Sermon
When my brother was a young adult he bought a used car. A Plymouth or Mercury something maybe. I asked him what it looked like. I think I only knew one car by name, so I asked, does it look anything like a Valiant? Well sort of, he said. The first thing you need to do is picture something not like a Valiant. In other words, the car you know? – think of anything that is NOT that car.
I feel like Paul is saying the same thing about the message of the cross, or the wisdom or word of the cross. It's as if Paul is saying, “What do I mean by the wisdom of the cross? Well, start with “wisdom” as you know it, and think of something not like that.”
The text is pretty clear what wisdom is not – it's not power, human strength, noble birth, or riches. Even the word Paul used in his letter, is “logos.” One commentator writes, “For Jews, the logos was the law and Wisdom. For Greeks, the logos signified the reason behind the cosmic order and the advances of philosophy in understanding that order.” “This 'logos of the cross' constitutes a contradiction in terms offensive both to the reasoned and to the religious mind.”
We could do a 52 week worship series called Contradictions. Jesus' life and message is full of opposites. The last shall be first. The weak shall be strong. The King is a baby born in a manger. The dead shall live. “God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are.” Paul tells us that the wisdom of God, is to be found in the life and death and resurrection of God with us, Jesus. Which seems foolish to us.
The culture in Corinth at the time was much like our own in that our culture too, always wants someone to be better, bigger, stronger, more powerful, richer, more, more, more. Last week we read how Paul took the Corinthians to task for dividing themselves according to the house of Apollos or the house of Cephas and others, thereby setting up a hierarchy for themselves. My baptism was better than yours!
It's who you associate with, who you know that defines your greatness. Every kid these days knows that. You have to hang with the cool kids or your life is over. And tragically, nowadays, that belief can lead to just that. Adults have a hard time shedding that belief too. We are all adults. We have seen that comparison happening. We have made those comparisons too. We used to use the word simple to negatively define someone who wasn't as smart as someone else. Even throughout the history of music, as instruments were invented that were bigger, made larger sounds, composers found a greater range of expression and symphonic sound was bigger and bigger for a while. More sound isn't always better. I know that it's physically much harder to restrain yourself and play something long and quiet than it is to just blast. Even Gandalf knew this when Bilbo was given his sword, Sting. Gandalf told him that as tempting as it was to wield the sword, his strength would show not when he used it, but when he didn't use it. Power restrained is sometimes more powerful than power with force. I used to try to convince my nephew that restraint was valuable when we were at Giants games, and Joe Panik was up to bat and the Giants were down, and you just know he wanted to swing the heck out of the bat and clobber the ball! But the strength it takes to not swing is what makes great players.
Sports, music, The Hobbit, adults, teenagers, politicians, the Corinthians – what does all this have to do with us?
They all represent ways in which we try our best to be wise, and yet often fail. Paul would tell us that we're trying all wrong. Our criteria for wisdom is misguided. But if we use the contradiction that is Jesus' death on a cross as our criteria, we will be closer to the goal.
The goal of true compassion, true kindness, true partners in society.
On the back of the bulletin there is a drawing of a cross, smashing the word wisdom. I invite you to do two things. First, write a word or a phrase near the word wisdom that represents some conventional wisdom that you hold to be true. Second, write a word or phrase near the cross that represents a part of your faith that challenges that wisdom, breaks it apart, smashes it.
For example, when I'm having a conversation with someone and they don't see things my way, I think that if I can just say the right thing or explain it better, they will see my way. In other words, more words! Near the word wisdom I might write, “more!” I am reminded often though that Jesus was a great listener. Jesus wanted people to hear him and know his message but he often just listened to them. My faith then as well as personal experience reminds me that it doesn't always work to keep talking when I'm having a discussion with someone who doesn't see things my way. Rather than think I should keep talking and keep explaining, I might write “restraint!” or “less!”
The bible is full of stories where conventional wisdom was challenged and the new decision turned out to be the one that brought the desired outcome. Barbara Brown Taylor wrote about this in her book “Home By Another Way.” Wherever you want to be, maybe there's another way to get there. It is risky to choose another way. I think the wisdom of the cross, and the life Jesus calls us to is nothing if not risky.
Let's pray.