Resisting Apollos v. Paul

Six quick thoughts on how divisions in a parish, diocese, or religious community affect evangelization and discipleship, and how we can respond with pragmatic holiness.

A few quick PSAs and then our topic:

• Reminder if you are seeing this the day it came out, in the US today is the Day of Prayer for the Legal Protection of Unborn Children.

• If you would like to post your new year’s prayer requests here, that thread is still open. I am actively praying for the intentions that have been posted so far, and I know that others are as well. Please share your needs so your internet friends can serve you.

• Info on my upcoming evangelization talk is here.

With that out of the way . . .

Today I want to comment on one small aspect of yesterday’s second reading, which has important implications for evangelization:

I urge you, brothers and sisters, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree in what you say, and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and in the same purpose.

For it has been reported to me about you, my brothers and sisters, by Chloe’s people, that there are rivalries among you. I mean that each of you is saying, “I belong to Paul,” or “I belong to Apollos,” or “I belong to Cephas,” or “I belong to Christ.”

Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul?

For Christ did not send me to baptize but to preach the gospel, and not with the wisdom of human eloquence, so that the cross of Christ might not be emptied of its meaning.

I don’t think it’s a newsflash to anyone here that divisions like this are a perennial plague on the Church. Even if you completely avoid the online Catholic food fight, your home parish no doubt has its little cliques and controversies, and might even be embroiled in some more serious conflicts.

These stem from the dual realities of human sin (bad) and the quest for truth and goodness and love (good).

I think it is patently obvious, however, that internal bickering can hamper evangelization and distort discipleship. So what do we do?

A few thoughts:

#1. I don’t think pretending everything is AOK and we’re all One Big Happy Family is the right solution.

We should acknowledge and reckon with the sins that infest our local parish and the Church at large. Ignoring, covering-up, and enabling fool nobody and protect nothing but evil.

#2. We can lovingly and mercifully correct the less-serious sins of those in our parish.

It’s okay to admit, if the topic should arise and there’s a valid reason to discuss the matter, “Father is the kindest, most compassionate man you’ll ever meet, but yes, he sometimes drinks a little too much and then starts making outlandish promises to the Knights. No wine tables at parish events.” Or, “Sister is a brilliant administrator who has rescued this parish from bankruptcy, but sometimes the hard decisions she has to make err on the ruthless side, and though she truly wants what is best for everyone, she’s not exactly gentle in how she announces it all.”

I don’t mean you have to go around proclaiming these things. But where do you think that Apollos-Paul-Cephas divide came from? Those personal loyalties stem from fixating on the virtues of one leader, ignoring his or her sins, and demonizing other leaders whose weaknesses (or strengths) are especially aggravating.

We can acknowledge that we like someone just because we like them, no better reason than that their personality happens to be appealing. We can also acknowledge that our fellow Christians are a mixed bag of sins and virtues, and that we’re all works in progress. Our mission is to help our fellows cultivate their virtues, and to do what we can (which might be quite limited) to make it more difficult for those sins to become or remain entrenched.

Denial, in contrast, does one of two things:

• It leads astray those who are looking for moral leadership. We begin justifying and even praising the sins of those we have begun to idolize.

• It alienates those who can clearly see our idols for the mere sinners that they are.

When we praise the genuine virtues of our fellows without denying the harm of any sins that should come to light, we provide the best models of the quest for Christian holiness, which is a lifelong struggle.

#3. We can accept that serious sins have serious ramifications.

Sometimes, in the misguided (but usually sincere) effort to avoid division and gossip, what we want is to pretend nothing happened, or that a community can move on from serious harm without any real change, as if there are not those still injured and suffering from the harm that took place.

This isn’t reality. Serious sins cause serious harm. That harm doesn’t just wisp away on the breeze the moment the offender has been removed from office.

And once again, recognizing the injury and actively working towards healing is both the best model for disciples and the best way to re-earn trust among those who are (rightly) skeptical of whether the Church is a good place to be.

#4. We can accept that denial of sin leads to unavoidable divisions.

We want to get along. We want harmony and peace within our communities. But if there is a faction in your parish who refuses to acknowledge a serious past or present harm, there will be an unavoidable division.

We can be forgiving, joyful, merciful, and full of hope . . . but we can’t be liars. We can’t say something is good when it is evil, we can’t say nothing happened when it did happen, and we can’t say no-harm-no-foul when there was indeed harm.

So there may be moments when, with sadness and a profound desire for future reconciliation, we have to reluctantly accept that there exists a division for now, one we fervently pray that the Lord in His mercy will heal.

#5. We can have perspective about the little things.

And that leads to one of the glorious side benefits of reading terrible headlines: Not every little fault and foible in your parish or diocese or religious community is that bad.

Our desire to worship the Lord, to evangelize, to serve our community . . . all of these can lead to a thirst for perfection that makes comparatively minor lapses seem much larger than they are. And of course my Major Issue is your Not A Big Deal, and vice-versa.

Thus with fear, trembling, and our best effort at not taking ourselves quite so seriously, we can try asking: Just how bad is it really?

Often enough, it isn’t that bad. Maybe it’s not ideal. Maybe we would have better success at evangelization and discipleship if we made some changes, but smaller-deal problems are usually not total game-enders. Usually when we examine the issue, we can admit: There are other factors that are hampering our evangelization or discipleship, factors that we can work on, even if we can’t change everything that needs to be changed.

#6. We can have hope.

Sometimes when my evangelical friends talk about being a “Biblical” church, I joke: My goodness have you read the Bible? The last thing I want to do is belong to one of those churches that St. Paul was writing to. These people had some major problems in their communities!

And yet: These were the churches that brought the Gospel to the whole world.

If God can use the Corinthians, He can sure as heck use my little parish too.

Artwork: The Inauguration of the Corinth Canal (1893) by Konstantinos Volanakis, via Wikimedia, public domain.