Category: Blog

I am struck by Paul’s appeal to the Corinthian church in 1 Corinthians 1: they are all to agree with one another; there are to be no divisions among them, and they are to be perfectly united in mind and thought (1 Corinthians 1:10-11). Why is Paul making this appeal?

It has come to Paul’s attention that there is quarreling among the Corinthians based on growing factions. Some wear Paul’s brand, others Apollos’ brand, others Cephas’ brand, and still others Christ’s supposed brand (1 Corinthians 1:11-12). The Corinthian church has lost sight of Christ’s supremacy and the call to swear ultimate allegiance to him. Everyone is subject to him.

“Why is Christ supreme?”, someone might ask. Paul’s answer: Christ is not divided. Christ was crucified for them, not Paul. They were baptized into Christ’s name, not Paul’s (1 Corinthians 1:13). Christ’s blood is thicker than their factions resulting from Christian celebrity brands.

We divide Christ when we make him one of many competing Christian brands. We dishonor him when we place our boast in anything or anyone but him. After all, Christ’s blood is thicker than brand.

Have Christian celebrities (Paul, Apollos, Cephas, or someone else) suffered the humiliation of crucifixion, bled and died to take away our sins? Have we entered the church through baptism in their name? Of course not. But then, why do we do it—boast in others rather than Christ, and so divide and dishonor him?

Ultimately, it is bound up with the foolishness of not finding Christ most attractive. It is bound up with not seeing how fickle and fleeting brands are: here today and gone tomorrow or sometime down the road. In contrast, Christ and his shed blood’s imprint last forever—they’re thick, not thin.

Still, competition for religious market shares weighs heavily on us today. We feel the pressure of finding our worth and significance in relation to how many fans we have and how many seats are filled. All of us struggle in this regard. Will we ever be immune to such fantasies that bewitch us in view of the serpent’s cunning? (2Corinthians 11:1-4) How will we ever be truly concerned for the common good within the church and outside the church if what drives us is not our uncommon God revealed in Jesus and the affection that flows from him?

How can we work to build unity in view of Paul’s exhortation and example?

First, compare the incomparable Christ favorably to oneself, as Paul does. He does not go after Peter or Apollos and leave himself out of the picture. Rather, Paul tells everyone, including the Paul faction, that his brand is not worth anything in comparison with Christ and his shed blood. Christ alone is worthy of our ultimate affection and allegiance: Who else is so true? Who else loves so purely? In view of Paul, we should compare Christ favorably to ourselves. After all, we pale in comparison. Moreover, we should not demean other leaders to promote Christ and oneself. Please note that Paul does challenge the super apostle celebrities in his day (2 Corinthians 11:5); however, Paul was not trying to elevate himself, but to win the Corinthians hearts back to him as their spiritual father so as to nurture them to adulthood in Christ (2 Corinthians 11:1-15). The super apostles, not to be confused with Cephas or Apollos, had no inclination in this regard. They were not concerned for Christ, but for themselves. Paul wanted the Corinthians to follow his example as a faithful witness to Christ (1 Corinthians 11:1), not to follow him and become his fan. How did Paul try to win the Corinthian church back to Christ? By reminding them of his own resume in service to Christ and them. Please note that the resume he shares is not one filled with celebrity accolades, but with his sufferings for Christ and for them (2 Corinthians 11:16-33). Paul’s posture was one of suffering on behalf of Christ and the Corinthian Christians, not one of lording it over them, as was the case with the super apostles (2 Corinthians 11:20-21). Paul shared his sufferings and weaknesses with them so as to soften and break their hard hearts and win them back to Christ. Paul’s aim was to magnify Christ’s power and wisdom through his own weakness and foolishness demonstrated out of his love for Christ and them (2 Corinthians 11-12).

Second, connect everyone in the church to Christ. After all, Christ is not divided (1 Corinthians 1:13). All who are Christians have Christ in common. As much as is biblically possible, find points of harmony and agreement. Focus on what we share in common in Christ as revealed in the Bible, while not discounting important differences. While this is often easier said than done, we must make Christ the main thing and bring his supremacy to bear on everything that divides us. Everything else pales in comparison. Keep in mind that 1 Corinthians 15’s presentation of Jesus’ person and work is central to Paul’s understanding of the gospel, and should be ours as well. See also 2 Corinthians 11:4 about the preaching of other Christs and other spirits and other gospels than the Jesus, Spirit and gospel proclaimed by Paul and the apostolic community, including Cephas and Apollos.

Third, cling to the content of Christ, not cleverness. Paul did not cling to wisdom and eloquence, though he was a profoundly wise man and a master of rhetoric, as displayed in his arguments against fleshly thought forms and trickery set forth in 1 and 2Corinthians. Christian fan clubs are built around personalities, not the person and work of Christ and his call to carry our crosses and follow him. I surely hope I am not Christ’s fan, but rather his servant follower. It is one thing to follow someone on Twitter or Facebook, quite another to follow Christ. Arguments empty of Christ’s cross (1 Corinthians 1:17) are empty of his power and wisdom (1 Corinthians 1:17-31). How empty are we, no matter how full of ourselves we might be? Let’s move beyond boasting in brands to boasting in Christ and his blood:  Therefore, as it is written: “Let the one who boasts boast in the Lord”(1 Corinthians 1:31).

This piece is cross-posted at Patheos and The Christian Post. Comments made here are not monitored. To join the conversation, please comment on this post at Patheos.

President Obama has indicated that the credibility of America’s Congress and the international community is on the line concerning how to respond to the reports of Syria’s use of chemical weapons on its citizens. While that may be true, I wonder if our credibility would increase if the United States and other countries with chemical weapons would dispose of them fully.

As President Obama highlighted, the international community has deemed “abhorrent” the use of chemical weapons. What about our own possession of chemical weapons? While America has disposed of 90% of its own chemical weapons, 10% still remains (See the reference to this percentage in a recent Guardian article). Going further, what about our stockpile of nuclear weapons? For all our concerns over other countries having or attaining nuclear weapons, the U.S. is the only country to have used nuclear warheads in battle.

Have you seen the movie, John Q, starring Denzel Washington and Robert Duvall? The movie is about a man (Denzel Washington) who is down on his luck, whose little boy needs a heart transplant, and his insurance company won’t cover the operation. In his desperate situation, he takes desperate action and takes hostage a hospital emergency room until the doctors perform the operation.

While some may find the story far-fetched, John Q does raise far-reaching questions bearing on health care reform. Questions that arise include: How accessible was the necessary healthcare to the boy and his family? How affordable was the healthcare to the boy and his family and to the American taxpayers at large, who may have ended up having to pay the bill since the boy’s family’s insurance company wouldn’t cover the cost of the operation? And how did the situation bear upon public health in our country (if the boy had died, how would his loss have impacted not only his family but the public at large)?

Do you think we could all agree that we all want more accessible healthcare, more affordable healthcare, and better public health? Are we individually and collectively entitled to these three values? Could we ever realize these values as a society? Do we have examples elsewhere in the world where all three are attained?

One of the public health concerns I have today is that we need to cultivate an open, healthy conversation as the American public on healthcare reform, not try to shoot down one another’s positions, but seek to find a way to work together to attain all three values: more accessible healthcare, more affordable healthcare, and better public health. On October 19, The Institute for the Theology of Culture: New Wine, New Wineskins will host a conference on healthcare to do exactly that. We invite you to join us for open conversation, learning about the healthcare needs of our community and efforts to address them. Register for the conference before October 1 to take advantage of early bird rates (just $20 for general public and only $5 for students!). Hope to see you there!

This piece is cross-posted at Patheos and The Christian Post. Comments made here are not monitored. To join the conversation, please comment on this post at Patheos.

I was pondering why hipsters in Portland drink Pabst Blue Ribbon, when they live in the microbrew capitol of the world. Some Portland pubs actually make a big thing of promoting PBR. One friend informed me that it is hard to find lagers in Portland, and so some resort to PBR: they like the taste and that it’s cheap. Another friend told me that hipsters drink PBR because it’s ironic. “Ironic?” I asked. The answer I got was that hipsters drink it (at least some of them) because it carries no meaning except to counter normal expectations and aspirations and because they’re cynical.

I wondered if Nietzsche would roll over in his grave if he were to see that implicit nihilism (which he tried to guard against) and cynicism have led many of Portland’s hipsters in their irony to drink PBR. Even the thought of drinking PBR might lead other Portlanders to nihilism. Those advocating for providence might encourage these hipsters to consider Portland’s vast array of microbrews, claiming that such divine nectar shows us there is a benevolent God in the universe!

Is it ironic that a blog titled “Uncommon God, Common Good” would address the theme of beer? There is no irony for those who come to terms with the fact that God created the world good and preserves it from ruin, granting it freedom within the limits of divine love so that it can achieve its fullness in relation to God. The divine benevolence is not limited to what goes on inside church walls. It extends to pubs, art galleries, concert halls, markets, and homes. The God of the Bible does not envy humanity’s celebration of earthly life in its various complexities and simplicities, whether we are talking about microbrews, Mike’s Hard Lemonade, or just plain old lemonade. Rather, the God of the Bible preserves space for the free exercise of our creatureliness. We don’t have to bracket off an uncommon God from the common good or the common things of life. In fact, out of concern for the common good, this God preserves space for the celebration of the common.

As I write elsewhere, building on Karl Barth’s doctrine of divine providence:

“The creature is granted freedom ‘within the limits marked off for it’ for the exercising of its existence.[1]  In view of the divine preserving of the creature, ‘God does not begrudge . . . or deprive’ the creature its situated freedom within which to act.  Indeed, ‘there is a delighting or sport in which first the Creator and then the creature has a part.’[2]  In light of this preservation of the actuality and activity of the creature,

Man goeth forth unto his work and to his labour until the evening” (Ps. 104:23); to which it belongs that he can use his senses and understanding to perceive that two and two make four, and to write poetry, and to think, and to make music, and to eat and drink and to be filled with joy and often with sorrow, and to love and sometimes to hate, and to be young and to grow old, and all within his own experience and activity, affirming it not as half a man but as a whole man, with head uplifted, and the heart free and the conscience at rest: “O Lord, how manifold are thy works” (Ps. 104:24).  It is only the heathen gods who envy man.  The true God, who is unconditionally the Lord, allows him to be the thing for which He created him.[3]

The God revealed in Jesus Christ does not begrudge or envy us. Rather, he who turned water into wine at the wedding celebration in Cana of Galilee, and so revealed his glory (a foretaste of things to come; John 2:1-11), turns to us again and again to bring divine meaning and purpose out of the ordinary things of life. In view of the revelation of this uncommon God, we can approach concern for the common good and all matters common and uncommon, “not with naïve optimism or scathing pessimism, but with boundless hope, based not on culture’s achievements, but in view of culture’s goal, when the redeeming Word of eschatological promise renews the world.”[4]

If Portland’s hipsters insist on drinking PBR, may it not be based on nihilism or cynicism and pessimism (and certainly not based on naïve optimism). May it be because they find here evidence that divine providence can bring joy to people even through the most common and ordinary things of life.

This piece is cross-posted at Patheos and The Christian Post. Comments made here are not monitored. To join the conversation, please comment on this post at Patheos.