Rev. Eugene N. Nelson, Jr.
The Community Church of Sebastopol
July 19, 2009
1 Corinthians 9:19-23
“Well, to tell you the truth, I wasn’t too sure about Gene’s sermon today. Sure sounded like he was trying awfully hard to be all things to all people.” “You know, I really like Kristen. I just wish she wouldn’t try so hard to be all things to all people.” I wonder how she would feel if that was said about her? I wonder how would I feel? It’s not a horrible criticism, but it’s not exactly a compliment either. It makes you sound like good old wishy-washy Charlie Brown, like someone who can’t or won’t take a stand or make a decision, who is more concerned about pleasing people than being honest with people, who doesn’t seem to know what he thinks. Imagine if, this past week, when asked about her judicial philosophy, Judge Sonia Sotomayor, had said, “Senator, what most motivates me and my decisions is the desire to be all things to all people.” Even the Democrats on the Judicial Committee would have winced at that one. “He/she is someone who tries to be all things to all people.” Not exactly words of praise or admiration. Not a quality one would highlight on a resume.
It is a phrase we all know, a phrase we probably have used. But until today did you know that is it a phrase that originated with the Apostle Paul? “To the Jews I become as a Jew…to those under the law, I become as one under the law…to the weak I become weak…I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some.” Paul, who no one would ever mistake as wishy-washy or afraid to take a stand, admitting that in his ministry, more than once, he has tried to be all things to all people. What could he possibly be talking about?
A story told by Fred Craddock: “I once preached at a little church in South Carolina, way down in Carolina low country. Near the church was an old cemetery. I was reading the markers in this cemetery. I wanted to see how old some of the graves were, and I found one section with a huge stone bearing the family name and a lot of burial plots that stretched out for some distance. In this large family section, there was a most unusual thing. All the graves were lined up. There were small graves for infants and children, and there were adult graves, quite a few of them. But there was one grave where the marker and the slab indicated that the grave was at a right angle. All the other graves were lined up in a row, but this one grave was cross-wise or ‘catawampus’ as we used to say. At that angle, it actually took up three burial plots. I pondered that. What a careless thing to do. Why would they do that?”
“Suddenly I became aware that I was not alone. Another man was walking around in the cemetery. ‘Are you from around here?’ I asked.
“ ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘you’re looking that that grave aren’t you?’
“ ‘Yes I am.’
“ ‘I knew that fellow. We were in the same church. I knew him well, knew him all my life.’
“I asked, ‘Why this burial at an angle?’
“ ‘Well, the family wanted it that way.’
“ ‘But why?’
“ ‘Because that is the kind of guy he was. He was crossways with everybody and everything. We never knew him to be pleased with anything at home or at the church. ‘Well, why is she doing that?’ he’d say, or ‘Whose decision was that?’ or “He’s the wrong one to be doing this.’ He said that kind of stuff, all the time. The family decided that they wouldn’t try to change him just because he was dead, so they buried him crosswise.’”
“ ‘That was an awful thing to do,’ I said.
“ ‘They wanted it to be a witness,’ he replied. ‘The family said that if God wants to straighten him out, then God can straighten him out. But he left this earth just how he lived.’”
Could this story be an illustration of what Paul is talking about? Do we let little differences come between us? Do we pick at each other, complain about each other, criticize each other, judge each other to the point where we are crosswise with each other? Things can be going so well - the church, the family, the relationship, functioning with love and understanding, and then it all falls apart when I get on your case because you don’t do something the way I think you should.
We must never forget that Paul was writing to churches, not individuals. And the growth and health of Christian communities was always his primary concern. “I am all things to all people.” Could this be an appeal for more sensitivity, more understanding, a suggestion that we do not have to draw a line in the sand over every little issue that comes up in our shared life? At times when I think you are weak, maybe I just need to allow you to be weak, even to acknowledge my own weakness. A little tolerance, a little respect, a little willingness to walk a mile in your shoes, a little humility about my own shortcomings before I judge you too harshly…could this be what Paul means when he speaks of himself as being all things to all people? Could be…or could he have something else in mind, something broader, more encompassing than our behavior toward each other in community? Could he perhaps be talking about outreach, about how we relate to the world outside the church, how we live and share our faith?
Some of the folks who went on our recent adult mission trip to Indiana have told me they found an interesting church culture in the Terre Haute area where they stayed and worked. Not exactly West County, they said. A lot more churches and a lot more fundamentalist, theologically conservative churches. One night they were hosted for dinner by the pastor of the Hebrew Pentecostal Church. I’ve never heard of it. Joyce Cox wondered if it might be the only one of its kind in the country – an interesting combination of Christian and Jewish traditions and symbols inside the church. And the pastor of that church was not shy about sharing his rather rigid Biblical theology, which is all right – that’s one reason we go on mission trips, to find out how different people are thinking. All the world isn’t Sebastopol. It was all right; until one night during dinner, he launched into a condemnation of homosexuality, right there at dinner, with these UCC folks from Northern California. What are you going to do? He knew the truth, the only correct Christian position on this issue, and didn’t really care what anyone else thought or who that might hurt. He didn’t know the make up of our group. I have to wonder if this kind of narrow, divisive, judgmental, intolerant, maybe even rude faith might be precisely the issue Paul is addressing in this text.
“To the Jews I become as a Jew…to those under the law I became as one under the law…to those outside the law, I became as one outside the law…to the weak, I became weak….I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some. I do it all for the sake of the Gospel…” Paul, as we know, was a man of strong values, strong opinions and strong beliefs, none of which he was ever shy about sharing. And he believed that in Christ he was free – free of the restraints of the Jewish law, free of the restraints imposed by Rome. And yet, in this text he says he is willing to give up that freedom, not insist on his own way, his own truth, if that can enable him to share and advance the Gospel of Christ. Is he being wishy-washy? Or is he demonstrating a willingness to meet and engage people where they are, where he finds them – not judge them, but engage them. To Jews, still under the law, he will honor the law. To Gentiles outside the law, he will not insist they submit to the law. To the weak, perhaps those struggling with faith, not sure what direction to take, he states a willingness to walk with them in their weakness, to accommodate their uncertainties. Is Paul hopelessly compromising his values, his identity, the very beliefs that make him who he is? Or does do this because he sees the bigger picture, is able to take a long-term view, understands you cannot force feed faith.
I recall a story told about St. Francis of Assisi. One day he invited a young monk to join him on a trip into town to preach. The young man was honored to get such an invitation and he quickly accepted. All day long he and St. Francis walked through the streets and byways, alleys and suburbs, talking and rubbing shoulders with dozens of people. At the end of the day, the two headed back home. But the young monk found himself greatly disappointed with the day. For not once had St. Francis addressed a crowd or even talked to a single individual about the Gospel. Finally he said, "I thought we were going into town to preach.” St. Francis responded, “My son, we have preached. We were preaching while we were walking. We were seen by many and our behavior was closely watched. It is of no use to walk anywhere to preach unless we preach everywhere as we walk!” You might say, in his own way, St. Francis was being all things to all people, modeling the gospel in all he said and did, in his love and acceptance of the people around him. Not beating people over the head with the Gospel, but meeting them were they were and embodying the Gospel in his life. That’s what Paul is talking about.
I like to speak of this church, many of us like to speak of this church, as a community. But that isn’t quite enough. We are not just another community. We are a community of faith-keepers, a community where we seek to live and to share the good news of Jesus Christ. Now how do we do that? Well, certainly in our life together. We embody the idea of a faith-keeping community in how we genuinely care for each other, welcome diversity, encourage openness and affirm creativity, and hold each other in a gentle, caring, sharing, honest and compassionate love that bridges differences of race, identity, ethnicity, religion, gender, sexual orientation, or anything else that tends to divide the world around us.
But there is more. There’s also our faith. In the words of Steve Sterner, one of the leaders of the national United Church of Christ, “We must learn the stories of our faith. We must learn how to articulate them. We must wrestle with them. We do not have to accept them unequivocally, but we must know them. We must learn to keep that faith. But we also understand, as one of our Pilgrim ancestors pointed out, there is yet more light and truth to break forth from God’s word. So, even though we have a faith to keep, we have a faith that we’re still seeking, that is yet unfolding before us…We believe in a living faith. We believe that God is still alive. And if God is still alive, there’s still more to come. To be open to experiencing that newness, that continuing expression of God’s presence among us is what it means to be a seeker, to hold in balance that faith we have inherited and that faith that we will bequeath to our children.” We must have the humility to understand that no one church or religion can capture God and make God prisoner of a particular set of beliefs…or political or social agendas.
Does this mean we will retreat from our deepest held values? No way. But, says Paul, when you engage each other and the world, don’t get bogged down by a bunch of doctrines and rules and traditions and legalisms that are just going to separate and divide you from each other. Loosen up people! God is bigger than our experience, our words, our descriptions or even our cherished orthodoxies. We must have the humility to understand that no one church or religion can capture God and make God a prisoner of a particular set of beliefs or even of a certain political or social agenda. And so, our task is not to promote right doctrine but to share a vision, a vitality, an energy, an openness, a zest, an expectation, a joy at the evolving newness of God’s world as it unfolds around us every day. This is the good news God wants brought to God’s world. Paul knew this, and I commend such openness of spirit to this church and indeed to each one of us.