There are many theories of Scriptural
inspiration . . . all the way from strict inerrancy—the position that the Bible
is accurate and totally free of error, that "Scripture in the original manuscripts
does not affirm anything that is contrary to fact,” to the neo-orthodox view of
Karl Barth and Emil Brunner that the Bible is "the word of God" but
not "the words of God" to
the view of some modern biblical scholars that the Bible is a record of human
interaction with the divine.
My own view lies somewhere in between
the neo-orthodox and extreme modernist views, but that it is inspired I am more certain as I read the Bible; Paul’s writings
are exhibit A in my mind. He’s a Jew
who may or may not have fallen off a donkey, who began planting Christian
communities all over the Middle East.
And this guy who never ran a congregation before, who was a legal
scholar, a Pharisee for St. Pete’s sake, is never short of incredibly acute when it comes to giving advice on
how to live as communities of Christ. Along
the way, he managed to articulate a theology—probably wholly
unintentionally—that today is the bed-rock of orthodox Christianity and, well:
if that’s not inspiration, I don’t know what is. Paul’s inspiration seems to have taken the
form of being given divine knowledge, perhaps directly by the Holy Spirit,
perhaps by his unique schooling and upbringing—and probably by both—that allowed him to speak with
great authority and value to communities struggling to be, well . . . Christian.
One of the central problems he seems
to have confronted in the churches he planted is a lack of unity. His communities were pulled first one way,
and then another, by various teachers espousing various schools of thought, and
this created division, which Paul firmly believed was injurious to the mission
of God. This problem, as you might
imagine, was about basic doctrine in those days: there was no orthodoxy, and it
is an abiding irony that Paul’s very attempts to deal with the divisions over
theology became the basis for orthodox theology.
The problems of Paul’s congregations with
disunity are very evident over in 1st Corinthians—which we’re
studying in Wednesday evening Bible study—where he says “I appeal to you, brothers
and sisters, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you be in
agreement and that there be no divisions among you . . .” In Philippians, the focus is also on unity,
and just as he does in Corinthians, he grounds his appeal in their common
identity as Christians: “If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any
consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy,”
he says, and he uses big, fat Christian buzzwords: encouragement, which can
also be translated as exhortation, consolation, love, sharing—koinonia, otherwise known as
fellowship—compassion, sympathy—all fruits of the Spirit—if there is any of this
in you all, then “be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full
accord and of one mind.”
And he clearly means to imply that if
they have these Christ-like qualities, they will be unified, but I think we can
draw another lesson from it as well: if Paul inevitably grounds unity in a
common calling in Christ—“Consider your own call,” Paul tells the Corinthians—is
it possible that it is a result of
that call? Further, does it follow that
the kind of unity Paul is talking about is possible only in communities that
are truly grounded in Christ?
One thing is certain: congregations
had as much trouble being unified back then as they do today. And for Paul, it isn’t an option: he uses the
imperative voice in Greek, the command voice: be of the same mind he says, he
is commanding them to be unified. In his
thinking, there is no choice.
He offers a
diagnosis as to why they might not be
unified, and for him, it all comes down
to a lack of humility. And I can sure
feature that . . . we seminary trained pastors can get the idea that we have the Word, implanted
in us, directly from God, and this can help create a certain . . . ego . . .
Then too, every time I read these
verses, I think of St. Benedict, and his Rule for living in community, written
five centuries after Christ. It’s the
most successful guide for living in Christian community ever written: the majority
of Christian monastics today live in some fashion according to the Rule. And in the Rule, it’s clear that Benedict has
read Paul, because he’s convinced that humility is essential to living in
Christian community. He devotes an entire
chapter to it, Chapter 7—the perfect number, right?—and in it he uses the
metaphor of a 12-step ladder to humility—get the other significant number?—and one rung on the ladder, one step to
humility—the seventh—is that one
should “not only claim to be beneath everyone else and worse than them, but
also be convinced of this deep in his heart.”
Sounds a lot like Paul’s advice to “regard others as better than
yourselves,” doesn’t it?
Before we overlay modern ideas of
self-esteem and shame and etc. upon Paul and Benedict, remember that for them,
this is very practical advice, for a very matter-of-fact purpose: the living out
of our vocation as children of God through Jesus Christ. It is not a psychological recommendation, but
a practical one: like love, regarding everyone as better than ourselves is action embodied. If one doesn’t insist on one’s own way of
doing things being the way of the entire group, or on one’s own theology being
the theology of the entire group, if one group doesn’t hold the entire
community hostage to its way of thinking, or hold its own programs above those
of other groups, that constitutes
regarding everyone as better than one’s self.
But you might be thinking: wait a
minute. Hold the phone: isn’t that a
call to regard the other as equal to
oneself, to regard her or his desires as equal
to one’s own, or another group’s place within the communities as equal to one’s own? Why is it couched in terms of
superiority? Why is it understood as
regarding the other as better than
one’s self? Well, there are two levels
of answer to that question. First Paul,
and Benedict after him, understood that only by subsuming one’s own ego—and thus
the collective ego of one’s particular faction or group—can true unity be
achieved. And why is that? Because only in that way can one avoid the concept
of “fairness” that ensnares so many within communities and indeed, any
relationship system—marriages, partnerships, legislatures, you name it. It’s the notion of “fairness”—and the
coincident idea that to be fair means that nobody should get more than is fair,
which is more than one’s own self is getting—that is at the root of
conflict. And conflict destroys
communities and, in Christian communities, their mission and witness to Christ.
The standard definition of
conflict—either between two people or between two factions—includes the idea
that the there is (a) a limited resource and (b) that you are in competition
with the “other side” for that resource. This
is central to the notion of conflict: the belief that the other side is in
competition for a resource that is perceived to be limited. It’s so basic that
a situation is only considered a conflict if it is present. Let me repeat that: a relationship between
two individuals or two groups of individuals is not considered a conflict unless the parties perceive that they are
in competition for a limited resource.
So now
do we get why Paul—and Benedict—considered the root of humility, and thus
community unity, to be that we regard others as better than our own self? Because only if one subsumes one’s own ego to
that of the other does it negate this notion of what is “fair” and its
consequential result of conflict. It
causes one to think of the needs of others in the community or in the relationship
rather than one’s own self.
And I confess that I am sometimes not
very good at this, I can think that everyone should view theology the same way
that I do, and that the notion of what is “fair”—in other words, the notion
that the other in a relationship can’t be allowed to get more than me, or do less than me (in that case, the limited
resource is free time)—this notion has led to conflict more times than I am
comfortable with.
And I also must note that the notion
that one must submit one’s own ego to that of another is particularly toxic when it’s applied unevenly, to one group over
another. That has been the case for
millennia when the notion is that women are the ones in a community—whether
it’s the community called a family or the body of Christ—that must surrender
their egos to those of the men. In fact,
this might be in part how the idea that
considering other’s needs before one’s own got such a bad name. If it is expected of one person or group of
persons and not everyone, it leads to oppression, domination, and hierarchy.
Well.
I said that there were two levels of understanding, two lines of
reasoning that led Paul to say “regard others as better than yourselves” and
“let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others.” It’s not just that it makes for
smooth-running, unified communities—though it does—it’s not just for practical
reasons—though it is. It is because
Christ is our example, our model, and
he demonstrated it, he led the way. And
to articulate that, Paul wrote some of the most iconic prose in the New
Testament, so important that it is one of the earliest creeds of the church,
earlier than the Apostle’s Creed, certainly earlier than the Nicene Creed . . .
we think the Christ hymn in verses five through eleven was one of the first
liturgies of the church, and it can’t be a coincidence that it’s about
humility.
Let the same mind be in you that was
in Christ Jesus, Paul says, “who, though he was in the form of God” though he
had the power and strength and very form
of the Creator of the Universe did not regard equality with that Creator as
something to be exploited, but emptied himself—of what? Of his power?
Of his wisdom? Of his god-hood?
–and took human form, the form of a slave, the most lowly thing that Paul’s
first century audience could think of, and being in that form, he humbled
himself—as if he were not humble enough already, being in the form of a slave—and
became obedient to the point of death, even a death so degrading and demeaning as death on a cross.
And we’ve come full-circle, back to
our discussion of inspiration, and where Paul got his overwhelming expertise in
managing communities of Christ: he got this expertise at least in part by following the example of the Son
of God, by using Christ as a model. We
often say being a Christian is being Christ-like, and Paul showed the way.
For millennia, Christian devotional
traditions have advocated meditating on various aspects of Christ’s life, and
especially the crucifixion . . . we speak of following the way of the cross, during Holy Week many churches
have the stations of the cross, all designed to focus our attention on Jesus’
death, where he valued our needs, our
lives above his own. And you’ll hear a
lot of preachers sat that this is so we’ll be grateful for all he went through,
but it’s for a very different reason as well.
We’re to contemplate the cross, think on it, meditate on it, pray on it,
so that the second half of Benedict’s rule comes true, that we not only profess
other peoples’ needs and wants superior to our own, but we come to believe it,
deep down in our hearts, and we can no more create conflict in the church than
we can hold our breaths forever.
So let’s
stand and say what we believe by singing the Christ hymn, reciting it from the
bulletin, contemplating the example of Christ, so that we might—someday, at
least—empty our own selves of rancor and jealousy and assumed superiority over
those with whom we are in community:
"We believe that Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death-- even death on a cross. Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord."
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