1 Corinthians 2:1-12, (13-16)

The 2nd chapter of the first letter to the Corinthian church makes Paul’s final point in his three-fold case for being committed to the foolishness of the cross instead of the whims of power, prestige, and wealth that Roman society had conditioned the Corinthians to value as ultimate (2:1-5). His last point here revolves around his own example of what a life lived for Christ looks like—though, he is excessively intentional to emphasize that Christ, not Paul, is the one who deserves the credit for his own cruciform example. Additionally, and in conclusion of his argument that following Christ whole-heartedly will mend the fractures in the Corinthian congregation, he reminds them that Spirit continues to reveal to us God’s self, and that this fact should inspire confidence.  

As Paul holds himself up as the ideal which ought to be emulated, he paradoxically employs a self-defacing rhetoric. He tells them that he is no man of lofty station or flowery words—which, as many know is not entirely true; Paul was thoroughly and formerly trained as a Pharisee, a station that was revered among 1st century Jews. Despite he insists that he came and spoke to them plainly, and not as one who had the answers but one which stood in awe in the mystery of God in Christ. Once more, he is telling them that what is most value is not what Rome values but what God values. Rhetoric and pleasantries are not the ideal in the eyes of the Lord, Paul claims, as he himself is engaged in skilled rhetoric (ha!). Instead, there is one goal which ought to be sought as individuals and as a community: as Christians, we are to proclaim by word and deed Christ crucified. This message is offense to the gentiles and stumbling block to the Jews; it is a claim that simultaneously rejects Roman values. In such a message, it is claimed that what the world sees as weakness is, in fact, strength. Yet, this truth is kept from those who are not blessed by the wisdom of God. 

After properly debasing himself, Paul credits the revelation of God in Christ as an indication that new age that is coming, and an old age is coming to pass. Again, just like Augustine and Cavanaugh from my previous post, Paul sets up dichotomies of a reality ruled by the spirit of the world and reality ruled by the Spirit of God (2:12). In Paul’s view, it is only through the Spirit of God that believers can come to understand the gift of Christ and its subsequent affects upon a world that is already becoming new. Therefore, it also only by Spirit-filled teaching and speaking that Christ is glorified. This kind of speaking in teaching is oppositional to the teaching and speaking that is lauded by the world. For Paul, the Spirit is what gives life to the congregation, Christ crucified can only be proclaimed by the Spirit, and that same proclamation can only be received by the Spirit (2:13-15). When Christ is proclaimed and understood in such a way, the church possesses the mind of Christ (2:16).  

In our current context, one cannot help but wonder if this sort of language is even helpful. Does this rhetoric not simply add to the already overly-politicized polarized conception of the world vs. the church? I want to press back on Paul a little here—not because he is not helpful to his original audience, but because what is needed today, I believe, is less assuredness and more ambiguity in our ideological and political positions. And, I believe that there are theological grounds for this claim. Paul’s antiquated address, luckily, is not the only resource we have for engaging a fractured church body that is many ways is representative of a fractured world. After all, he is only a voice in the great theological conversation, not the voice. 

Reinhold Niebuhr is another voice in our Christian tradition, and since Wesleyans weigh scripture, experience, tradition, and reason equally in our efforts to be disciples of Christ, I want to juxtapose his dialectic view of democracy and religion against Paul’s spirit of the world and Spirit of God. Unlike Paul’s writings above, Niebuhr leaves ample space for play between the world and the religious sphere.

Niebuhr, being a modern thinker, held a much less apocalyptic view of the world and church than Paul. Instead of establishing those categories as completely separate, he presents a dialectical relationship of justice as seen by the world and Augustine’s notion of love (agape) in order to suggest we assume a disposition of Christian realism in relation to our democratic political-economy.[1] For Niebuhr, the purpose of the church, or religion, is to move group politics towards a mutuality of agapic love, while the state’s purpose is to protect that mutuality from fallen humanity’s inclination toward self-interest—a disposition that can easily bring a person to place their love of self over the love of the other.[2] Thus he writes, “all systems, rules, and governing social relations are on the one hand instruments of mutuality and community; and…on the other hand approximations of, and positive contradictions to, the ideal of [true] brotherhood.”[3] Like Paul, Niebuhr understands that all things in this world exist to ideally serve God but often do not meet that purpose. However, Niebuhr also sees the relationship between the world and the Christian as interdependent. He understands that democracy and plurality are ideals easily corrupted due to the depravity of humankind, but are also ideals which can better the common good. Thus, he concludes, the state system that upholds justice must be influenced by religion so that it is used for the mutual edification of the collective whole, instead of used by self-interested groups to complete their agendas.[4]

This week, play with the idea of a Niebuhr/Paul cocktail. That is, what might it look like to be in the Spirit, while participating and cultivating in certain values claimed by the “world” that in truth are good; e.g., democracy, liberalism, ecological efforts, and notions of plurality are often compatible with the Gospel, although they are “of the world.” What does it look like to have both hope in the world, while still maintaining a healthy suspicion of it? What might a Christian realism look like today with these two views in mind? [1] Reinhold Niebuhr, “Democracy,” Reinhold Niebuhr: Theologian of Public Life (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1991), 254. [2] Melissa Snarr, “Reforming the State: Christian Realism” (Vanderbilt University, Nashville TN), February 18th 2015. Lecture. [3] Ibid. [4] Niebuhr, “Democracy,” Reinhold Niebuhr: Theologian of Public Life, 255.