Paul or Apollos? Wonderful Diversity or Shameful Disunity?

Our Old Testament reading from Micah reminds us that God has every reason to be displeased with us. If we could take seriously the fact that all of us, every single one of us, is as guilty as hell then I wonder if we would still find it in us to argue amongst ourselves.

The Gospel is God’s word in which he bestows wonderful freedom and blessings on us. But receiving the Gospel should also put to death the idea that we, us humans are of ourselves righteous. It should produce in us such humility, such gratitude that we stand together united in our guilt. Whatever the degree of superiority whether physical, intellectual or moral that one human being has over another it is as nothing compared to the degree of difference that there is between perfect God and sinful man.

But it hasn’t turned out like that has it? Even in Biblical times, among disciples who had known Jesus in his earthly ministry there was division, boasting and score settling. The Early Church that Paul raised up was itself beset with division and it’s been like that ever since.

So we can’t be satisfied that Christians do not all worship together in unity and friendship. But there again, I have to say that in some respects I am glad of the division that currently exists.

If it had not been for the fact that there is division and disunity in the church I don’t think I would have become a Christian (or rather become again a Christian). If I had not discovered that there are many Christians, including ordained ministers, who do not believe that homosexuality is a sin then I would have remained in a state of spiritual conflict and poverty – attracted to Christ but repelled by the seeming homophobia of the Bible and of the Church.

In this respect, at least, I’m very grateful for the current division that exists. There are no end of issues on which Christians are split and lets face it, our inability to agree has been a feature of the church since the time of Jesus.

Personally I can’t make sense of my faith without putting myself on one side or another of a load of controversies. I’m Protestant rather than Roman Catholic or Orthodox and I’m Reformed rather than Lutheran. These are differences that really matter to me. I could not be part of a church that has a priesthood and prays to Mary, and I couldn’t worship in a fellowship that expects me to condemn homosexuals.

So in one way I’m glad that there are these disagreements that produce different churches and different theologies. After all, if there were only one church how likely is it that it would be to my liking? Or more to the point how sure could I be that I would be to its liking?

And yet these words of Paul, addressing divisions in a church that he himself had founded
should make us uneasy about the division that is part and parcel of Christianity and always has been.

‘Are you not mere men?’ he asks of the quarreling Corinthians, making it clear that division and dispute do not come from God but from us. It is clear evidence that we are ‘still worldly’

Wouldn’t it be good if we could be more honest with ourselves and each other about the source of our division. On questions of human sexuality we are in a bad habit of claiming that our opponents are simply disobeying God. On both sides of the debate we too often talk about our opponents as though they are simply ignorant and prejudiced. As Professor Robin Gill, my tutor at University of Kent at Canterbury put it once ‘The older generation think it’s just about sex, the younger generation think it’s just about homophobia’

As a mere man let me make it clear that the views I subscribe to, whether on the subject of sexuality or the sacraments, on confession or consubstantiation are the views of human beings. They are not God’s opinions, they are human opinions of what God’s opinions are.

Since we are trying to match our opinions with God’s the debate is very important – given what is at stake it ought to be heated and highly charged. But at the end of it I have to say that although this is what I believe to be true – I could be wrong!

I ought to be able to say this and so should anyone else in the debate. It doesn’t mean that we really give even an inch as far as arguing our case is concerned. But it does mean that we respect the integrity of our opponents. Because, as Paul makes clear, we are all motivated by Christ – not by an idea of Christ but by the living, risen Christ.

Paul certainly doesn’t make our differences of no account. In other epistles he is knee deep in theological disuptes and in verse 10 he says ‘By the grace God has given me, I laid a foundation as an expert builder, and someone else is building on it. But each one should be careful how he builds.' And he goes on to talk about the consequences of both good and bad theology.
So the argument is important, for Paul and for us, too important to leave out of politeness. But there is something even more important that we should all bear in mind:

What, after all, is Apollos? And what is Paul? Only servants, through whom you came to believe— as the Lord has assigned to each his task.
I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow.

This means, I believe that all of us who claim to be Christians possess our faith by the will of God. The direction and the expression that this leads to can be a matter for the most intense debate and disagreement but we must never forget that the faith that is in each one of us, motivating us within the debate is from God almighty.

The metaphor of the seed and the gardener is brilliant. Planting a seed, watering it, are all important even necessary acts – but to compare the gardener with the creator would be absurd.
Theologians should have the same humility about what they are capable of. The Gospel is not an idea that originates in the minds of humans no matter how brilliant they might be. The task of the theologian, like the gardener, is to harness and tend to the creative act for which they claim no authorship or credit.

Controversial right-wing MP Enoch Powell was once asked if he was a Christian and he replied that he was an Anglican. But are you a Christian? The interviewer persisted. I’m an Anglican he replied again. From the other political wing Clare Short once described herself as an ethnic catholic. Both these politicians were describing, honestly, the fact that they wished to belong even though they didn’t really believe.

We who claim to believe should make sure that our belonging doesn’t overtake our believing. Some years back I realised that I found it easier to tell people that I was a member of a particular church than to say that I was a Christian.

I was exactly the sort of person Paul was talking to in this epistle. I was giving more credence to the things of men than the things of God.

To define yourself as a protestant or a catholic, as an evangelical or a liberal, as traditional or modern, is to give yourself a human label. Yes these labels are important because we are sincerely striving to be as close to what we, with our limited human intelligence and wisdom, consider to be God’s truth. But this label must always be secondary. First and foremost we must be labeled as Christians.

We are Christians because we are attracted to, devoted to, united to Jesus Christ. When you call yourself a Christian you’re making no reference to what human beings have said and done.
We would do well, all of us, to take heed of the last 3 verses in this reading.

So then, no more boasting about men! All things are yours,
whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas or the world or life or death or the present or the future— all are yours, and you are of Christ, and Christ is of God.