The Wisdom of God

Evensong Sermon 04/02/07
Preached at St Alphege, Solihull, 6.30pm, Sunday 04/02/07
Year C – Third Sunday before Lent

Readings: Isaiah 58:1-9a 1Cor 2:1-12

Many years ago I attended a Christian conference for young people. We listened to a big speech and then divided into small groups to do some work arising from the speech. I was responsible for leading one of these small groups. In our group there was a particular girl who said that she disagreed with one of the points made in the big speech. She explained what she thought. I thought that he was overlooking something, so I explained this back to her. I can’t remember what I said, but I do remember that I thought it dealt very well with her objection, and I really hoped that she would come to understand the important point that was being made. In stead, of course, I got a flee in my ear, and I suppose really, I might have expected this.
It was a difficult moment. There was no time to continue the conversation because we needed to get on with our tasks. I remember making a little prayer, offering to God the suffering of this gap in understanding and praying for the grace to carry on loving through that suffering. I explained to the girl that we needed to get on with the tasks and we did this as best we could.
A couple of days later the conference came to an end. People were invited to go on stage and share their impressions. To my horror the first person up on stage was this same girl, and she started talking about the incident she had had with me. It turned out that it had been an important moment for her, not at all because of what I said, but rather because she could see that I had faith and she realised that she could have faith too.
I was deeply struck by this. It turned out that I had helped the girl, but in a completely different way from the way which I had intended. The point that she had come to understand concerned faith, and had nothing to do with the words I had used, even though I had thought my words had been quite good. Probably had far more to do with the little prayer and with the intention of continuing to love, despite the suffering of misunderstanding.
In the second reading that we hear today Paul seems to be making a similar point. He says, “I did not come proclaiming to you the testimony of God in lofty words or wisdom. For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.” In the first three chapters of I Corinthians, Paul’s whole theme is to point out the difference between human wisdom and God’s wisdom. The wisdom of God is the crucified Christ (1 Cor 1:23-24) and is taught to us, not by human wisdom, but by the Spirit (1Cor 2:13). It is not through great arguments that people come to understand the Christian message. Rather it is when Christ is loved in them, and especially when Christ crucified is loved in them.
If only I had known this when I was a student! We used to stay up all night arguing about the existence of God. I used to put all my energy into finding the best arguments. Instead I would have done much better to concentrate on loving the others as Christ loves them, and especially loving them in the suffering of their atheism. This would have communicated much, much more.
And this is very reassuring and liberating. Many of us find it very difficult to articulate our Christian faith. Sometimes it can be very difficult to say anything at all about our Christian life. It seems that even Paul had this problem. In 2Corithians 10:10 we hear that people say “Paul’s letters are weighty and forceful, but in person he is unimpressive and his speaking amounts to nothing”. When we struggle in this way let us remember that it is much more important to love Christ present in the other person, and especially to love Christ crucified, than it is to find the rights words to express our faith. Obviously there is a time for words, but it is love that prepares the ground.
I have referred a few times to loving Christ crucified in the other people. I want to explain what I mean by that. I mean be ready to accept, out of love, the sufferings that arise when we love other people. Perhaps we try to love someone and they snap back at us. Perhaps we try to love someone, but we find them a bit boring, and it really costs us to spend time with them. Perhaps to love someone we have to listen to then properly, and have to hold off talking about ourselves or our agenda. Perhaps loving someone requires us to stand with them and share their grief, when it would be much easier to make an excuse and walk away. The supreme example of this costly love is Jesus, who accepts the hostility and rejection of others, to the point of dying on a cross. Another key example is Mary, who continues to stand by Jesus on the cross, even though she can do nothing to help.
Costly love is also a theme of our first reading from Isaiah. Isaiah is talking about people who seek to draw near to God through fasting. God tells them that the fast required by God is to stop oppressing other people. It is to share your bread with the hungry. It is to share your home with the homeless, to cloth the naked and to spend time with the family. If you do this, then you will experience God’s light and God’s healing and God’s righteousness and his Glory; you will call and he will answer. So says Isaiah (Is 58:6-9a).
These are costly acts of love. Am I ready to share my house with the homeless? I’m not sure that I am. Fortunately God often does not ask this from us. Although it happens, it is relatively rare in Solihull to meet someone who is homeless, or naked or hungry. However it is very common to meet people with prickly personalities, lonely people who need to talk, people who annoy us for one reason or another, and these are the people with whom we can practice loving.
And this leads to real progress on our spiritual journeys. Learning to love even difficult people builds in us the mindsets and values of heaven. We start to build ourselves up in the secret and hidden wisdom of God, which God decreed before the ages for our glorification (1 Cor 2:7). This is the Christian paradox. It is precisely in the cross of Christ, that is so frightening, and unappealing that our true hope lies. So let is cling fast to this hope, which is sure. In our daily lives let us grow in love, by continuing to love through sufferings. In this way we are assured that “No eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor heart conceived, what god has prepared for those who love him.” (1 Cor 2:9).