Preaching the Cross

"For Christ did not send me to baptize, but to preach the gospel—not with wisdom and eloquence, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power." -1 Cor. 1:17

In his opening greeting to the Corinthian church, the apostle Paul exposes the divisions within the congregation, some of which have to do with which members were baptized by which Christian leader.  Paul concludes the opening with the verse posted above, that his mission is not to baptize but to preach the gospel, not out of his wisdom and eloquence but in honesty and truthfulness.

Paul declare that he does not preach with "wisdom and eloquence" because he does not want to empty the cross of Christ of its power.  When I read this passage this week, I was struck by that particular phrase in this verses in thinking about our ministry as a church.

It left me pondering how I seek after some kind of wisdom or eloquent language when trying to serve as a pastor, prepare a sermon, lead a prayer, or organize an event.  How tempting it is to try to "explain away" parts of faith or make mysteries seem like mechanical operations or scientific reactions.

I think we do this because we really don't know what to do with the cross of Christ.  It's confusing to try and figure out why the death of a wandering Jewish rabbi in the midst of the Roman occupation of Judea has some kind of eternal salvific power for us in the twenty-first century.  To many people the idea that Christ's death satisfies God's righteous wrath doesn't make sense either because our understanding of universal structures and powers is so different now from 2000 year ago.  Still others wrestle with how Christ's death would overturn some kind of cosmic enslavement to sin that humanity had been trapped in.

All of these descriptions of the meaning and significance of Christ's death are based in the Bible, and really, I believe most of the New Testament is an extended conversation among various Christians believers seeking to answer the question, "Why did Jesus die?"

I remember in seminary when our professors explained the multiple interpretations of the cross of Christ, all found in the New Testament and later expounded upon by theologians, but they ultimately confessed that the cross is a mystery.  It does possess a power, but it is a power not easily described or explained in logic.  It is actually because of the illogical nature of the cross that the gift of faith is so essential to our Christian lives.

But the reality is there is a power in it, and anyone who has professed faith in Jesus Christ has in some way acknowledged that power.  The power of sacrifice for others, the power of love over sin, the power of life in the face of death.  Some way the power of the cross becomes real to us, and it is often not because of anyone's wisdom or eloquence.  Instead the power of the cross often comes when a hand reaches out to take your own in a moment of grief; when tears well in your eyes during a hymn or an anthem; when you go out to serve others; when you sit in the silence of prayer.

The power of the cross is a mystery, and we do well to rest in the mystery, to let go of the temptations for wisdom and eloquence, and, in this season of Lent, to let the power of the cross take hold of us again in new ways.