The Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany-Year B

Epiphany 4B_2021 January 31, 2020 Our reading from First Corinthians for today plops us down right in the middle of a conflict that is happening in the church in Corinth. First Corinthians is chock full of ways that Paul is writing to try to quell conflict among this particular group of followers of Jesus. We’ve seen factions at work in this letter—Paul writes that he has gotten reports from “Chloe’s people” of some serious conflicts in Corinthian community. In our passage for today, which seems to be, at first glance, about food, Paul is writing to the Corinthians about what it means to be a community of the followers of Christ. He is writing about how often we are called to make sacrifices on behalf of other members of the community, sacrifices of our own preferences in order to shore up our fellow believers in the church. A couple of weeks ago, one of my seminary classmates shared a reflection with us about what it means to be community. It was an interesting take for me, and I’ll share it with you and invite you to ponder it in light of our church and our society right now. This is an excerpt from the essay “Lost” in the book Perseverance by Margaret Wheatley “When we are overwhelmed and confused, our brains barely function. We reach for the old maps, the routine responses, what worked in the past. If we keep grasping for things to look familiar, if we frantically try and fit new problems and situations into old ways of thinking, we will continue to wander lost and eventually collapse from our confusion. There is no way to get out of this wilderness except to acknowledge that we’re lost. As we relax enough to tune in, we’ll be able to notice the information and signals that are everywhere around us. There’s sufficient information right here to help us find our way out. But we have to be willing to stop, to listen, to admit we don’t know. To navigate life today, we definitely need new maps. Our old ones confuse us unendingly. These new maps are waiting for us. They’ll appear as soon as we quiet down and, with other lost companions, relax into the unfamiliarity of this new place, senses open, curious rather than afraid. The maps we need are in us, but not only one of us. If we read the currents and signs together, we’ll find our way through.” One of my colleagues reflected on this that in a difficult time in her life, another colleague told her that she had learned that sometimes when she was in a rut or feeling especially lost, that she recognized that as a call from God to “stop and make camp.” After I reflected on this passage, I was reminded of the story of the Children of Israel in the wilderness and how they knew when it was time to stop and make camp and stay still for a while and how they knew when it was time to move on. (This is from Numbers 9:15-23.) The Lord would signal to the Israelites by using a pillar of cloud. Whenever the pillar of cloud would rest over the tabernacle-the tent of the covenant, then the Israelites would know that it was time to make camp and stay there. And they would stay there as long as it took until the pillar of cloud and fire would move from the tent of the covenant. Sometimes the pillar of cloud would rest for just a night and sometimes it would rest for several days. And the Israelites knew that they, too, should rest in camp as long as the pillar of cloud was stationary. I find myself longing these days for such surety and such clear cut signs as Paul’s certainty on what is right for the community in Corinth and for a pillar of cloud to light our way during this difficult season, telling us when to gather together and when not to, when to make camp and stay still and when to move boldly forward. Paul writes to the Corinthians: “But take care that this liberty of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak.” He urges them to consider all members of the community and to give special consideration to the weakest ones, that they may have the full support of the community of faith to nurture them in their faith. My prayers and my wrestlings lately have been how to care for the weakest members of our community; how to know when we are being called to sacrifice the devices and desires of our own hearts on behalf of others in the community; and it has been how to discern God’s call to us in this lost season. I don’t have any answers for any of this at this point, but I invite you to join me in the ponderings, in considering when we are being called by God to sacrifice and what might be gained in our community through a season of stillness and rest and discernment and how to do that work together? “To navigate life today, we definitely need new maps. Our old ones confuse us unendingly. These new maps are waiting for us. They’ll appear as soon as we quiet down and, with other lost companions, relax into the unfamiliarity of this new place, senses open, curious rather than afraid. The maps we need are in us, but not only one of us. If we read the currents and signs together, we’ll find our way through.”