Homily 3 — First Corinthians 1, verses 10 to 17

“Now I beg you, brothers and sisters, through the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you all speak the same thing, and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be perfected together in the same mind and in the same judgment.” [a]

What I have been saying all along, that we must frame our rebukes gently and little by little, Paul does here as well. He is about to take up a matter full of dangers, one able to tear the church up from its foundations, and so he uses very mild language. His word is that he “begs” them, and begs them “through Christ,” as though even he were not enough by himself to make this plea and to win it. But what does he mean by “I beg you through Christ”? It is as if he said: “I call on Christ to fight on my side and to help me: Christ, whose name has been wronged and insulted.” What a solemn way to speak! He does it so that they will not turn hard and shameless, for sin makes people unruly.

That is why, if you rebuke someone sharply right away, you make him fierce and brazen; but if you put him to shame, you bend his neck, you check his confidence, you make him hang his head. Since this was Paul’s aim too, he is content for the moment to beg them through the name of Christ. And what, of all things, is he asking for?

“That you all speak the same thing, and that there be no divisions among you.” The very force of the word “schism” (I mean the name itself) was accusation enough. For it was not that they had become many parts, each whole in itself; rather, the one body that had been there at first had perished. If they had been whole churches, there might have been many of them; but if they were divisions, then that first one was gone. For a thing that is whole does not become many wholes when it is cut into many parts; on the contrary, even the one it was is lost. That is the nature of divisions.

Next, because he had dealt with them sharply by using the word “schism,” he softens and soothes them again, saying, “That you be perfectly joined together in the same mind and in the same judgment.” That is, since he had said, “That you all speak the same thing,” he adds: “Do not suppose that I want agreement in words only. I am looking for the harmony that belongs to the mind.” [c]

But there is such a thing as agreement in words, and heartfelt agreement too, that still does not cover every subject. That is why he added this: “That you be perfected together.” For someone who is united with others in one thing but disagrees with them in another is no longer “perfected,” no longer fitted together into complete agreement. There is also such a thing as harmony of opinions where there is not yet harmony of feeling: for instance, when we have the same faith but are not joined together in love. Then we are one in opinion, since we think the same things, but not one in feeling.

And that was how things stood at that time: one person was choosing one leader, and another person another. That is why he says it is necessary to agree both in “mind” and in “judgment.” For the divisions did not come from any difference in faith, but from their judgment being split apart by the human love of quarreling.

But since a person who is blamed is not ashamed as long as there are no witnesses, notice how he does not let them deny the fact, but brings some forward to testify.

Verse 11: “For it has been made known to me about you, my brothers and sisters, by those of Chloe’s household.” He did not say this at the very beginning either. First he brought his charge, as one who trusted his informants; if he had not trusted them, he would not have found fault, for Paul was not someone who believed things lightly. So he did not say “it has been made known” at once, so that he would not seem to be blaming them on others’ word; and he does not leave out all mention of the informants, so that he would not seem to be speaking only on his own authority.

And again he calls them “brothers and sisters.” For although the fault is plain, nothing prevents our still calling people brothers and sisters. Notice his good sense, too, in naming no particular person, but the whole household, so as not to turn them against the informer. In this way he both protects the man and opens the accusation without fear. For he had in view the good not of the one side only, but of the other as well. That is why he does not say, “It has been reported to me by certain people,” but also names the household, so that they would not suppose he was making it up.

What was reported? “That there are quarrels among you.” So when he is rebuking them himself, he says, “That there be no divisions among you”; but when he is reporting what others said, he puts it more gently, saying, “For it has been reported to me … that there are quarrels among you,” so as not to bring trouble on the informants. [d]

Next he also names the kind of quarrel.

Verse 12: “That each one of you says, ‘I am of Paul,’ and ‘I of Apollos,’ and ‘I of Cephas.’” He means: “When I say quarrels, I do not mean quarrels over private matters, but quarrels of the more serious kind.” “That each one of you says”: for the corruption ran through not a part of the church but the whole of it.

And yet they were not saying this about him, or about Peter, or about Apollos. But he shows that if these men were not to be leaned on, much less were others. That they had not in fact been speaking about these men he says further on: “And these things I have applied in a figure to myself and to Apollos, so that you may learn from us not to go beyond what is written.” For if it was not right for them to call themselves by the name of Paul, and of Apollos, and of Cephas, much less by the name of any others. If it was not right to enroll themselves under the Teacher, and under the first of the apostles, and under one who had instructed so many people, much less under men who were nothing.

So he sets down these names by way of exaggeration, trying to draw them away from their disease. Besides, he makes his argument less harsh by not naming the crude men who were dividing the church, but hiding them, as behind masks, under the names of the apostles.

“I am of Paul, and I of Apollos, and I of Cephas.” It was not to rank himself above Peter that he set Peter’s name last; he was putting Peter before himself, and by a great deal. He arranged his words in a rising order, so that no one would suppose he was doing it out of envy, or belittling the honor of others out of jealousy. That is also why he puts his own name first. The man who puts himself first in line to be rejected does it not from love of honor, but from utter contempt for this kind of reputation. He sets himself, you see, in the path of the whole attack, and then mentions Apollos, and then Cephas. So he did not do this to make himself great; in speaking of what was wrong, he applies the needed correction to his own person first.

That those who attached themselves to this man or that were in the wrong is obvious. And he rightly rebukes them, as if saying: “You do wrong in saying, ‘I am of Paul, and I of Apollos, and I of Cephas.’” But why did he add, “and I of Christ”? For even if those who attached themselves to men were in the wrong, surely those who dedicated themselves to Christ were not. [e]

But his charge was not that they called themselves by the name of Christ; it was that they did not all call themselves by that name alone. And I think he added this on his own, wanting to make the accusation weightier and to point out that by this rule Christ must be counted as belonging to one party only, although they themselves were not using the name that way. That this was what he was hinting at he made clear in what follows. Verse 13: “Is Christ divided?” What he says comes to this: “You have cut Christ in pieces and parceled out his body.” Here is anger! Here is rebuke! Here are words full of indignation! For whenever he asks a question instead of arguing, he treats the absurdity as already admitted.

But some say he was hinting at something else when he said, “Christ is divided,” as if he had said, “He has divided the church among men and parted it, taking one share for himself and giving them the other.” Then, in what follows, he works to overthrow this absurdity, saying, “Was Paul crucified for you, or were you baptized into the name of Paul?”

Notice his love for Christ: from here on he brings the whole matter to a point in his own name, showing, and more than showing, that this honor belongs to no one else. And so that no one would think envy moved him to say these things, he keeps putting himself forward. Notice his consideration, too. He does not say, “Did Paul make the world? Did Paul bring you into being out of nothing?” He names only the things the faithful held as their choicest treasures and cared about most anxiously: the cross, and baptism, and the blessings that follow from these. For God’s love for humankind is shown by the creation of the world too, but by nothing so much as by his stooping down to meet us through the cross. And he did not say, “Did Paul die for you?” but, “Was Paul crucified?”, setting down the kind of death as well.

“Or were you baptized into the name of Paul?” Again, he does not say, “Did Paul baptize you?” For he did baptize many. But the question was not by whom they had been baptized, but into whose name they had been baptized. Since this too was a cause of the divisions, their being called after the names of those who had baptized them, he corrects this error as well, saying, “Were you baptized into the name of Paul?” He says: “Do not tell me who baptized, but into whose name. For the question is not who does the baptizing, but who is called upon in the baptism. He is the one who forgives our sins.”

And at this point he halts the discussion and does not pursue the subject any further. He does not say, “Did Paul announce to you the good things to come? Did Paul promise you the kingdom of heaven?” Why, then, I ask, does he not add these questions too? Because promising a kingdom and being crucified are not at all the same thing. The first carried no danger and brought no shame; the second carried all of these. Besides, he proves the first from the second. Having said (Romans 8, verse 32), “He who did not spare his own Son,” he adds, “how will he not also with him freely give us all things?” And again (Romans 5, verse 10): “For if, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, much more, being reconciled, we will be saved.” That was one reason for his not adding what I just mentioned. Another is that the one they did not yet have, while the other they had already experienced. The one was still a promise; the other had already taken place.

Verse 14: “I thank God that I baptized none of you except Crispus and Gaius.” As if to say: “Why are you so elated at having baptized, when I, for my part, even give thanks that I did not?” [f]

Saying this, with a kind of divine skill he does away with their swollen pride on this point. He does away not with the power of baptism (far from it!) but with the folly of those who were puffed up at having done the baptizing. He does it first by showing that the gift is not theirs, and second by thanking God for this. For baptism truly is a great thing; but its greatness is not the work of the one who baptizes, but of him who is called upon in the baptism. As far as human labor goes, baptizing is nothing; it is much less than preaching the good news. Yes, I say it again: baptism is great indeed, and without baptism it is impossible to obtain the kingdom. Still, a man of no special excellence is able to baptize, but preaching the good news takes great labor.

Verse 15: He also gives the reason he is thankful that he baptized no one. What, then, is this reason? “So that no one may say that you were baptized into my own name.” Well, did he mean that they were saying this in those other cases? Not at all. But he says: “I am afraid the disease might go even as far as that. For if a party springs up when insignificant people of little worth do the baptizing, then had I, the first to proclaim baptism, baptized many, they would likely have formed a party and not only called themselves by my name, but credited the baptism to me as well.” For if so great an evil arose from those of lower rank, from those of higher rank it might have gone on to something far more serious.

Verse 16: Then, having shamed those who were unhealthy in this respect, he adds, “I also baptized the household of Stephanas,” and again he pulls down their pride, saying besides, “I do not know whether I baptized anyone else.” By this he shows that he did not go out of his way to enjoy the honor this brought him among the crowd, and that he did not take up this work for the sake of glory.

Verse 17: And not only by these words but by the next ones too he firmly puts down their pride, saying, “Christ did not send me to baptize, but to preach the good news.” For the harder part, the part that took much toil and a soul of iron, the part on which everything depended, was this. And that is why it was put into Paul’s hands.

And why did he baptize, if he was not sent to baptize? Not in defiance of the one who sent him, but by working in this case beyond his assignment. For he does not say, “I was forbidden,” but, “I was not sent for this, but for what was most necessary.” Preaching the good news is a work perhaps for one or two; but baptizing is for everyone who holds the priesthood. When a person has been instructed and persuaded, anyone at all could take him and baptize him; the rest is all brought about by the will of the one who comes forward and by the grace of God. But when unbelievers are to be instructed, there must be great labor and great wisdom, and in those days there was danger too. In the first case the whole thing is already done: the one about to be initiated has been persuaded, and it is no great thing to baptize a man once he is persuaded. But in the second case the labor is great: to change the settled will, to alter the bent of the mind, to tear error up by the roots and plant the truth in its place.

Not that he spells all this out, or argues in so many words that baptism takes no labor but preaching does. For he always knows how to lower his tone; whereas when he compares the wisdom of the pagans he is very forceful, since the subject allows him more vehement language.

So it was not in defiance of the one who sent him that he baptized. It was as in the case of the widows. Although the apostles had said (Acts 6, verse 2), “It is not right that we should leave the word of God and serve tables,” he carried out the service of a deacon (Acts 12, verse 25), not in defiance of them but as something beyond his assignment. So it is here too. Even now we entrust this task to the simpler presbyters, but the word of teaching to the wiser, for that is where the labor and the sweat are. That is why he himself says (First Timothy 5, verse 17), “Let the elders who rule well be counted worthy of double honor, especially those who labor in the word and in teaching.”

For teaching the wrestlers in the games is the work of a spirited and skillful trainer, but placing the crown on the winner’s head can be done by someone who cannot even wrestle, although it is the crown that gives the winner his glory. So it is with baptism too. It is impossible to be saved without it, yet the one who baptizes does no great thing, since he finds the will already prepared.

“Not with wisdom of words, so that the cross of Christ would not be emptied of its power.” [k]

Having brought down the swollen pride of those who were arrogant about their baptizing, he now shifts his ground to meet those who boasted of the wisdom of the pagans, and against them he arms himself more forcefully. To those who were puffed up about baptizing he said, “I give thanks that I baptized no one,” and, “For Christ did not send me to baptize.” There he speaks neither forcefully nor with argument; having just hinted at his meaning in a few words, he moves on quickly. But here, at the very outset, he strikes a heavy blow, saying, “so that the cross of Christ would not be made void.”

Why, then, pride yourself on something that ought to make you hide your face? If this wisdom is at war with the cross and fights against the good news, it is not right to boast about it; you ought to withdraw in shame. This is the reason the apostles were not wise men: not because the gift was weak, but so that the good news they preached would not be harmed. So the kind of people I just mentioned were not the ones who championed the word; rather, they were among those who slandered it. It was the unlearned who established it. This was able to check empty glory, to put down arrogance, and to teach people to think modestly of themselves.

“But if it was ‘not with wisdom of speech,’ why did they send Apollos, who was eloquent?” The answer is that it was not because they trusted in his power of speech, but because he was “mighty in the Scriptures” and “refuted the Jews” (Acts 18, verses 24 and 28). Besides, the point in question was that the leaders and first sowers of the word were not eloquent men. These were the very ones who needed some great power to drive out error in the first place; and it was then, at the very outset, that abundant strength was needed. Now he who could do without educated people at first, if afterward he admitted some who were eloquent, did so not because he needed them, but because he would make no distinctions. For just as he did not need wise men to accomplish whatever he wished, so, if any such men were found later, he did not reject them on that account.

But prove to me that Peter and Paul were eloquent. You cannot, for they were “unlearned and ignorant men.” When Christ was sending his disciples out into the world, he first showed them his power in Palestine and said (Luke 22, verse 35), “When I sent you out without a purse, a bag, or sandals, did you lack anything?”, and from then on he allowed them to have both a bag and a purse. He has done the same here. For the point was to show Christ’s power, not to turn people away from the faith because of their pagan learning, if they were coming near. [l]

So when the Greeks charge the disciples with being uneducated, let us be even quicker to make the charge than they are. And let no one say, “Paul was wise.” Instead, while we praise those among them who were great in wisdom and admired for their fine speech, let us admit that all on our side were uneducated. For this too will be no slight defeat they suffer at our hands, and so the victory will be brilliant indeed.

I have said these things because I once heard a Christian arguing in a ridiculous way with a Greek, and in their fight both of them were ruining their own cases. For what the Christian ought to have said, the Greek was asserting; and what one would naturally expect the Greek to say, the Christian was pleading for himself. It went like this. The argument was about Paul and Plato. The Greek was trying to show that Paul was unlearned and ignorant; but the Christian, out of simplicity, was eager to prove that Paul was more eloquent than Plato. And so the victory went to the Greek, because this argument was allowed to stand.

For if Paul was a greater man than Plato, many would likely object that it was not by grace but by his fine speech that he won. So the Christian’s claim was working for the Greek, and what the Greek said was working for the Christian. For if Paul was uneducated and still overcame Plato, the victory, as I was saying, was brilliant: Plato’s disciples, as a body, were drawn to Paul, unlearned as he was, and persuaded, and brought over to his side. From this it is plain that the good news came about not by human wisdom, but by the grace of God.

So that we do not fall into the same error and become a laughingstock by arguing this way with the Greeks whenever we have a dispute with them, let us charge the apostles with lack of learning, for this very charge is praise. And when they say the apostles were crude, let us follow up the remark and say that they were also untaught, and illiterate, and poor, and lowly, and stupid, and obscure. It is no slander on the apostles to say so. It is even their glory that, being such men, they outshone the whole world. For these untrained, crude, illiterate men defeated the wise and the powerful and the tyrants, and those who flourished in wealth and glory and every outward good, as completely as if those had not been men at all. From this it is clear that the power of the cross is great, and that these things were not done by human strength. For what happened does not keep to the course of nature; what was done was beyond all nature. And when something happens beyond nature, far beyond it, and on the side of what is right and useful, it is quite plain that it is done by some divine power working with it.

And look: the fisherman, the tentmaker, the tax collector, the ignorant, the illiterate, coming from the far-off country of Palestine, drove the philosophers, the masters of oratory, the skilled debaters off their own ground, and alone prevailed against them in a short time. They did it in the midst of many dangers: the opposition of peoples and kings, the struggle of nature itself, the length of time, the fierce resistance of long-rooted custom, demons in arms, the devil in battle array stirring up everyone, kings, rulers, peoples, nations, cities, barbarians, Greeks, philosophers, orators, sophists, historians, laws, courts, all kinds of punishments, deaths beyond counting and of every sort. And yet all these were refuted and gave way when the fisherman spoke, just like fine dust that cannot stand up to the rush of violent winds.

Now what I say is this: let us learn to argue with the Greeks in this way, so that we are not like animals and cattle, but prepared to speak about “the hope that is in us” (First Peter 3, verse 15). And let us stay a while to work out this point, which is no small one, and let us say to them: How did the weak overcome the strong? How did the twelve overcome the world? Not by using the same armor, but by fighting naked against men in arms.

For tell me: suppose twelve men with no experience of war leaped into the middle of a huge, armed host of soldiers, not only unarmed themselves but weak in body as well. Suppose they received no harm from them and were not even wounded, though countless weapons were aimed at them. Suppose that while the spears were striking them, with bare, naked bodies they overthrew all their enemies, using no weapons but striking with their hands, and in the end killed some and took others captive and led them away, without receiving so much as a wound themselves. Would anyone ever have said that this was the work of men? And yet the trophy of the apostles is far more wonderful than that. For a naked man escaping a wound is not nearly so wonderful as an ordinary, unlettered person, a fisherman, overcoming such formidable cleverness, and not being turned from his purpose by fewness, or by poverty, or by dangers, or by the hold of long habit, or by the great strictness of the commands he taught, or by the daily deaths, or by the multitude of those who had been deceived, or by the great reputation of the deceivers.

Let this, I say, be our way of overpowering them: by our way of life rather than by words. For this is the main battle; this is the unanswerable argument, the argument from conduct. For though we give countless lessons of philosophy in words, if we do not show a life better than theirs, we gain nothing. It is not what is said that draws their attention; what they ask is what we do. And they say: “First obey your own words, and then give advice to others.” [q]

But if, while you say that the blessings in the world to come are beyond counting, you yourself seem nailed down to this world, just as if no such things existed, your works … weeping beyond all measure over those who have died, doing … they turn it over often in their minds. And this is what keeps unbelievers from becoming Christians.

So let us win them by our life. Many, even among the uneducated, have astonished the minds of philosophers in that way, because they displayed in themselves the philosophy that lies in deeds, and sent out a voice clearer than a trumpet by their way of life and their self-denial. For this is stronger than the tongue. But when I say, “One ought not to hold a grudge,” and then do every kind of wrong to the Greek, how will I be able to win him with words while I am frightening him away with deeds? So let us catch them by our way of life. With souls like these let us build up the church, and let these be the wealth we store up.

There is nothing to weigh against a soul, not even the whole world. So even if you give countless treasures to the poor, you will do no work equal to that of the one who turns one soul around. “For whoever brings out the precious from the worthless will be as my mouth” (Jeremiah 15, verse 19): so he says. To have pity on the poor is a great good, I grant; but it is nothing equal to drawing people away from error. For the one who does this is like Paul and Peter. We are allowed to take up their good news, not with dangers like theirs, enduring famines and epidemics and every other evil (for the present is a time of peace), but so as to show the diligence that comes from zeal. For even while we sit at home we may practice this kind of fishing. Whoever has a friend or a relative or someone living in his house, let him say these things and do these things, and he will be like Peter and Paul.

And why do I say Peter and Paul? He will be the mouth of Christ. For he says, “Whoever brings out the precious from the worthless will be as my mouth.” And if you do not persuade today, you will persuade tomorrow. And if you never persuade, you will still have your own reward in full. And even if you do not persuade all, you will persuade a few out of many. For the apostles did not persuade all people either; but still they spoke with all, and for all they have their reward. For God does not usually hand out the crowns according to the outcome of the good things done, but according to the intention of those who do them. Though you pay down only two small coins, he accepts them; and what he did in the case of the widow, he will do also in the case of those who teach.

So do not despise the few because you cannot save the world, and do not hold back from the lesser things out of longing for great ones. If you cannot take charge of a hundred, take charge of ten; if you cannot manage ten, do not despise even five; if you cannot manage five, do not overlook one; and if you cannot manage one, do not despair even so, or hold back what you are able to do. Do you not see how, in matters of trade, those engaged in it make their profit not only from gold but from silver too? For if we do not slight the little things, we will keep hold of the great ones as well; but if we despise the small, we will not easily lay hands on the others either. This is how individuals grow rich, gathering both small things and great. So let us act, so that, enriched in all things, we may obtain the kingdom of heaven, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom be glory, power, and honor to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.