How the church aims to shape an alienated world

Paul’s letters to the Corinthians have some interesting backstory. Today’s passage is from the second letter. In-between Paul’s two letters, teachers from Jerusalem had come to Corinth and began teaching that Gentiles who wanted to follow Jesus had to follow Jewish tradition. Paul was one of the most fervent Jewish religious leaders of his time before his conversion, so if anyone would be able to see the truth in the old Jewish teachings and point those traditions to Christ, it would be him.

But Paul didn’t do that. Paul instead lays out a theology of reconciliation and direct connection to God. This is in sharp contrast to the teachings of the Pharisees in Jesus’ time, who limited direct connection with God to a select few. This is also in sharp contrast when directed to a group that had been historically excluded from the faithful Israelites. Paul said that not only were these new Christians, insiders—they were ambassadors! They would be the ones responsible for carrying the good news of Christ to other people and groups. Instead of using the power and authority of the Jewish teachers coming to Corinth, Paul took that power and gave it to the new Christians. This was a huge upset.

What does this mean for us today? It can mean a lot of things, but one striking thing I pull from that is that God has a knack for taking the historic outsiders, the ones who had been shunned by the “system” of organized religion, and making them the spokespeople for God’s hope. There are times we’re all going to feel like we’re the new Christians struggling for a seat at the table; but, for many of us who have been Christians for years, there will also be times when we’re the Jewish teachers, telling people that they too can be let into the inner circle if only they practice their faith as carefully as us.

I think about how the church has historically treated gay, lesbian, and trans people wanting to encounter God. These people have undoubtedly been the outsiders, the people peering in from the outside and wondering if the church could be a place for them. With the recent decision from the Methodist church on openness to welcoming these people into our congregations, I feel like an upset much like what Paul hinted at is on the verge of happening. But we’re not quite there yet.

I’ve talked about this on here before, but I did not grow up in the Methodist church. I grew up in a much more conservative Evangelical church. Excluding gay, lesbian, and trans people was what many of my church friends considered to be a cornerstone of their faith. It wasn’t long before I started questioning that, and eventually just rejected outright when I met godly people that didn’t fit the mold that we had created.

For a long time, I contented myself with thinking that I simply wasn’t one of those Christians that hated these outsiders. Simply knowing that was enough for me to feel good about my place there. But after meeting numerous gay, lesbian, and trans people who were legitimately scared of me when I mentioned I was a Christian, I soon found that it wasn’t enough to simply wash my hands of that when there was still injustice happening. When injustice exists, silence is complicity. Even with the strides toward acceptance in the church, there is still injustice and inequality in the church for LGBTQ people—and to really be free of that myself, I had to take a stand against it.

As we’re moving toward acceptance of LGBTQ people in the church, it can be very tempting for us long-time insiders to simply smile and act like nothing has happened to hurt these people, or even keep them on the outskirts of the church where they take directions from us. This is not enough. We need gay, lesbian, and trans people in our small groups; we need them on our leadership teams and in our worship bands. We need to go beyond simply opening the doors for them and make them ambassadors, much like people before had done for us. Anything less than this is not equality; it’s just another wall we have to keep people away from God.