Where We Start From--January 28, 2026

Where We Start From--January 28, 2026

"Now I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you be in agreement and that there be no divisions among you but that you be knit together in the same mind and the same purpose. For it has been made clear to me by Chloe’s people that there are quarrels among you, my brothers and sisters." (1 Corinthians 1:10-11) 

I'll be honest: it's kind of hard for me to read these words, or to have heard them in worship like many of us did this past Sunday in worship, while also keeping my eyes open at the actual world in front of me. Here in this passage from Paul's first letter to the Corinthian Christians, he pleads for them to be "knit together in the same mind and the same purpose" with "no divisions," and the moment I turn on the television, read the news, or scroll on my social media feed, it feels like we are tearing ourselves apart in a host of different ways all at once.

Let's name one of the biggest elephants in the room as an example. We are living in a time of deep unrest erupting in places like Minneapolis, and now we have witnessed several lives taken, including those of American citizens, in recent weeks, shot by agents of our government as part of operations meant to crack down on illegal immigration. And part of what makes it especially difficult is knowing that there are folks who name the name of Jesus who view those events very differently--in ways that seem diametrically opposed.  Some watch the events in the news and their understanding of the faith frames it all in terms of protecting law and order and submitting to civil authorities. Others are outraged at the shooting of civilians or the detainment of young children and hear the words of Jesus, "Whatever you did to the least of these, you did to me," echoing in the background. We end up with people, who all go to church on Sundays, viewing the exact same events from very different perspectives, some cheering on the federal agents as they detain immigrants in the name of supporting God-given authorities and others supporting those who are trying to provide for their families or who put their bodies at risk to protect others from possible mistreatment because they see them all as God-given neighbors. It is awfully difficult to hear Paul's prayer for Christian unity when we see the events of the day, often including the same video footage, and have come to interpret them in completely different ways, shaped by different emphases in our our supposedly common faith.  That isn't just hard; it is often heartbreaking.

And of course, that feels like it is only the very freshest layer of discord between groups who all claim the title "Christian." We are fragmented along partisan lines and labels like blue and red states. We are fractured into Christian denominations, who seem increasingly unable (or unwilling) to work together, even within the same branch of the family tree. (I think of how even among Lutherans we have a splintered witness and cannot share common fellowship in many ways, not to mention our differences from other Christian groups.)  And you can add onto all of those the differences and disagreements we have on matters of taste and style: "traditional" versus "contemporary" worship, formal versus informal, "high-church" liturgy versus "low-church" seeker friendly atmosphere, and our perennial inability to agree on a color of carpet for the church social hall. All of these divisions seem to make a mockery of Paul's urging that there be "no divisions" among us who name the same "Lord Jesus Christ."

So what are we to do about all of this?  Is it all a naive pipe dream to imagine Christians having the "same mind and purpose" when we are split from each other on issues from the liturgical and the theological to the ethical and the political?  Is it empty wishful thinking that we could still be "knit together"?  After all, some observers today would even say that we cannot speak of a single thing called "Christianity" any longer, but of many different "Christianities," each of which has a claim of continuity with the twenty-century history of the church, even though they are often in sharp disagreement with one another? Are they all valid versions of Christianity? Does any building with a cross on the steeple have an authentic witness to the gospel? At what point are our differences merely matters of taste and preference, and where do they become matters over which Christianity stands or falls--and how would we know?  I find myself hearing these words of Paul's and sometimes feeling like he didn't know how hard we would have it, or what sorts of controversies we would face.  I find myself thinking, "Paul, it sure sounds lovely to imagine that all Christians could be of the same mind and purpose, but in our time it feels like we are living in completely different worlds from the folks who see things differently. We can't even agree on what the facts of reality are, so of course we can't agree on how to respond to them!"

And then something happens.

For one, when I read these words of Paul's, it occurs to me that he is also writing at a time of deep divisions within the early church--and it probably felt even more precarious to him because there was no track record of the church enduring through those divisions when he wrote.  I can at least point to some glimpses of persistent, enduring Christianity over the last two millennia, in spite of all of our schisms and splits, while Paul and the church in Corinth was very much making all of this up as they went along.  Paul, too, knew that the church of his day was splintered along lines of culture, language, practice, politics, and practice.  Paul, too, had to watch groups forming at the First Church of Corinth, and he was worried that the splintering might never stop.  Oddly enough, that gives me hope--because it reminds me that Paul was not naive when he wrote his plea for being "knit together." He didn't live in some idyllic time of perfect Christian unity and assume it was easy to maintain--he lived through a time, just a few years after Jesus' own ministry, when it felt like the Christian experiment might break apart as it spread to include formerly outcast Gentiles and learned to appeal to citizens of the Roman Empire beyond Judea.  That Paul--the one who has wept and struggled and suffered for the sake of holding the Christian community together--is the one who hasn't given up on the prayer for being "knit together" and having "the same mind and purpose." Even at my most despairing, I can't forget that.

The other thing that hits me as I read these words of Paul's in context with the fragmentation of our own time is that the apostle does give us direction for where our shared mind and purpose will come from: he points us to the particularity of Jesus.  Not merely as a brand-name or a mascot or an empty vessel for us to fill with whatever meaning or value we wish. Not as a means of baptizing our own agendas and calling them "God's will" because it's what we wanted to do already.  But Paul keeps pointing us to Jesus, and the particular character of Jesus' way in the world, as the thing that will hold us together. He doesn't merely throw his hands up with a shrug and say, "We will just have to agree to disagree on everything, as long as we can recite the Creed and wear our cross necklaces." Paul is convinced that the way of Jesus has a certain trajectory to it, one which is always characterized by self-giving love, care for the most vulnerable, and a willingness to lay down our lives for others rather than to dominate them. That means something. It gives clarity to how we view the events unfolding around us and our place within them.

In Paul's own day, for example, that meant that the Christians in Corinth were called upon to share some of their resources with the folks around Jerusalem who were living through a famine (see more about that later in the Corinthian epistles). Following Jesus had a certain trajectory to it, which would lead Christians to give toward others' need rather than hoarding for themselves alone.  Or when it came to including Gentile foreigners (non-Jewish people) into the church, Paul again was convinced that the character of Jesus was the definitive reason why all were now to be welcomed rather than just people from one language, nation, or culture.  Paul was convinced that the way of Jesus really did--and still does--give us the clarity to shape our perspective in the world.  It leads us always to compassion rather than cruelty, always to answer with good rather than evil, always to heal rather than to wound, and always to lay down our lives rather than to take the lives of others. That will help us as we face the events of any given day to know what truly fits with the perspective of Jesus... and what does not.  

Paul reminds us that it is the particular person of Jesus Christ through which we see the meanings of events and decide how to act within them.  And Paul sure does seem to believe that the particularity of Jesus really can give us the guidance to make sense of the world without being fragmented into countless feuding factions.  The question we might need to ask--and to keep asking, day after day and generation after generation--is how the perspective of Jesus frames the way we will see the day before us.  Rather than starting with what the talking heads on television tell me I should believe about an event or a headline and then looking for ways to slap a cross on it, we are called to start with the kind of love Jesus embodies and to let that become the lens through which we see.  Paul is convinced it really will make a difference to let Jesus be the place we start from. I won't pretend that is always easy, or that simply invoking the name of Christ will make our disagreements vanish into thin air like a magic spell. But I do believe, and with Paul I think, that the particular character of Jesus really does give us direction for making sense of the world if we are willing to see all of life through his lens.  

And because Paul gives us the witness of his own time when the church struggled through division, we know that this isn't merely a naive wish.  It is possible to do the hard work of seeing life through the lens of Jesus.  It is possible to find common ground where we are, if we are willing both to ask how folks who see things differently from us are trying to act in light of the way of Jesus, and if we are willing to ask that hard question of ourselves.  Sometimes the people we have the sharpest disagreements with really are trying to live out of their faith, and they have latched onto a different element of our Christian heritage. Even if we don't see eye to eye, it does make a difference to see that others are doing their best to try to follow Jesus.  From there, we can ask the deeper questions of what values are priorities for Jesus, and which things are secondary or on the periphery for him.  But it does something to humanize those we struggle with the most to ask, "How did you get to this conviction?" and for those who share our faith in Christ to ask, "Help me to see how you see your faith in Christ leading you to this conclusion?" When we can listen and answer that question ourselves, at least we are starting in the right place.

Lord Jesus, we long for clarity in the midst of the many kinds of disagreements and divisions among us--and the stakes are very high.  Give us the humility to listen, the courage to speak, and the willingness to let you shape our common vision in the light of your particular way in the world.