Seventh Sunday after Pentecost (9B), July 8, 2018; The Rev. Pamela L. Werntz

O God of grace, grant us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will.

Sometimes Bible readings are so weird –even for a Bible geek like me! Second Corinthians definitely wins the prize this week. I love the story from the Gospel of Mark about when Jesus inaugurated the buddy system for his followers, to get out there to extend hearts and hands, to expect miracles, but not to carry the dirty residue of rejection with them as they went from one town to another. I love the idea that Jesus sent no-one out alone. They got sent out two by two to proclaim that everybody should turn around toward Love, and doing this, they were able to cast out many demons and heal many who were suffering. I love to preach about that, but I think I need to say something about the portion of Paul’s letter that we heard read to us this morning, because it sounds so weird that I can’t let it just sit there today.

Although our canon of scripture puts Paul’s writings into two letters to the congregation of Jesus followers in Corinth, what we call “First and Second Corinthians” is made up of at least three different letters, and there are references to two other letters that seem to have been lost. Also lost are the written letters or verbal reports from the Corinthian congregation to Paul. The important thing about that is that we have pieces from one party in a long dialogue, a sustained relationship over a span of years, and we are left to speculate about what words or issues might have prompted Paul to write what he wrote. It’s a little like overhearing someone talking on the phone in an animated voice and imagining what the person on the other end must be saying to evoke those responses. Actually, though, it’s even more difficult than that. It’s like reading a translated transcript of one part of a conversation originally in a language that is not your native tongue, and not being able to tell what is serious and what is funny, what is sincere and what is sarcastic, what is intended to build up and what is intended to knock down a few pegs. That Paul’s letter fragments were preserved is a testament to their value to the early Church. But I don’t think for a minute that Paul ever imagined that he was writing anything that would later be considered holy scripture!

The context for our passage today is that it is near the end of what might be considered the “severe letter” that, in another part of 2 Corinthians, Paul says he wrote to them, “out of much distress and anguish of heart and with many tears.” [1] Or maybe there was an earlier severe letter that’s been lost, and this is less severe and more sarcastic. It’s also referred to as “The Fool’s Speech” [2] because Paul was making a strong and ironic argument that he was the biggest fool of all to trust in the redeeming love of God (which is another way of saying “The Christ”). Paul was the prototype “Fool for Christ.”

I think it’s possible that Paul was trying to make the people in Corinth laugh when he talked about knowing a person who was caught up or carried away as far as the third heaven. Why not the seventh heaven? The third heaven was where the Garden of Eden was thought to be located. The seventh heaven or highest heaven was where God’s throne was. (Our sanctus words “Hosanna in the highest” are an appeal to the seventh heaven for God to help us.) The third heaven is not that high – not even half as high as the highest heaven. Paul is widely understood to be talking about himself here when he writes, “I know a man.” It’s a rhetorical device. He is talking about having an in body or out of body trip (he doesn’t know which) to the third heaven in the third person, where he heard things he’s not permitted to repeat. This is funny. I think he’s poking fun at people who have been boasting about their own authority by talking about their own mystical experiences, people who he views as “status grasping” [3] or power grabbing. He’s reminding them (and maybe himself a little bit) that following Jesus and worrying about reputation and social standing are incompatible activities.

Paul goes on to talk about what he calls “a thorn given to him in the flesh” by a messenger of Satan to torment him, to keep him from being too elated. What exactly this thorn is, is much debated. I don’t think Paul was talking about a literal illness or condition, but I don’t know. He might have been. I think he was using the image as a metaphor for persecution. Thorn is too small a word for the Greek word skolops, which was a pointy sharp stick that was a gruesome military device placed in pits in the hopes that the enemies would fall onto it and impale themselves. He’s using it to stand for a part of a trap, placed by the messengers or angels of the main adversary of God, or the chief enemy of Love. Note: it wasn’t a dangerous thing placed by God. It’s worth noting that according to Paul, God doesn’t cause all things, bad and good, to happen, but God can use all things that happen for good, [4] (even and especially the crucifixion of Jesus). If Satan, or God’s Adversary sends messengers to say, “be afraid. Don’t risk treating others with respect, dignity and compassion,” God sends messengers to say, “don’t be afraid, treating someone with respect, dignity and compassion is worth the risk every time,” even if the consequence is insult, persecution, and other hardships.

This skolops, Paul points out, is only partially effective. It keeps him from becoming deliriously happy and reminds him of his need for the grace of God, which he concludes, is sufficient. What is grace? It’s Divine favor and blessing and kindness toward humans that is entirely unmotivated by worthiness. One Greek lexicon calls it the “practical application of [Divine] goodwill.” [5] So I wonder, what trials, what traps, what sharp objects or objections keep us from getting overly elated from loving God or loving one another? I hear my mother’s sarcastic response to something that was better than nothing, but not a reason for enthusiasm – she’s fond of saying, “well, it’s better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.” I am always a little bit afraid when she says that, even if I know she’s being funny!

Although I don’t think it will catch on, we could call today, “Identify your weakness Sunday!” We could reflect for a moment about what insults, mistreatments, and other experiences painful experiences have taught us that we cannot rely on ourselves alone, but that we need others, and we need God. When you know your weakness, that’s what makes you strong. Here’s why I think this strange letter belongs in our canon of scripture. Paul is teaching the paradox that needing Love and needing one another is what makes us strong, not weak. This is when I wish I had a bluegrass gospel band behind me to play that great Jesse Winchester song that goes “if you love somebody, then that means you need somebody, and if you need somebody, that’s what makes you weak. But if you know you’re weak, and you know you need somebody, oh it’s a funny thing: that’s what makes you strong.” That’s your assigned listening homework.

Paul is positing that what the world mistakes for God’s favor: health, wealth, fame, power, has nothing to do with the Love of God in Jesus Christ. It is through enduring insults, dangers, hardships, persecutions, and other difficulties where we come to realize our need for God – our need for Love, and that’s when God’s grace becomes sufficient, and God’s grace makes us strong. It reminds me of a very sweet story from the weekly prison ministry card-making program that I began 20 years ago. You know, prison is a very bad place to be, even when it’s better than the alternatives. The end of any visit or program is particularly sad, so we always end with the compline prayer that I love, “keep watch dear Lord with those who work or watch or weep this night; and give your angels over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ, give rest to the weary, bless the dying, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous, and all for your love’s sake.” Many years ago, there was a woman who was always prompted by the line, “pity the afflicted” to interject, “I’m afflicted!” whenever we prayed that line. The combination of the deep truth and the interruption always made us laugh and nod, and it made me feel a little bit stronger. Last week I asserted that Love will make you brave. This week, I want to assert that Love will make you strong. I’ll leave you with words from the great Sufi master, Hafiz:

Now is the time to know

That all you do is sacred.

Now, why not consider

A lasting truce with yourself and God.

Now is the time to understand

That all your ideas of right and wrong

Were just a child’s training wheels

To be laid aside

When you can finally live

With veracity

And love… .

My dear, please tell me,

Why do you still

Throw sticks at your heart

And God?

What is it in that sweet voice inside

That incites you to fear?

Now is the time for the world to know

That every thought and action is sacred.

This is the time

For you to deeply compute the impossibility

That there is anything

But Grace

Now is the season to know

That everything you do

Is sacred. [6]

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