Epiphany 6, Year A | I Corinthians 3:1-9
St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church
February 12, 2023
the Rev. Jonathan Hanneman
To watch the full service, please visit this page.
“…we are God’s servants, working together.” – I Corinthians 3:9a[1]
Evangelical. Conservative. Separatist. Independent. Fundamental. Baptist. Each of those terms played a significant role in my development[2] not only during childhood but well into my adult life. After all, these kinds of labels had been essential markers of identity where I grew up, so roughly 10 years ago, sitting in my therapist’s office, hearing the sentence shocked me completely.
“I am not an evangelical.”
My eyes shot wide, and my back went stiff. I had never heard anyone say that before. Yet in my core, I knew the words still hanging in the air were true: they had come out of my own mouth.
Shannon and I had been “visiting” our local Episcopal congregation on a weekly basis for at least a year. I kept telling friends from our previous church’s Bible study group that this was just a phase; we would be back soon enough—we both just needed a break. But that weekend, when we returned to our old church to celebrate one of those friend’s weddings, the disconnect was palpable. Experiences I had known as comfortable, warm, and familiar now felt nearly as alien as a foreign language I was hearing for the first time. I could grasp snatches of familiar sounds and sometimes even connect with a few intentions and emotions. I could recognize particular customs playing out. But I simply couldn’t make sense of it anymore.
My therapist took it all in stride, but for me it was a life-changing moment. It felt like massive wings had just sprouted from my back, shattering chains I didn’t even know had been binding me throughout my life. At that point, I could recognize what I wasn’t, but apart from being a Christian, I couldn’t have told you what kind of subset I was—I still can’t, to be honest.
We get so caught up on labels: progressive, conservative, evangelical, mainline, Episcopalian, Baptist. And that’s just within the Church. Add politics and social viewpoints to the mix, and things get even more divisive. But they don’t have to be.
I spent last weekend up at the cathedral in Albuquerque. It was my first real experience on the “safe” side of COMB (the Commission on Ministry to the Baptized), the diocesan body that travels with people discerning God’s call on their lives. When I had gone through discernment just a few years ago, this kind of retreat was a fairly grueling interview process that determined whether or not an individual was allowed to begin the process of taking up holy orders. Here it’s more expansive, working not only with potential deacons and priests but with lay people who are simply trying to figure out what might be next in their lives. I had been looking forward to the experience, but on the very first night I saw a certain other priest walk into the room, and my enthusiasm instantly dampened.
Still being fairly new to the diocese, I haven’t had much chance to get to know most clergy from our area. However, every time I had run into this particular individual, whether in brief personal encounters or Zoom meetings, they had rubbed me the wrong way. Their presence and personality reminded me of the weight that had fallen from me when sitting on my therapist’s couch that afternoon. Oh well, I sighed to myself, at least they aren’t on my team. I figured I would just do my best to avoid them and minimize interaction so my own feelings wouldn’t accidentally disrupt our discerners’ process.
The next morning as I was setting up our team’s meeting space, I watched warily as I saw my unwitting nemesis walk into the room, sit down, and began looking through their notes. One of our regular team members hadn’t been able to make it to the retreat, so just a few days earlier this individual had been appointed to fill in. I was not pleased. My attitude had already gone from nervous excitement to guarded optimism, but now it looked like the entire weekend would simply become an endurance challenge.
As we began talking with our first discerner, I found myself wincing at the other priest’s questions. “Who is Jesus to you?” “For all he’s done, are you worthy?” I wouldn’t have asked those kinds of things at all, at least not directly—they were just so on the nose, so blatantly “spiritual” and emotional. So…evangelical. But as time went on, my internal cringe began to soften. Between their questions and mine, we were uncovering a fuller picture of the person in front of us, drawing out aspects of personality, proficiency, and calling that I doubt either of us would have discovered on our own. After a few sessions I found myself modifying and adapting some of the other priest’s regular questions as they began picking up aspects of my own. We may have been coming from different viewpoints, but we were a great team and genuinely shared a common goal. My animosity dwindled as my respect grew. By the end of the weekend, I found myself considering this person no longer as a threat or a challenge or someone to somehow counteract but as a friend.
Our personalities still clash a bit. And I imagine if either of us were to stoke the pride hiding in every human heart, we could have quite the theological throwdown. But what had initially appeared to be the miserable prospect of working together ended up being a gift. Each of us was able to unveil aspects of the discerners’ skills and note additional areas where we might offer support. And in later committee discussions, we both ended up translating concerns or questions we had into a shared language that allowed each of us to see more clearly.
Despite their apparent disconnect, that’s really what both Paul and Jesus are talking about today, with I Corinthians addressing division amidst a congregation and Jesus driving home the need for reconciliation and mending relationships on both a personal and societal level, because difference doesn’t need to divide us. God’s Kingdom is not like Empire. Jesus encourages us to work toward unity, but he doesn’t demand the lockstep formations of uniformity. The Reign of the Heavens never encourages division or hammers wedges between well-meaning people and groups to amass power for itself. It doesn’t promote fear and suspicion among neighbors. It doesn’t thrive on labels and subcategories and factions. Christ is big enough to contain the full spectrum of our interpretations and expressions—even those we may not like so much. Our contrasts are like the colors of a rainbow, each distinct yet together expressing the full wonder and glory found throughout Christ’s body.
That’s actually why the Peace is such an important part of our worship. It might feel like a time to greet friends and visitors, but it has a structural purpose: it’s our time of collective reconciliation as a congregation. Having just confessed our personal and corporate sin and before approaching the altar to present our lives to God, we, like the person making the offering in Jesus’ parable, turn to one another and choose love over animosity. We choose forgiveness and reconciliation over division. We choose the children of God in front of us—all of them—over the labels and divisions Empire imposes to separate us.
I’m not an evangelical, and that’s okay. Maybe you are. That’s also perfectly okay. As I was reminded—and convicted about—last weekend, God is much bigger than any single one of us, than our opinions and interpretations, than our personalities and approaches to life. The truth is, we need one another. We might see things differently. We might approach ideas from different angles. We might even wish we could change each other on occasion. But again, we need one another—the shining fullness of who each of us are. To accomplish our mission of spreading God’s Way of Love throughout the world, we need each member of Christ’s body functioning in harmony. You and I may not be the same, but neither of us are alone. We need not let anyone divide us.
“…we are God’s servants, working together.”
[1] All Bible quotations are from the NRSV unless otherwise noted.
[2] Particularly the last four