and comfort. The places where they could safely explore what it meant to commit to following in the footsteps of Jesus and his disciples., especially when that brought challenge or risk.

Church may be one of the few places we choose to belong which encompasses people from a range of views and understandings. We won’t all agree with one another on the big, or small, questions of our day. We won’t all agree on how to read Scripture or even how to pray. But, on the whole, we try to listen and to honour the other, to make the space for difference. To recognise the integrity of those with whom we disagree, but alongside whom we worship.

I wonder whether those who identified themselves as belonging to Paul or Apollos or Kephas had found, at least temporarily, a group of people with whom to feel comfortable and accepted and perhaps even acceptable. Whether they had found a way to step aside from those who made then uncomfortable, to avoid the challenge of thinking in a different way about the things that mattered in their lives and their world.
Is that, perhaps, why Paul was expressing frustration with them? Closing down, choosing not to listen, rather than opening up and hearing others, isn’t a Gospel model. It’s a model that risks reinforcing where we are, encouraging us to become stuck, avoiding the challenge to grapple with big questions.

It’s a phenomenon that we see playing out on social media. The algorithms serve up more and more of the same, regardless of its value, making one particular voice or perspective louder than any other around, giving it weight and minimising the opportunity to hear other ways of thinking about our world.

But what we know from our lived experience is that different voices speak to us at different times in our lives. That’s as true of preachers as it is of novelists or journalists or composers.

There are times when we seek out that which will nourish us; times when we recognise that we need to be challenged; times when we want to be educated and times when we want to hear something that is familiar and perhaps reinforces our own understanding of the world. And none of those is forever. Following Christ is a journey, a lifelong journey that will see us belonging in different places and ways at different times. The where and how of that belonging may be less important than the constant thread that keeps Christ at the centre of all that we are and all that we do.

The more sharp-eared or biblically literate among us will have noticed that I haven’t yet considered the next phrase in the verse we’re exploring – or I belong to Christ. Some commentators suggest that this is Paul’s voice, responding to the situation he’s challenging. The suggestion is that Paul responds to what appears to be a number of factions, each one claiming a greater understanding of the truth, by trumping all of them – I belong to Christ.

Whether you’re persuaded by that reading of the text or not, it is certainly the case that the early church was Christ centred. Paul tries to get to the heart of the matter when he asks: has Christ been divided? He’s reminding them that whatever importance they place on differences between them, their unity is rooted in Christ. He is the source of all that is and all that will be. Our words are inconsequential compared to his words. Our tribes, however compelling and attractive, offer little in comparison with the saving grace that is offered when we find our identity in Christ. The message of the cross is the power of God. That’s what matters to Paul; that’s what should matter to us.

One of the ways that we are taught to become independent thinkers is to engage with discourse and particularly with ideas and texts with which we might disagree. Academic learning teaches us to read critically; to think critically; to interrogate what is put before us. And I would suggest that groups of Christians who are hearing different perspectives and finding a range of ways to hear and engage with the fundamentals of their faith are very well placed to do just that. Rather than be fearful of what others have to say or suggest, might we find ways to welcome the opportunity? Might we know God a little better if we dare to open ourselves to a different way of engaging with the sacred? If we dare to recognise the integrity of that other tribe, to open ourselves up to the possibility that they too know and attempt to honour something about the power of God.

We close ourselves down when we become fearful; fearful of the other, fearful of challenge, fearful of change. Our world may be changing but God is our constant. We belong to Christ.