“Sometimes, Telling the Ending Doesn’t Spoil the Mystery” 1 Corinthians 2: 1-16 Sermon Preached by the Reverend Dr. Howard W. Boswell, Jr. Fifth Sunday after Epiphany, February 9, 2014 Kenmore Presbyterian Church Kenmore, New York I love mysteries. I blame Alan, a friend in fourth grade. He introduced me to Sherlock Holmes and I was hooked. While they aren’t always great literature, I like mysteries, because we see wrongs righted and criminal brought to justice by the last page. My love for mysteries has another origin. I had a great aunt, my mother’s mother’s sister, named Violet. Despite my mom’s desire that she treat my brothers and me the same, I was Aunt Violet’s favorite. Aunt Violet loved mysteries, too. She would let me watch detective shows, The Twilight Zone, and Alfred Hitchcock Presents. I think she introduced me to movies with Charlie Chan and Sherlock Holmes. However, Aunt Violet had one bad habit: When she read a mystery, she would skip to the last page to find out who done it! In life, we encounter many mysteries. Apart from some scientific research, no one can really explain how two people fall in love. Despite books and articles that suggest what happens after we die, no one really can say what occurs with absolute certainty. Tragically, we cannot explain why evil exists, why accidents and some illnesses happen. No matter how hard we try to skip to the end, we cannot peek at the last page to see how it all turns out, most of the time. Yet, now and then, we get a peek at the final scene. Sometimes, telling the ending doesn’t spoil the mystery, because the ending may be the mystery. When Paul begins to reminisce about how he came to the Corinthians, he remembers how he did not preach the mystery of God to them “in lofty words or wisdom.” He gives away the ending when he says he came to witness to one thing, “Jesus Christ, and him crucified.” For, you see, the mystery of God is not some secret truth that God leaves until the final page, because God’s Word is not about what we know, but who we know and who knows us. Now, that word, “mystery” may not be the right word. If you look at the bottom of page 146 in the pew Bibles, you will find footnote k that says, “Other ancient authorities read testimony.” It means some Greek versions of 1Corinthians say “musterion” or “mystery, but others say “marturion” or “testimony.” Some scholars prefer one over the other. Most translations go with “mystery,” which would be my preference. Yet, when all is said and done, it may mean about the same thing. Paul testifies to the mystery of God’s mercy revealed in the Cross. Whenever Paul preached, he turned off some people. In 2 Corinthians, Paul even shares their critique: While he may write well, Paul’s isn’t much to listen to or look at. Paul found himself up against an expectation set by Greek culture. People expected to be impressed by how speakers spoke, by how they persuaded people of their position. Yet, Paul wasn’t impressive in that way and he knew it. In fact, he says he came to the Corinthians, “in weakness and in fear and in much trembling.” He did not come with credible wisdom or convincing arguments. Instead, he kept his preaching to one point, “Jesus Christ, and him crucified.” He let God show them this message with the Spirit and with power, so that their faith “might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God.” You and I live in a world where persuasion rules. While how a person speaks may not matter as much as it did in Paul’s day, how someone appears appeals to us. For us, image is everything. Madison Avenue knows it; Hollywood knows it; and Washington, D.C. knows it. Even the news may be more about image than facts. I wish religion was immune to the worship of image, but it is not. People expect spiritual leaders to present a perfect picture. We want them to be sure of themselves; to use the latest techniques; and to say what we want to hear. Of course, there lies the problem. Sometimes, we need leaders to speak the truth, which may not be what we want to hear. Sometimes, the latest techniques may overtake the message. Sometimes, we aren’t sure of ourselves or perfect. Yet, I will be honest with you: When it comes to spiritual leaders who impress me, I appreciate those who are humble and not so full of themselves. To tell the truth, those who come across otherwise make me nervous. Within the church, regardless of where we stand on the theological spectrum, there’s something missing. You may remember back at the beginning of November, I quoted an article by Billy Graham’s grandson, Tullian Tchividjian, “The Missing Message in Today’s Church.” In it, he agrees with CNN’s Rachel Held Evans, when she suggest today’s church may focus too much on how we reach people and not enough on what we offer them. Too many churches make Christianity a matter of being good, a self-help program in which every day in every way, we’re getting better and better. Instead, Tchividjian concludes, “It is high time for the church to remind our broken and burned out world that the Gospel of Jesus Christ is a one-way declaration that because Jesus was strong for you, you’re free to be weak; because Jesus won for you, you’re free to lose; because Jesus succeeded for you, you’re free to fail.” For me, Tchividjian’s statement lies at the heart of what we believe. God doesn’t save us, because we’re good enough. God doesn’t save us, because we’re smart enough. We don’t need to acquire some secret spiritual knowledge or worldly wisdom. Instead, we need to know “Jesus Christ, and him crucified.” We need to share with others this amazing mystery of mercy. We need to witness to them of this grace. Now when it came to mysteries, my parents didn’t like surprise endings. They had little patience when it came to the twist, which many mysteries have. When they watched a mystery on television, they would often say, “Is that how that darned thing ends?” We may feel that way when we read to the end of 1 Corinthians 2. Verses six through sixteen seem to contradict the first five verses. By 1 Corinthians 2:5, we may feel as if Paul thinks the gospel is easy peasy. Yet, nothing could be further from the truth. According to some scholars, in 1 Corinthians 2:6-16, Paul uses irony, which many of us may miss, because it depends on telling all the truth, but telling it slant, as Emily Dickinson said. Paul approaches sarcasm as he addresses the Corinthians. He says something like, “Oh, I know my opponents claim they are wise, but I have wisdom of which they have no clue. It’s not the cool reason of the Greeks. It’s not the love of legal minutiae of the Jews. It’s not the grasp of power politics of the Romans. I possess God’s wisdom.” Paul speaks of things that we cannot comprehend with worldly wisdom. He talks of a wisdom that possesses us, rather than one that we possess. It may be hard to understand exactly what Paul means, but let me give it a try. Consider a couple, who fall in love. Every day, they grow in knowledge and appreciation of one another. In the best cases, this growth never ends. Paul speaks of wisdom like that. It’s not a body of knowledge we master; it’s a wisdom who masters us. Every day, we grow in knowledge and appreciation of this one, but that growth never ends. Paul calls it “the mind of Christ,” which means all we do and all we say seeks to do his will, offers him glory, and loves other as he loves us. I wish it were easier, but it’s not. We are about to sing a hymn, which sing speaks about what, rather who needs to be at the center of our lives and our life together. While our hymnal does not have it, it was in The Hymnbook, the red hymnal with which I grew up. Above all the wisdom we may possess, it says, “Ask ye what great thing I know That delights and stirs me so? What the high reward I win? Whose the name I glory in? Jesus Christ, the Crucified.” Let us pray: All too often, Lord, we allow style to overshadow substance. We make your simple mystery to be shared with all into a secret to be known only by a few. We make an easy testimony into a difficult system of truth very few can grasp. Forgive us, God, for forgetting your wisdom, made plain on the Cross, which witnesses to the wideness of your mercy and the greatness of our need. Help us to rely on you, so that when someone asks us what great thing we know, we may reply, “Jesus Christ, the Crucified.” We offer this prayer in his name. Amen. ©2014 Howard W. Boswell, Jr.
Posted on: Thu, 06 Feb 2014 16:05:11 +0000
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