Behaving Like Children

Adults usually hate being called immature – that charge can often be a stinging judgment on one’s behaviour.  But Paul does precisely that in a famous warning to the church at Corinth:  stop behaving like infants, he demands, and ‘act your age’.  What is going on here?  The Corinthian church seems to be professing itself to be spiritually wise, and wisdom is generally associated with more mature years.  But Paul severely turns upside down her own impression of her Christian understanding and behaviour.  What is mature about dividing the church with factional support of certain religious ‘heroes’ (Paul’s irateness here is performed through a significant four chapters); of practicing sexual immortality (5; 6:12ff.; 7:2); a boasting self-confidence (5:6; 8:1); of being involved in shameful public litigious disputes (ch. 6); of having more concern for herself than for others (8; 11:20ff.; 12:7) in the church-members’ own self-indulgence and assertion of their own rights/freedom (11:20ff.; 12:7; 14:5, 12); of mistakenly questioning Paul’s own apostolocity (ch. 9); of practicing disruptive worship (ch. 11); of possessing a spiritual superiority complex (chs. 12-14); and of denying the resurrection of the body (ch. 15)? 

            Jesus, of course, commanded his disciples to become like little children (Mtt. 18:3).  Becoming like ‘little children’ can perhaps mean many things, but one thing about youthfulness that is often overlooked, and which parents all too often discover is important to the child’s learning to negotiate the world around, is their natural inquisitiveness and spirit of interrogation, their frequent refusal to push past the banal, the offer of easy answers, and of false securities.  Children’s questions can be very disruptive of the certainties and authorities that we tend to prize so much. 

            Whatever Jesus’ command to become like little children meant, Paul certainly could not understand it as giving licence to spiritual immaturity, exalting a knowledge that is really ignorance (and, even worse, exalting ignorance itself as a virtue), or a self-assertiveness in the name of ‘authority’.  His appeal to needing to learn of Christ, and Christ crucified suggests that Christians do not have good reason for self-assertiveness (1Cor. 2:2).  In becoming a servant that was something that Christ ‘gave up’, or could not perform (Phil. 2:6ff.). 

            It should come as a shock to us to hear Christians understand and proclaim the Gospel in an assertive way.  A recent preacher at Viewfield tried to encourage us, among other things, to proclaim the Gospel in a manner that bears the power of God’s Word – we have supposedly been given the authority to do so.  (It is revealing that the sermon’s material followed a ‘humble’ recognition of an earlier mistake that the preacher had made – but yet in citing the mistake with his use of New Testament Greek the preacher asserted his authority that most in the congregation could not challenge).  We were told that the Gospel is not about argument or persuasion, but about powerful proclamation. 

            But when does the proclamation of an authority become abusive?  When its speaking renders someone else silent with no chance of appeal, argument, or further thinking.  As we speak the noise that is made comes from us.  In that moment another is silent.  But in a conversation, the one who is silent is invited to be so only momentarily – she then has an opportunity to speak, argue, debate, reason.  To deny that process is to wield a coercive authority, one that my experience has discovered Christians can do too freely, and without any thinking about what they are doing to others, about the assertive Gospel they are asking others to adhere to, about their own ill-founded reasoning, and so on.  In other words, they forget, among other things, that the Gospel is only known, as well as lived, “in part” or seen darkly as a poor reflection (1Cor. 13:12).  After all, it is not only the discipline of theological reflection on the scriptures but also reflection on history that reveals that human beings are ill-equipped to claim ‘authority’ in peaceful and thoughtfully compassionate imitation of Christ. 

            There are all kinds of biblical problems with this assertive understanding, of course.  But there is one thing in particular that is worth asking.  Is this the way of the cross?  Is this power-to-assert the way of the Christ who was crucified, who bore his suffering as the result of the questionable assertiveness that all-too-ignorant human beings make their own?  The way to the cross is the form that God’s creative Word takes – a Word that creates others and gives them space in love, and that subsequently invites their free participation the conversation God has with and for the world.  It looks like we still remain a very long way indeed from being able to practice the imitation of that One whose way before his Father and the world was characterised by exuberant love.  We remain, instead, those who cover our immaturity by tough and exalted assertions about what we think we know and can therefore do.  Paul’s warning remains timely – let us learn to give up our childish ways since they are wholly unlike the maturity demanded by the Gospel of Christ crucified. 

 

John C. McDowell

[http://www.oocities.org/johnnymcdowell]