1 Corinthians 12:1-11
I Come Bringing Gifts, says the Spirit
James Sledge January
17, 2016
When
I was in high school, I briefly went out with a girl whose religious background
was a bit more fundamentalist and Pentecostal than mine. At first I found the
differences novel and even exciting. Raised a staid Presbyterian, a bit of
religious enthusiasm was a refreshing change of pace. But eventually the
novelty wore off for me, in part because of episodes like this one I’m going to
share.
We
once attended a late night worship service. I can’t recall exactly what the
occasion was, but the service featured the Lord’s Supper with a twist I’d never
encountered. We came forward to receive communion, but not by rows. The pastor
told us to wait until we felt the presence of God, until the Spirit urged us to
come forward.
I
waited. I hoped for some tug on my heart, some stirring in my soul that would draw
me to the table. But as time passed, and as I heard people moving around me, I
began to check on other folks’ progress. I was in no rush, but as more and more
people went forward and no spiritual fire, or even warmth, came over me, I
began to worry.
I
waited some more. I was a novice at this and wasn’t overly clear on just how it
was supposed to work. I increased my concentration and tried to heighten my
inner attentiveness. But another glance made it clear I was in danger of being
the very last person to go forward, and so I got up and went to the table.
Afterwards,
I wondered about all those who went to the table ahead of me. Were they tuned
to a divine frequency that I did not know how to access, or was it something
else? I wondered how many people went forward for the same reason I did,
because they didn’t want to be left out?
I
was suspicious that there had to be a great deal of the latter, and I think the
episode left me with a fair amount of skepticism, even cynicism regarding
spiritual experience. Better to stick with a faith that could be worked out via
reason and scholarship. Turned out I was a lot more comfortable being a staid,
keep-it-all-in-the-head, Presbyterian.
It
was many years before I had anything like the spiritual experience I had hoped
for at that late-night communion service. God does tug at the heart. The Spirit
has stirred my soul and warmed, even enflamed my heart at times. But it does
not happen on command, and the Spirit is as likely to surprise me as to follow
the formula I expect.
But
we religious people like to codify things. Sometimes we do so for good reasons
such as helping newcomers discover ways to be open to God; other times it’s simply
to keep things neat and under our control. For Presbyterians this has tended to
be about making faith a head thing, a logical, understanding thing. For
Pentecostals and others, the focus has been more on the heart. But for all, it
is clear how things work, and regulars quickly learn what sort of behaviors are
normative, what things signify that you are a proper person of faith.
Nothing
new there. Paul is dealing with issues of what sort of faith experience is
proper and marks someone as the real thing when he writes to his congregation
in Corinth. The big difference for the Corinthians is that they live in a day
before denominations and different worship styles. They’re the only Christian
gathering in town. If you don’t like things there, you don’t have other
options. And for whatever reason, the folks in Corinth not only want you to
feel God’s presence, they expect you to speak in tongues to show that your
faith is of much consequence. - - - I
wonder how many Corinthian Christians pretended to speak in tongues so as not
to get left out.
Even
though Paul is addressing behaviors many of us have never seen, much less
aspire to, his words speak to just about any sort of spiritual or religious arrogance.
If you imagine that the particular spiritual or religious activity that
animates you is essential, says Paul, you’ve misunderstood the whole business.
Paul
goes on to insist that if you can truly claim Jesus as Lord (I’m pretty sure
Paul means living it rather than just mouthing the words.) then the Holy Spirit
is at work in you.
And
as for spiritual gifts, says Paul, don’t go thinking yours is better than
someone else’s. I should add here that when Paul speaks of spiritual gifts, he
is not talking about innate talents or abilities. If you are a musician, that
is indeed a wonderful gift from God but not a spiritual gift, at least not
unless you suddenly became musical when the Spirit came upon you. Paul is
talking about gifts that arise because that the Spirit is at work in people, and
these gifts are allotted for “the common good,” and not to make anyone feel
spiritually mature or superior.
I
wonder if Martin Luther King, Jr. had been reading Paul when he wrote these
famous lines. "Everybody can be great, because anybody can serve. You
don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't have to make your
subject and verb agree to serve. You only need a heart full of grace. A soul
generated by love." Or as Paul puts it, “To each is given the
manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.”
What gifts has the Spirit bestowed on
you? If you have even an inkling of faith, the Spirit is at work in you, and so
the Spirit is trying to use you to play some crucial role as a part of the body
of Christ. It may or may not be the gift you were hoping for or one that will get
you any sort of acclaim, but it does make you great in the sense Martin Luther King uses the word. It does make
you an essential part of Christ’s body that needs you to do your part to build
up the beloved community and continue Christ’s ministry in the world.
____________________________________________________________________________
Each
year as the Martin Luther King holiday approaches, I wonder about how I should
take note of if in worship. This year as I wondered I found myself looking at
various photos and videos of the Selma to Montgomery march. There were actually
three marches early in 1965, with the Bloody Sunday march prompting the larger
marches that followed.
When
you look at the images, there are well known faces, King, John Lewis, and
others. But most faces are unknown. The crowds are largely African American
with lots of young people and college students. And there are average folks who
were somehow stirred to join, to take big risks to help change the world and build
God’s beloved community.
The
Civil Rights movement could not have happened without King and Lewis and other
leaders. It needed the musicians and stars who lent their support. But it could
never have happened without all those students and average folks who were
spurred to do their part. In fact, I wonder if they weren’t the most essential
of all.
All
those students and young faces in the Selma marches highlights a spiritual
openness that sometimes seems more prevalent in the young. As we get older we
tend to get more invested in how things are. Religious folks get invested in
how their tradition understands faith to work, how it expects the Spirit to
move or not move. We get encrusted in our habits and practices, in all the
things we treasure and must protect, in the need for control, in the layers of
skepticism and cynicism that can build up over the years.
But
if, in some way, we can proclaim, “Jesus is Lord,” then the Holy Spirit is
within us, the Spirit that blows where it will, the Spirit that our faith
statement says inspired the prophets and
apostles… gives us courage to pray
without ceasing… to unmask idolatries in Church and culture… and to work with
others for justice, freedom, and peace.[1]
“To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit
for the common good,” writes Paul. How has the Spirit gifted you? How are
we called to work together to be Christ for the world?
[1]
From A Brief Statement of Faith, The Book
of Confession: The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)
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