Glory to Jesus Christ! Glory forever!

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

“Stand up straight! Shoulders back, feet flat, head level, eyes fixed squarely, hair combed neatly, suit pressed and ironed, shoes waxed and polished. Speak calmy. Act dutifully. Command some respect,” … this sounds like a paragraph out of a mid-century men’s quarterly. This sounds like a description of a proper, presentable man; a civil man; a gentleman. But does it sound like a Christian? Does it sound like a fitting description of our saints? We hear St. Paul’s description of himself in his First Epistle to the Corinthians:

“To the present hour we both hunger and thirst, and we are poorly clothed, and beaten, and homeless. And we labor, working with our own hands. Being reviled, we bless; being persecuted, we endure; being defamed, we entreat. We have been made as the scum of the earth (the filth of the world), the offscouring of things until now” (1 Cor 4:11-13).

Brethren, the ideals of the world—that is, the ideal social etiquette, and the ideal social values—are at odds with the Christian ideal. We live in a world that demands perfection and encourages ambition, but in all the wrong ways. We live in a world that values “presentability,” the veneer of respect, the appearance of power. What lies underneath the man in the mirror is of secondary importance, or worse, of no consideration whatsoever. “Having the form of godliness, but denying the power thereof, from such turn away” (2 Tim 3:5). The world loves the form of dignity, the form of godliness. But God loves true godliness.

Brethren, in today’s Epistle, the Apostle Paul lays out his case for the mark and the nature of true apostleship and in turn, true discipleship. In the broader context of today’s reading, St. Paul argues that the true apostle is none other than a “servant of Christ… as one entrusted with the mysteries God has revealed” (1 Cor. 4:1). The true apostle and the true pastor (and yes, the true deacon) must be the servant (diakonos) of all. We must serve and sacrifice; we must “get our hands dirty,” for the sake of the Body of Christ. Moreover, the gift of the gospel of Jesus Christ is no reason for boasting. The gospel is not a “mark of honor,” that is, to the world. The gospel is not our meal ticket. The gospel is not our stage pass. No, if anything, the gospel is the reason for our shame; it is the reason for our derision; it is the reason for our hunger, and thirst, and nakedness, and homelessness, and cursing, even our persecution and death.

“But,” we may object, “can’t we have it all?” Can’t we have it all…? Can we not be servants of Christ, and model, loyal citizens of an idolatrous nation? Can we not be disciples of Christ and upstanding and respectable and dutiful members of a godless society? Can we not be both poor in spirit and rich in the things of the world? Can we not be both meek and gentle and of great earthly authority and power? Can we not reign in Christ and reign in the world? This is how the Corinthians—to whom St. Paul directs this epistle—[this is how] they were thinking, and he rebuffed them, saying,

Already you have all you want! Already you have become rich! You have begun to reign—and that without us! … I am not writing this to shame you, but to warn you as my dear children. … For this reason, I have sent to you Timothy, my son whom I love. … He will remind you of my way of life in Christ Jesus. … For the kingdom of God is not a matter of talk but of power. [But the kingdom of God is not a matter of talk but of power.] And what do you prefer? Shall I come to you with a rod of discipline…?” (1 Cor 4:8, 14, 16-17, 20-21a).

To our embarrassment, we may not be so different from the Corinthians.

And it is more than this: a bit embarrassing, a bit shameful, that we think this way, and all the while we look around us, and we embrace the legacy of the saints, and we venerate their memories. Do we know anything about them? How many of our mothers and fathers in the faith were beaten, and jailed, and tortured, and starved; and eventually, beheaded, drowned, burned alive, crucified, or run through with a pike because they would not be, because they could not be, respectable members of society? How many of the saints, especially the early Christian martyrs who practiced their faith under the cruel reigns of Decius, Valerian, and Diocletian, [how many of these saints] were asked to “just do what is dutiful”? “Offer only a pinch of incense to the gods and we will spare your lives.” “Only bend your knee for a mere moment in time to the image of the emperor, and you will go free.” “Do the respectable thing and go in peace.”

But the legacy of the saints is not a legacy of worldly wisdom, worldly respect; rather, it is a legacy of foolishness and shame. As the Apostle says elsewhere in his epistle,

“For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. … Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. … It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom in God—that is, our righteousness, holiness, and redemption” (1 Cor 1:18, 26-30, italics mine).

“We are fools for Christ,” says the Apostle, “and we have been made as the scum of the earth, [the filth of the world]. … Therefore, I urge you, imitate me” (1 Cor 4:10, 13, 16). You will not read that—be a fool for Christ; be made as the scum of the earth—in any American men’s or women’s quarterly. “We have been made as the scum of the earth… . Therefore, … imitate me.”

Discipleship to Christ is foolishness to the world. Discipleship to Christ is dangerous to the world. Discipleship to Christ is death to the world. That phrase, “filth of the world,” which the Apostle uses here, in the Greek, perikatharmata tou kosmou, connotes more than mere garbage or refuse. It is a technical term. It is a term applied to men—criminals, the “disposable” ones of society—who would be paraded through the cities and then sacrificed to the gods in times of famine or plague. So here, the Apostle equates himself and those others who labor with him, Ss. Apollos and Timothy and the whole choir of the apostles, as ones willing or destined to die for the flock of Christ. They, our fathers in the faith, have been made “as the filth of the world” for us.

And we have the audacity to idolize the “gold” of a fallen, and failing, and perishing world: musicians, celebrities, athletes, politicians, news media personalities. “Having the form of godliness, but denying the power thereof, from such turn away!” (2 Tim 3:5). I understand, it is more pleasant to turn towards the images of beautiful and strong, confident and charismatic people. But these are false images. They are false idols. They are the glory of a dying world.

And as the other leader of the Apostles, St. Peter, reminds us in his First Epistle, just last night even, in the readings at Vespers appointed for the Feast of the Apostle Andrew: we are not called to be “respectable,” that is, in the eyes of the world. We are not called in any way to meet the standards which the world sets for us, to be “wise” in the ways of the world, to be “presentable” to the world. Rather, St. Peter says, recalling the words of the Law,

“Therefore, with minds that are alert and fully sober, set your hope on the grace to be brought to you when Jesus Christ is revealed at his coming. And as obedient children, do not conform to the evil desires you had when you lived in ignorance. But just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do; for it is written: ‘Be holy, because I am holy’ (1 Pet 1:13-16, cf. Lev 19:2).

Brethren, our God and Savior does not call us to be great in the eyes of the world. What a relief! He does not call us to climb the world’s mountains. He does not ask us to aspire to the greatness of worldly reputation, greatness of worldly esteem, greatness of worldly wealth, or greatness of worldly accomplishment. He asks us to do and to become something much simpler, and simultaneously, much more difficult. He asks us to become holy—to become foolish, and poor in spirit, and peaceable, and charitable, and self-sacrificial: to become the servant of all, to become the scum of the earth, and… to become holy.

“He was despised and rejected by mankind,
    a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
    he was despised, and we held him in low esteem” (Isa 53:3).

Come, let us return to the Lord: for He has torn, that He may heal us; He has stricken, and He will bind us up. After two days He will revive us; on the third day He will raise us up, that we may live before Him (Hos 6:1-2, italics mine).

Christ was despised and rejected by the world. We are despised and rejected by the world. Christ is risen from the dead and ascended to the right hand of God the Father in glory. We have the sure promise that Christ will raise us from the dead and glorify us with himself. (cf. Jn 13:32, 1 Jn 3:2). Walk in this hope, brethren.

Through the prayers of our holy fathers, especially the First-Called of the Apostles, St. Andrew, O Lord Jesus Christ, our God, have mercy on us and save us. Amen.

Glory to Jesus Christ! Glory forever!