Christ Anglican Church
Ever becoming God's Word in practice.

Now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three, but the greatest of these is charity. [1 Corinthians 13:13]

 

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

We are reminded in the Collect for this day that God has taught us that all our doings are worthless without charity.  This teaching is delivered through Saint Paul in today’s Epistle, taken from his first letter to the Corinthian Christians.  In this letter, Paul was dealing with a congregation that not only had a great many talented and gifted members, but which also seems to have been graced with a surplus of what we might nowadays call “strong personalities.”  That being the case, the Devil had used a martial-arts style of attack on them – one that used their own strengths against them in the interests of dividing them and then defeating them in detail.  By the time Paul’s letter arrived, the results were certainly most pleasing to the attacker. 

Many, though probably not all and possibly not even most, of the members of the Corinthian church had become part of one or another faction.  If we read this letter in its entirety it is clear that each of these factions was focused on a particular person (Peter, Apollos, Paul, Christ himself) or on a particular practice (speaking in tongues, eating meat sacrificed to idols, marrying or not marrying) that was seen to be other than what it really was and consequently was valued more highly than it should have been.

Many of the Corinthian Christians had a serious deficit in the charity column.  The members of each faction evidently believed that their position was so supremely vital to the success and survival of the whole community that they were willing to achieve dominance for that view by whatever means necessary. In other words, they believed the good they were seeking justified whatever steps they chose to secure it.  The Corinthian factionalists were impatient with, easily offended by, jealous of, and unkind to those who were not of their party.  (Human nature being what it isn’t, that surely included the members of the self-consciously “non-partisan party” whose watchword was, “I belong to Christ.”)  It didn’t take much to get them stirred up.  They only affirmed and followed those apostolic teachings and teachers that suited their personal preferences and their factional agenda.  As a result, things weren’t working well for them in their interior life and so they were inclined to despair, which indicates that they also suffered from deficits in both the hope and the faith columns that inevitably led to behavior that was destructive both of those who despaired themselves and of those around them.

The fact is that, in each case, the factionalists actually had forgotten what the good they were supposed to seek really was.  They had gone from seeking communion with God in Christ through the Holy Spirit, which is the essence of the abundant and everlasting life of heaven, to seeking lesser goods that cannot last.  And because they had forgotten that primary goal, even those who had managed to avoid becoming part of one or another of the factions were suffering spiritually and the effectiveness, not to mention the durability, of the whole body was in serious doubt.  So it fell to Paul, because he saw this, because he knew them, and because he loved them enough to tell them the truth, lest they die, to remind them what the main thing was.

Therefore, he writes, “If I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not charity, I am nothing.” [1 Cor. 13:2]   Here he is telling the members of the Corinthian factions that all their great gifts and talents combined are not enough to secure the communion with God that is “the main thing.”  He then goes into some detail as to what characterizes the life of heaven that they should be in rehearsal for while they are on earth. In a word, “the main thing” is charity – love that is selfless and unconditional. 

Charity — the love which the Greeks called agapay — is what today’s Collect describes as “the very bond of peace and of all virtues.” This means that only where charity is present can true peace be found and real goodness be practiced.  The presence or absence of charity is what defines the difference between a society that is a “communion” and one that is merely an “association.”  In this world, every inward and spiritual communion expresses itself through outward and visible corporate elements, but not every institution signifies the existence of inward and spiritual communion between its members, even if that is its stated purpose.  Many of them are more or less empty shells devoid of humanity and at risk of destruction.  Where charity is absent the best one can hope for is a veneer of politeness and respectability – the sort of society in which people agree to a merely negative code of conduct which binds them not to kill, rob, and otherwise cheat upon one another, but which acknowledges no sort of positive obligation to assist one another to live fully and humanely. 

Charity is the characteristic feature of the life of God. It would be just as appropriate to substitute the word “God” for the word “charity” in today’s Collect and in the Epistle.  Only where God is vitally present can there be true peace and fruitful goodness, and without God, all of our actions come to nothing. If the life of God is what gives us true life (zoay), as opposed both to peace of mind (psuchay) and to mere existence (bios), then the absence of charity does indeed mean that we are really among the walking dead.

Charity is not a feeling. It is a decision. First of all, it is a decision to accept the “life-style” of God as our own – it is a decision to lay aside what St. Paul elsewhere calls “the image of the man of dust” and to accept and carry “the image of the man of heaven,” who is the Lord Jesus Christ.  It is a decision informed by the knowledge that “flesh and blood” – that woefully inadequate way of being human into which we are born – “cannot inherit the kingdom of God” and that we therefore must “be further clothed” by spiritual transformation.

If charity is a decision, then it must be carried into action. We must do something about it, for until we have acted on our decision, we have not truly decided.

We are not left without guidance on what charity looks like:  Paul tells his Corinthian audience both what charity is and what it is not.  Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up; doth not behave itself unseemly,  seeketh not her own,  thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never faileth.”  [1 Cor. 13:4-8]

Additionally, in the Gospels Jesus himself gives specific examples: “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. To him who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from him who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to every one who begs from you; and of him who takes away your goods do not ask them again. And as you wish that men would do to you, do so to them.”  “Love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return.”

Why should we do this?  Jesus’ answer to that real (though usually unspoken) question is, because it is the way God treats us: “He is kind to the ungrateful and the selfish.”  Not one of us here could deny the truth of this assertion, if we have looked with open eyes at our own history. Not one of us is here because we deserved the rain of God’s goodness and mercy and grace which fell upon us.  And not one of us who rises to the challenge of behaving toward our fellow men as our heavenly Father has behaved toward us will go away without the benefit of such behavior: If we forgive, we will be forgiven. If we give, we shall receive “good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over,” for as we open our hands to give, we are able to receive in those same open hands what God wills to give us, what the pierced hands of Jesus have won for us, which is fellowship with him, participation in his very life, in short what he made us for. 

This is all presented to us because we are in this world, not as permanent residents, but as wayfarers and pilgrims called to a heavenly destination that is a kingdom of unalloyed charity.  About 250 years ago, the great preacher-philosopher Jonathan Edwards preached a sermon entitled, “Heaven, A World of Love,” which is among the greatest of all expositions of today’s Epistle.  In it, in a stunning merger of catholic teaching and classical Puritan style, he gives his hearers practical advice on how to apply the truth taught in this passage.  Since I cannot hope to improve on it, I will quote it in part: 

First, let not your heart go after the things of this world, as your chief good. Indulge not yourself in the possession of earthly things as though they were to satisfy your soul. This is the reverse of seeking heaven; it is to go in a way contrary to that which leads to the world of love. … Second, you must, in your meditations and holy exercises, be much engaged in conversing with heavenly persons, and objects, and enjoyments. You cannot constantly be seeking heaven, without having your thoughts much there. … Third, be content to pass through all difficulties in the way to heaven. Though the path is before you, and you may walk in it if you desire, yet it is a way that is ascending, and filled with many difficulties and obstacles. That glorious city of light and love is, as it were, on the top of a high hill or mountain, and there is no way to it but by upward and arduous steps. … Fourth, in all your way let your eye be fixed on Jesus, who has gone to heaven as your forerunner. Look to him. Behold his glory in heaven, that a sight of it may stir you up the more earnestly to desire to be there. … Fifth, if you would be in the way to the world of love, see that you live a life of love — of love to God, and love to men All of us hope to have part in the world of love hereafter, and therefore we should cherish the spirit of love, and live a life of holy love here on earth. This is the way to be like the inhabitants of heaven, who are now confirmed in love forever.

The cynic says, “No good deed goes unpunished,” and so it often seems to be in this present age. But we are not to live in this present age, in the image of the man of dust, and we are not to live so as to receive a reward from this present age, for in the end it has nothing enduring to offer. Rather, through our baptism, we bear the image of the Man of heaven, and look to receive the fulfillment of imperishable gifts, the chief of which is “that most excellent gift of charity,” which is the very life of God and true fellowship with him.

In today’s Collect, we have recognized in that charity is not something we have as part of our natural equipment. It is something which we must be given — the greatest, the “most excellent” gift that we can receive from the hands of God.

God offers this gift to us in time that we may have it for ever. He holds it forth to us in this Sacrament which we celebrate. He will make good on his offer with everyone who receives it, not only with his lips, but in his life. Let each of us so receive it, that we may be accounted, not as dead, but as abundantly alive before him.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

 

Christ Church, Highlands, North Carolina

22 February 2009



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