By Isaiah’s account, “The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a
light has shone. You have brought them abundant joy and great
rejoicing.” We Christians take that as a prophecy not only about
Christ’s coming, but also about his people.
And yet so often in the life of the church, Christ is divided into
pieces, and the song of his people is cacophony. Divisions afflict the
various Christian tribes. The rod of the taskmaster, which Jesus was
to smash, is wielded by factions who think they have cornered
Christ.
In the Catholic church, it often goes like this: I am for Ratzinger. I
am for Rahner. I am the Pope’s. I am for protest, I’m for
restoration. I’m for reform. I’m for women. I’m for
tradition.
We’re forgetting something: Has Ratzinger or Rahner saved us? Is it the Pope who has been crucified for us? Have we been baptized in the name of tradition or of change?
Paul begs the Corinthians, in the name of Jesus, that there be no factions among them: “Rather be united in mind and judgment.” But what unites them if they share no common ground? What unifies the formation of their judgment? It is evident that the reported “quarreling” in the church at Corinth was based upon divergent commitments to someone or something other than Jesus. That’s what was splitting them apart.
The factionalist, whether of Paul’s time or our own, “belongs” to someone other than Jesus. Some think that Paul has the truth. Others cling to Apollos. Others pledge their allegiance to Peter. Yet Paul will have no truck with this line of thought.
“Has Christ, then, been divided into parts? Was it Paul who was crucified for you?” Our baptism, through the gifts of tradition and law, ritual and order, is the sign of our salvation; but the salvation is found in Christ, no one, no thing else. Other voices that offer us another savior speak the worldly language of power and privilege, not the way of the cross, which to them seems inadequate and foolish.
In Matthew’s Gospel Jesus leaves Nazareth for Capernaum to
fulfill the promise of bringing light to the Jordan. He preached that
the Kingdom of God requires reform. Indeed it does. So it was for the
church of Peter and Paul. So it is for us today.
In the “always reforming” life of the church, at least two
principles seem important. First, every one of us, from pope to
pauper, from theologian to activist, from grandparent to child, stands
humbly before God as a sinner called to conversion and salvation in
Jesus Christ. There can be no other ground or principle from which we
can approach our various gifts or deficiencies.
Second, it is good to recall the kinds of people Jesus chose for
Apostles: from the fishermen brothers Simon and Andrew to Matthew and
John, they were all flawed yet graced. They would go on to heal and
preach a kingdom that would draw millions to Christ. And what always
helped them overcome their differences was the sure knowledge that it
was in Christ’s name they were fishing, not their own.