'real' Christians
Sermon
As a teenager, I remember a visit to our church youth club by Sylvia. I can't remember her surname or a great deal about her, but I do remember that she had an impressive story to tell. She must have been in her twenties at the time, and related her history of alcohol abuse and prostitution and prison and doing all the sorts of terrible things I'd read about in newspapers but never actually encountered myself. Sylvia's previous lifestyle was about a million miles removed from my own, which was a middle-class, church background, and her history seemed to me to be breath-takingly glamourous. But then she'd found Jesus. I can't remember any details of her conversion, simply that it had completely changed her overnight into a "real" Christian, someone who went around spreading the word by giving her testimony and who was therefore, in my teenage eyes, almost as holy as God himself.
At about the same time, I remember just a snatch of an RE lesson we had in school, in which the teacher remarked how really bad people sometimes became really good and vice versa, but how most of us muddled along in the middle, just being ordinary, neither spectacularly bad nor spectacularly good. It seemed a bit unfair at the time, because I wondered how I could ever become a "real" Christian like Sylvia, since I was never likely to have a story to tell which was remotely like hers. Neither did anyone at my church. They were all middle-of-the-road Christians living an ordinary sort of life, and as I entered my teenage years they all began to seem incredibly boring and dull. In my teenage arrogance I doubted whether there was a "real" Christian among them.
I still find it impressive when people who have been into drugs and crime and so on, are suddenly converted and tell their story, but my ideas as to who or what constitutes a "real" Christian have radically changed. I now realise that there are many Christians who have practically no story to tell and who aren't the least impressive, but that God uses those Christians just as much as he uses the more flamboyant variety. Astonishing as it may seem, God really does love every human being, and will use every human being who is willing to be used by him, often in ways which nobody at all either sees or recognises.
For many years the writer of the so-called "Pastoral Epistles", that's 1 and 2 Timothy and Titus, was thought to have been St Paul. But scholars now believe that to be less likely, because all three of the Pastoral Epistles describe quite advanced church organisation, which probably occurred after the time of St Paul. The letters also have quite distinct differences from other letters written by Paul, so if they were written by him, they must have been written at a very late stage in his career. For instance, the opponents referred to in the letters weren't Judaizers as they are in all of Paul's other letters, but those stressing the importance of esoteric knowledge - the Gnostics. Gnosticism wasn't a problem in Paul's day, but came to the forefront from the second century onwards, when there had been much more time for reflection on Jesus and on all that he meant. The problem in Paul's day was quite different. It was whether or not gentiles should be accepted into the Christian Church without being circumcised. In those very early days, Christianity was a new sect of Judaism, so traditional Jews thought anyone who joined them should obey the Jewish law, the Torah. Paul argued that Christianity was new, and that gentiles should be welcomed just as they were, beacuse the law of Jesus Christ superceded the Torah. By the time the Pastoral epistles were written, that problem seems to have been resolved, and the new problem is people veering away from the faith in wild and wonderful heresies which gathered under the collective title of "Gnosticism" or special knowledge.
It also seems unlikely that Paul would have described himself as "a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man", the description used in today's reading from the first chapter of the first letter to Timothy. Paul might have been a persecutor, but he wasn't violent. He had stood by watching while Stephen was stoned, but he'd only minded the coats, he hadn't taken part in the stoning himself (Acts 7:58). Neither was he a blasphemer. He was a Pharisee, and Pharisees were the most orthodox religious group of their day. In fact Paul had been a persecutor because he was so religious. He persecuted the earliest Christians because he saw it as his religious duty to prevent heresy within Judaism.
By his own words, the writer of the letter to Timothy doesn't seem to have been a particularly religious man, since truly religious people don't blaspheme and aren't generally violent. The violence perpetrated in the name of religion is rarely carried out by the truly spiritual people, but by those who have quite different motives. But whoever the writer was, he seems to have had one of those impressive, overnight conversions and changed from being very bad to being very good. And he wants other people to share in the good things that happened to him. "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners," he says, and adds, "of whom I am the worst."
In our own day there sometimes seems to be something of a split within the church between those who have been Christians forever, and those who have recently come to faith, often via a dramatic conversion. A week or two ago, we had a training day for our forthcoming Alpha course. During the morning, a couple of strangers wandered in to look at the church, and were surprised at all the bustle and activity that was going on. They asked what it was for. When they heard it was a training day for Alpha, they said, "Oh! You're charismatics, then," in a rather dismissive and condemnatory way. Since we're very middle-of-the-road, we all blinked. It seemed a strange way to categorise us, but it did highlight one of the difficulties of introducing new Christians to the church.
We all have our assumptions, and those assumptions may not be accurate. Those within the church sometimes classify such courses as Alpha as "happy-clappy" in a rather derogatory way, as though anyone who enjoys lively worship can never be "one of us". Those new to the church sometimes class any church member who prefers a quiet and traditional style of worship as not a "real" Christian. Both assumptions are completely wrong and we do ourselves a disservice if we nourish those ideas.
We need to take the best for God wherever we can find it. We need to rejoice in folk like the writer of the letter to Timothy, who have become completely changed overnight. We also need to rejoice in those Christians who have never experienced a sudden conversion but who are quietly growing in the faith and who keep traditional worship alive and strong. We need to be generous to each other, so that we may learn from each other and above all get to know each other well. We need to make friends with those newcomers who come through our doors, and welcome them with open arms. And newcomers need to respond to our overtures of friendliness and learn alongside us.
And if we can do all that in the name of Christ, then we'll have a church which is strong and effective and nourishing and supportive, where we are all appointed to the service of Jesus. And then perhaps we'll be able to acknowledge that although we're all different, we're all "real" Christians.
At about the same time, I remember just a snatch of an RE lesson we had in school, in which the teacher remarked how really bad people sometimes became really good and vice versa, but how most of us muddled along in the middle, just being ordinary, neither spectacularly bad nor spectacularly good. It seemed a bit unfair at the time, because I wondered how I could ever become a "real" Christian like Sylvia, since I was never likely to have a story to tell which was remotely like hers. Neither did anyone at my church. They were all middle-of-the-road Christians living an ordinary sort of life, and as I entered my teenage years they all began to seem incredibly boring and dull. In my teenage arrogance I doubted whether there was a "real" Christian among them.
I still find it impressive when people who have been into drugs and crime and so on, are suddenly converted and tell their story, but my ideas as to who or what constitutes a "real" Christian have radically changed. I now realise that there are many Christians who have practically no story to tell and who aren't the least impressive, but that God uses those Christians just as much as he uses the more flamboyant variety. Astonishing as it may seem, God really does love every human being, and will use every human being who is willing to be used by him, often in ways which nobody at all either sees or recognises.
For many years the writer of the so-called "Pastoral Epistles", that's 1 and 2 Timothy and Titus, was thought to have been St Paul. But scholars now believe that to be less likely, because all three of the Pastoral Epistles describe quite advanced church organisation, which probably occurred after the time of St Paul. The letters also have quite distinct differences from other letters written by Paul, so if they were written by him, they must have been written at a very late stage in his career. For instance, the opponents referred to in the letters weren't Judaizers as they are in all of Paul's other letters, but those stressing the importance of esoteric knowledge - the Gnostics. Gnosticism wasn't a problem in Paul's day, but came to the forefront from the second century onwards, when there had been much more time for reflection on Jesus and on all that he meant. The problem in Paul's day was quite different. It was whether or not gentiles should be accepted into the Christian Church without being circumcised. In those very early days, Christianity was a new sect of Judaism, so traditional Jews thought anyone who joined them should obey the Jewish law, the Torah. Paul argued that Christianity was new, and that gentiles should be welcomed just as they were, beacuse the law of Jesus Christ superceded the Torah. By the time the Pastoral epistles were written, that problem seems to have been resolved, and the new problem is people veering away from the faith in wild and wonderful heresies which gathered under the collective title of "Gnosticism" or special knowledge.
It also seems unlikely that Paul would have described himself as "a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man", the description used in today's reading from the first chapter of the first letter to Timothy. Paul might have been a persecutor, but he wasn't violent. He had stood by watching while Stephen was stoned, but he'd only minded the coats, he hadn't taken part in the stoning himself (Acts 7:58). Neither was he a blasphemer. He was a Pharisee, and Pharisees were the most orthodox religious group of their day. In fact Paul had been a persecutor because he was so religious. He persecuted the earliest Christians because he saw it as his religious duty to prevent heresy within Judaism.
By his own words, the writer of the letter to Timothy doesn't seem to have been a particularly religious man, since truly religious people don't blaspheme and aren't generally violent. The violence perpetrated in the name of religion is rarely carried out by the truly spiritual people, but by those who have quite different motives. But whoever the writer was, he seems to have had one of those impressive, overnight conversions and changed from being very bad to being very good. And he wants other people to share in the good things that happened to him. "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners," he says, and adds, "of whom I am the worst."
In our own day there sometimes seems to be something of a split within the church between those who have been Christians forever, and those who have recently come to faith, often via a dramatic conversion. A week or two ago, we had a training day for our forthcoming Alpha course. During the morning, a couple of strangers wandered in to look at the church, and were surprised at all the bustle and activity that was going on. They asked what it was for. When they heard it was a training day for Alpha, they said, "Oh! You're charismatics, then," in a rather dismissive and condemnatory way. Since we're very middle-of-the-road, we all blinked. It seemed a strange way to categorise us, but it did highlight one of the difficulties of introducing new Christians to the church.
We all have our assumptions, and those assumptions may not be accurate. Those within the church sometimes classify such courses as Alpha as "happy-clappy" in a rather derogatory way, as though anyone who enjoys lively worship can never be "one of us". Those new to the church sometimes class any church member who prefers a quiet and traditional style of worship as not a "real" Christian. Both assumptions are completely wrong and we do ourselves a disservice if we nourish those ideas.
We need to take the best for God wherever we can find it. We need to rejoice in folk like the writer of the letter to Timothy, who have become completely changed overnight. We also need to rejoice in those Christians who have never experienced a sudden conversion but who are quietly growing in the faith and who keep traditional worship alive and strong. We need to be generous to each other, so that we may learn from each other and above all get to know each other well. We need to make friends with those newcomers who come through our doors, and welcome them with open arms. And newcomers need to respond to our overtures of friendliness and learn alongside us.
And if we can do all that in the name of Christ, then we'll have a church which is strong and effective and nourishing and supportive, where we are all appointed to the service of Jesus. And then perhaps we'll be able to acknowledge that although we're all different, we're all "real" Christians.
