1 Corinthians 3:1-3, 8-9; Matthew 5:21-24; February 12, 2023; Sixth Sunday after Epiphany
By far the most popular question I’ve received here on Sunday mornings has been if I’m wearing this stole for the Eagles.
No, no, my children. Green is merely the color of the Church season that we are in. Next week I’ll be wearing white. Not because we’ll be cleansing the taste of defeat out of our mouths, or celebrating the purity of our victory, but because next Sunday is Transfiguration Sunday and the Church wears white to mark the pivotal events in the life of Christ. Just like how in Lent we will be wearing purple to symbolize penance and preparation; and then red on Pentecost and my installation to highlight the work of the Holy Spirit.
You see, colors in the church matter and are symbolic. And green is the color of “ordinary time” in the life of our fellowship together as a congregation. So, while I might look dashing in this vibrant green, it literally has nothing to do with Devonta Smith or Kenny Gainwell.
Now, I was honestly expecting our attendance to be like Easter morning today. Thinking everyone and their grandmother would have come out hoping for that little extra blessing to push the Birds over the top. Alas…
Honestly though, I always laugh at that; as if God actually cares up there. To think that coming to church today, or saying some prayer a minute before kickoff would somehow catapult God out of the Divine armchair to give Sirianni a little extra wisdom out there. Like, why would God care, and more, care about one team over the other. What if Kansas City’s got the more devout players, anyway; or if God respects Andy Reid more than you all did? I mean would God really be behind an incompletion from Hurts or a fumble from Mahomes?
Surely, you can see how absurd all this can get. So I’m sorry my friends, no special prayers today, and no “Fly Eagles Fly” anthems either. From a New York Giants fan to you, my apologies.
—–
Seinfeld, one of the greatest comedies ever on TV, has an opening skit where Jerry makes fun of this sort of stuff, saying also how ridiculous it is that we cheer for a guy when he plays for our team, but then boo him if gets traded or signs elsewhere. This is the same human being that you were just standing and rooting for! But now that he’s wearing different clothes: boo, different clothes! Different shirt! Boo!
“And so, brothers and sisters, I could not speak to you as spiritual people, but rather as infants in Christ,” Paul writes. “I fed you with milk, for you were not ready for solid food (1 Corinthians 3:1-2).”
Man, what a barb! Milk, not solid food, you infants in Christ.
My friends, tribalism in sports, just as in politics, life, and faith, is like Gerber’s to God. If you can’t see past the colors, the skins, and the flags, well, then you’re not ready for the peas and carrots and the dessert to follow.
“For as long as there is jealousy and quarrelling among you, are you not of the flesh, and behaving according to human [infantile] inclinations (1 Corinthians 3:3)?”
And isn’t it so sad how this goes? That sometimes the very same human being we once so loved, is now the same human being we can no longer stand?
That at one point their lack of care about their personal appearance made us admire them for their sense of self and uniqueness of style; but now, it renders us ashamed at dinner parties and uncomfortable in formal introductions.
That at one point their humor and observations were the life around the Thanksgiving table; but now, their empty seat is greeted by everyone with quiet relief.
That at one point their Sunday address was like dew and honey; but now it’s all ill remembered and shaded by disappointment.
This is the same person who we were once just standing and rooting for. But now they are seen in a different color and in a different light.
It can be so jarring, and also, so sad.
Iain Pears, one of my favorite authors, writes the good opinion of society seems as easily lost as it is gained, and rarely do we ever understand fully how we accomplished either.
It’s hard when things change. And it’s even harder when those things change our perspective of a person we once knew and admired. But do those things, and do those changes, so alter the core of that person such that we should forget that deep down they are likely in some way the same person who we once loved?
Now, obviously, when the formula changes so drastically such that we are destroyed by others saying and doing things to us that they shouldn’t, our perception of them likely should change. For after all, God doesn’t want any of us to be doormats, and created us in flesh and blood unwired for unquestioning grace.
But here’s the great scandal of the gospel, my friends… That no matter the light we now see others in, and no matter how justified we believe that perception now is, God still sees all of us as God saw us before, as from the beginning, as God’s babies. As God’s own. And that is some amazing, unconditional, even if uncomfortable, divine grace.
—–
“‘You have heard it said that if you are angry with a brother or sister, and if you insult them, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, “You fool”, you will be liable to the fire. So if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, first be reconciled to your brother and to your sister (Matthew 5:22-24).’”
Be reconciled.
You see God’s field is different than our field — the one they’re playing on tonight, and the one we play on every day. For you can’t even properly trash talk on God’s field, for just saying “fool” is a 15-yard penalty.
On God’s field, we all come running out of the same tunnel and on God’s field we all go leaving on the same bus; we all have the same coach and there is only one team.
For on God’s field, it’s just a whole mess of us running around without helmets or pads; bruised and hurt, fumbled and intercepted, who aren’t on the same page and are rarely on the same play, but who are celebrated in the endzone of life all the same.
My friends, our message today in this building and on this holy field is simple: get off that puree and start eating those potatoes! Stop acting like infants and start behaving before others as God has demonstrated before us maturely in Christ.
So be reconciled to your brother, be reconciled to your sister, forgiving of your lover and in embrace of your neighbor.
Who are maybe, yes, wearing different colors and waving different banners, but who are yet underneath some likeness of the same.
Still children of God, loved, forgiven, and redeemed.
Amen.
First Lesson (1 Corinthians 3:1-3; 8-9)
And so, brothers and sisters, I could not speak to you as spiritual people, but rather as people of the flesh, as infants in Christ. I fed you with milk, not solid food, for you were not ready for solid food. Even now you are still not ready, for you are still of the flesh. For as long as there is jealousy and quarrelling among you, are you not of the flesh, and behaving according to human inclinations? The one who plants and the one who waters have a common purpose. For we are God’s servants, working together; you are God’s field, God’s building.
Second Lesson (Matthew 5:21-24)
“‘You have heard that it was said that if you are angry with a brother or sister, and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, “You fool”, you will be liable to the fire. So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift.’”
