Sermons

Leadership and Baptism

John Wilkinson                                 Third Presbyterian Church  January 18, 2004                                I Corinthians 12:1-11

For reasons defying human explanation, I had the pleasure and privilege of going to the Department of Motor Vehicles four times over the course of two days immediately following Christmas.

Such places do not necessarily bring out the best in people. Long lines. Long forms. The big red A and B and C and all those numbers and arrows leading to who-knows-where.

At one point, though, something became quite clear to me. It didn’t seem theological at the moment, but it was theological then and most certainly is now. A woman, standing behind the counter, a civil employee. All day, every day, receiving people like me – some grumpier than others, some less cooperative than others.

She received me with professionalism and competence and the slightest measure of holiday cheer. So I determined to act humanely toward her. She explained a somewhat complicated process to me, pointing out gently the human error – mine! – that had contributed in part to four trips to that very place. And then we were on our way, me to my tasks, her to her next customer.

The Roman city of Corinth was large and prosperous and diverse. The Apostle Paul had started a church in Corinth near the year 50. It developed problems that sound not dissimilar to the modern American Protestant church: theologically disputatious, internal disorder, the development of rival factions, the notion that some are more fully “Christian” than others, the marginalization of disadvantaged members.

And Paul will have none of it, and so, in what we now call I Corinthians, he issues a call to unity. And he does so utilizing a most extraordinary image that should take our breath away and invite us to re-visit every word we say, every act we take, both in the church and in the world in which we live. “You are the body of Christ,” Paul insists.

It is not aspirational or wishful. It is not a complex business school org. chart. Nor a model chosen from a set of three offered by a consultant, nor even the contrivance of a preacher. You ARE the body of Christ. And one rather has the feeling that what Paul had wanted to write – “you are the body of Christ, so please start acting like it” – he didn’t. Rather, we hear something infinitely more valuable.

Last week we began a little three-week arc whose central theme is leadership. Leadership and baptism last week, with the reminder, as Karl Barth once wrote, that “baptism is our ordination.” Next Sunday we will think about leadership in terms of power, power as the world would have it and power as we would exercise it as children of God. Today’s is a kind of transition from the affirmation of our leadership to its exercise.

One can almost imagine the church at Corinth like a grade school playground, a big ecclesiastical kickball game. There is a fuss over rules. There is a fuss over captains. There is a fuss over picking order, and therefore pecking order. And then the game begins, except for the fact that some are left in the dust. Perhaps they are, for whatever reason, less popular or less talented. Perhaps they moved in from another city, or don’t wear the right clothes or carry the right kind of backpack. Who knows?

But what we know is that the teams are picked, and one is left out, and that one kind of disappears into the background or ventures over to the swing-set all alone or watches the game from behind the fence. They are diminished, the captain who ignored them is diminished, the game is diminished.

And Paul will have none of it. “Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.”

To utilize our playground parlance, everyone, everyone, has something to contribute to the game. You may kick lousy and be slow as molasses, but you could be a whiz at positioning players or offering encouragement or knowing the other team’s strengths and weaknesses.

Variety seems to be God’s way of doing things. Diversity is not some 21st century P.C. fabrication. It is a central element of our life together as the body of Christ. Each of us, because we are baptized, are given things to do, and given the ability to do those things. We are all gifted. We are all gifted, and we serve more faithfully as the body of Christ and the church in the world as we are able to discern those gifts and live into that promise.

We ordain and install officers for the church this morning. It is a grand occasion. It is the genius of the Presbyterian system at its best, I would submit. The vesting of power in the people. The absolute insistence that the Spirit of God has given gifts to the people and that the church is best served, and the world, when those gifts are identified and claimed and used.

Paul thought of it in this way, writing to that conflicted Corinthian church: “To one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge according to the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by the one Spirit, to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another the discernment of spirits, to another various kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues.”

We would adapt it just a bit. One teaches the children. One advises the youth. One cooks a meal. One shovels the snow. One sings. One rings. One writes a poem. One deciphers the endowment spread sheet. One holds another’s hand and prays. One plans a strategy. One evaluates a program. One dreams. One says that the dreamer is too dreamy. One writes a check. One plans. One tells the planner that they are not dreamy enough. One spends money. One tries to stop that one from spending money. One ushers. One greets. One word processes. One makes rough the waters. One smoothes the waters.

And if we think that none of those, none of us, are needed, well, think again. Because Paul further insists that “all these are activated by one and the same Spirit, who allots to each one individually just as the Spirit chooses.” That is to say that the ones today who are ordained and installed – like all of us – are simply doing what we are called to do by living out our baptisms.

In our economy of things, the Deacons care and nurture. The Trustees exercise trust, particularly over this building and the church’s finances. The Session plans programs and oversees things. All are needed. And each person on each of those groups is gifted to serve, not because we say so or they so, but because the Spirit says so.

And of course, it cannot and must not stop there. Two very helpful trends are happening in the church right now, the broader church, and we should pay attention to them and live into them here as we are able. One is called something like “leadership development,” the recognition and realization that leadership in the church for the next generation and the next and the next is no sure thing.

One of our interesting challenges around here is just that, answering the question “who will lead.” It’s a changing conversation. Time commitments, multiple locations, professional multi-tasking, commitments to either side of the sandwich generation, perpetual car-pooling, time commitments are different animals these days.

We need to be flexible and creative and imaginative. And we need to enlist more of us, all of us, I would say, in the leadership roles of the church. The great transfer of financial capital and social capital that we are experiencing in America in this and the next decade or so, will also need to become a transfer of leadership capital.

And it is our great opportunity, in part because of the second interesting development in the life of the church. “Discerning your gifts,” it is sometimes called. The simple, profound process of doing some kind of spiritual inventory, of taking Paul’s admonition seriously, and discerning what it is that you have to offer. And then offering it.

The “to do” list of this church seems ambitious indeed. Increased outreach. Enhanced education. Care that reaches those in need and connects with all kinds of people seeking what we have called “fellowship.” Creative worship and music. And just as we would affirm today the people with formal titles like elder and deacon and trustee have gifts to offer to that vision, so we must all remember our baptisms and allow them to free us to lead, to discern our gifts and share them here.

Great ideas are bubbling up all over the place, as they must, because they are activated by the Spirit. And they are activated within each of us. And we had better do something about them, because to do anything less would be to diminish ourselves, the church and even the body of Christ.

That is what I thought, finally, as I waited in line at the D.M.V. That woman, standing day after day, catching grief, was called to that task and given gifts to fulfill it. And our life is better served because of her vocation, which includes that job and, perhaps, many other forms of serving the commonwealth. She may not realize it every moment of every day, and we certainly fall short of affirming it every moment of every day. But it is the gospel truth, and it is a gift of the Spirit.

I was reminded this week that Martin Luther King, Jr. was not particularly interested in leading a movement. A young, relatively unknown minister. A little bus boycott in Montgomery, Alabama. And we, we who would celebrate a holiday tomorrow as more than simply a day off, would say that his leadership, his giftedness, was no accident. It was a gift of the spirit and a product of his baptism.

And further, as we would affirm his special calling, we would in the very same breath affirm the calling of each one of us.

Remember your baptism, and be thankful, and then let’s get busy. Amen.