The Weak

The epistle appointed for this Sunday pertains to a very specific situation confronting the early Christian community in Corinth. Paul’s words, however, are broadly relevant and timeless. The question being debated in the brand new church in Corinth was whether or not it was appropriate for Christians to eat meat which had been slaughtered and consecrated to pagan gods or idols. And remember, all of these Christians would have been converts from paganism or Judaism, newly committed to Christ. In that time and setting, Christians would have certainly had opportunity to eat meat consecrated to pagan gods. Evidently, it would have been served at a variety of social functions. Perhaps you can imagine this scenario… one which is really quite modern in many ways. Imagine two neighbors, living right next door to one another, in the bustling and cosmopolitan port city of Corinth. They’ve been neighbors for years, their kids grew up together, they’ve gone through storms off the sea together, shared oil when one’s lamps ran low, shared stories and shared bread together, celebrated the civic, pagan holidays together. One family hears the powerful message of the Good News as preached by Paul, grows deeply committed to following Christ and, in time, is baptized. But of course, these new Christians are still invited to the block party, still welcome at the anniversary celebration of their friends next door where the main dish has been consecrated to Artemis, moon goddess and patron of the hunt. What should they do? What would you do? Whom do you offend? Your new God, or your old neighbors?

This was the question confronting the Christians in Corinth. And, evidently, within the Christian community there were different camps or factions. Paul’s words in First Corinthians are probably written in response to a direct question from the Corinthians. We don’t have that question. So we are left to try to piece together what was going on based only upon Paul’s reply.

One faction was what we might call the progressive or intellectual group. They may have been influential voices in Corinth; Paul seems to respond directly to them. They had a strong and lively faith; they were excited by the new life and the new vistas that faith offered. And they cherished the knowledge that had been given to them of God’s presence and purpose. And they cherished the power of knowledge to discover and to understand God’s will. That’s a group I think I’d like to be a part of…

With respect to the eating of meat sacrificed to pagan idols, their position was to proclaim that there is only one true God in the world. The pagan gods, like Artemis, do not exist; they are not real. So, ultimately, the meat question is moot. As far as that goes, Paul agrees. As long as you are strong in your faith, Paul says… as long as you know with rock solid certainty that these so-called pagan consecration rites aren’t worth the paper they’re written on, then what happens in them couldn’t matter less. Meat is meat. There need be no prohibition for Christians.

The logic of this position is compelling. If you, as a Christian, avoid meat because it has been used in pagan rituals, you are thereby implicitly affirming that those rituals have some real meaning. Those pagan customs do not threaten the Christian faith. The debate picks up steam and develops a life of its own. The pagan rituals have no power; they have no meaning. The so-called gods whom they honor do not exist. We Christians know that. “For us there is one God, the Father, from whom are all things and or whom we exist, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and through whom we exist.” Christians should know that, the progressive intellectual camp would say. Only the weak or superstitious would worry about pagan meat. True Christians, whose faith is secure, have no need of food prohibitions. True Christians can prove the depth of their faithfulness by eating pagan meat.

There were probably at least two other perspectives amongst the Christians in Corinth. Another equally fervent faction might have called themselves idealist or traditionalists. They would have argued against any compromise or assimilation or even apparent participation in secular or pagan practice. Only by maintaining purity of practice and distinctiveness can the true Christian faith be lived and the faithful community formed. A number of groups in today’s world might be sympathetic to this perspective: members of monastic orders, Christian pacifists holding to an uncompromising ideal, those thousands of new Christians who live in predominantly non-Christian cultures. Its idealism and dedication are enviable. In Corinth this perspective might have come from Jewish converts raised with the dietary laws of Judaism. They would have appreciated the profound importance of purity of practice to give faith shape in the actions of daily living. They would have known how distinctive traditions form the community’s coherence and identity. But a position based upon purity or idealism leaves little room for tolerance. The traditionalists would have staunchly maintained that true Christians follow Christian traditions and cannot accept or compromise with secular or pagan practice. True Christians would ever eat pagan meat.

So the debate has become about what defines a true Christian.

But there had to be a third group. The weak. The weak of faith. I expect there were quite a few in this group. They were less sure of themselves, less confident of faith, less fervent in their convictions. People still seeking that firm foundation or strong root binding them to Christ. People who were still hoping, still seeking. Yearning to be Christians, but struggling with the expectations and demands of their neighbors, their culture, the paganism of the empire. I can imagine that many of the weak joined one side or the other in the debates in Corinth, even if their own convictions were uncertain. Maybe if we hang out with people who seem sure they are true Christians, we will be perceived as strong, true Christians, too. But in the daily living of their lives the weak were struggling, searching, compromising and hedging their bets. Their choices and actions were based, not on firm conviction, but on the exigencies of the moment. Christian when they were with their Christian friends. Pagan when they were with their pagan friends. Hoping that a modicum of Christian interest will be enough, but not really sure. Do you know anyone like that? The spiritually weak?

Somewhat surprisingly, it is the weak who are the focus of Paul’s interest. They were the most important group. The weak were the ones Paul cared about. As much as he may have loved theological sparring, and as much as his own convictions appeared to have been with the progressive meat eaters on this issue, his overriding concern is for the people whose faith is not secure. And in a rare moment of pastoral sympathy, Paul does not judge the weak. Paul does not lambaste their spiritual shortcomings. Paul does not dismiss the folk whose consciences may be weak. Paul does not lecture them on the necessity of strengthening their faith.

Instead, Paul lectures the debaters, the seemingly strong. And more or less says to them, “Get over it. It isn’t about you. It isn’t about proving the rectitude of your faith. Quit worrying about measuring who’s a true Christian and get busy helping others to know Jesus. Your primary job as a Christian is to facilitate and nurture the faith of others.” Your most important activity as a Christian is to encourage and nurture the faith of others. It’s not about you. Matthew Fox, an acerbic Episcopal priest, cites Krister Stendahl's opinion that “Am I saved?” is a neurotic question. Whether or not my theological position on the eating of meat consecrated to idols defines me as a “true” Christian is an equally neurotic and self-centered question, Paul points out to the Corinthians. Your focus should be on how your actions, on how what you do, affects others’ faith. Are you a stumbling block or a stepping stone for others’ coming to Christ? That’s the measure that really matters. Is what you’re doing a stepping stone or stumbling block for others journey to Christ?

That’s a question that is relevant today, long since the arguments about eating meat sacrificed to idols have last their potency. There are plenty of people today who set themselves up to be the ones who define the nature of a true Christians. The high profile debate now in many Christian forums (not just the Episcopal church) is about human sexuality. Voices on both sides are strong in their conviction that their position is the measure of true Christianity. It may be tempting to think that Paul’s words are meant only for “those” people who are so passionately and publicly and politically engaged in “that” high profile debate.

But Paul wrote to a congregation, to a particular group of people, Christians struggling to find their way. People like us. And Paul challenges each of us to consider this: the most important thing about your actions as a Christian is not what your actions say about your own faith, but how they affect the faith of others. Is what you do in your life a stumbling block or a stepping stone for others’ coming to Christ? For example, is what you do in worship a stumbling block or stepping stone for others seeking Christ? How about the general outlines of our corporate worship? Stepping stone or stumbling block. It’s not about you. How about where you sit or how you participate. How do those affect others’ growth in faith? Or what about our actions outside of worship? I’ll never forget the lay person at a conference I attended who said he went to coffee hour each week because there might be someone there who needed him to listen.

At home, out in the community, at work. Everything we do, everything we say, every choice and action has the potential to impact the faith of others for better or for worse. Think about it.

Paul reminds us that every time we are indifferent to the faith of others… thinking our actions don’t matter…. Every time we are indifferent to the faith of others, we demean Christ’s sacrifice for them. And remember: in the end all of us are “weak” in the faith if we admit it, insecure and struggling. Paul knew that. All of us are the weak. Our only strength comes from one another, from the commitment we share to be stepping stones for each other.