Text: 1 Corinthians 3:1-9

Title: Solid food

When a person has only begun in the Christian faith, it is completely fair, and essentially wise, to treat him as an infant in Christ. Just as a pastor doesn’t expect a newly baptized baby to begin memorizing the catechism, neither does a pastor expect adults, who are new to the Christian faith, to be able to digest every hard teaching in the Word of God.

This is understood, but Paul isn’t talking about this. Paul is quite miffed with the congregation in Corinth. We heard it, two Sundays ago, when Paul was riding them over the sides that many of them were taking—this group claiming to be followers of Paul, and this group contending for Peter, and this bunch lining up behind Apollos. Paul nailed them for the silliness of their stances, that it wasn’t Apollos, or Peter, or he who had died for them. They were one in Christ, and they needed to behave as one in Christ.

Nowadays, we see the same thing. Where churches have more than one pastor, folks will line up behind one or rally to another. Or, they will retain loyalty to a former pastor, rejecting the next one, constantly harping, "Pastor Bahr would have never done it that way."

Where we are, today, in First Corinthians chapter three, has Paul observing how he had to feed milk to these Christians, rather than solid food, because they were so worldly and untrained in the Word of God. Paul is setting his table that they are not ready for what he will now write to them, but they are going to get it, anyway, because they are a mess.

When I think of you, the congregation which I have been blessed to serve for just short of ten years, I recognize you—as I’ve said plenty of times—as a typical congregation. In any given worship service, we have those who know the Word of God quite well, and those who are so-so on it, and those who are not. We have every mix of ages. We have those who have been Lutherans all their lives, and those who are newer to us. Fair enough.

We were talking about this in our monthly pastors’ meeting, last Tuesday. Pastor Leo Thoms—you might just know him—commented that he makes his Wednesday Lenten sermons deeper in theology because the folks who attend on Wednesdays are more serious about their Christian faith. We all agreed with Pastor Thoms, but I wondered what that says about us, because we all know how lousy Wednesday attendance has gotten to be.

At this, my hand shot into the air. Of course, I was sitting there, on Tuesday, with the weight of Wednesday’s funeral in Sandusky on my mind. At my turn to speak, I said that if we only preach trivial things to our members, then they will only be equipped to handle trivial things.

Last Sunday, I ditched the sermon that I had written because of the Saturday evening phone call that the Sandusky pastor’s son had died, that day, at his own hand, and that I now had the privilege of being their pastor through this tragedy. On Tuesday, I told my brother pastors what I preached to you, last Sunday. One of the pastors said that, when he had done the same, a few years ago, he was harpooned for it—that members gave him a hard time that such talk about suicide had no place in church, that it’s too hard for people to handle.

Using Paul’s analogy, if Christians are only fed milk, they will only be able to digest milk. If Christians remain worldly, then Christians will never become spiritual in the ways of the Word of God. The solid food of God’s Word might give you indigestion for a time, but the more you eat it, the better you will handle it, and then the more you will desire it, for you will taste and see that the Lord is good.

Folks, as we have been together for ten years, think about the issues that we have faced—and those which we have been forced to face. Well, I suppose we didn’t have to face them. We could have pretended that everything was fine and dandy. I could have acted like life was running smoothly. I could have confined my sermons to fun Bible stories, nifty miracles, and kept everyone in his comfort zone. But, if I had, where would we be as a congregation? Where would you be as Christians? Would you still be nursing on a baby bottle?

We were spooned solid food in today’s Gospel lesson, where we heard the Lord Jesus explain some of the commandments in ways that folks had never considered them. And, He would be harassed for it, because Jesus was feeding whole grain wheat bread when the people were used to eating cream of wheat.

All of you can handle the commandment, "You shall not murder," when you think it only means to physically end the life of another human in an unjust manner. For almost every one of you, for your entire lives, you can say, "One commandment down, bring on the other nine," because you have not, nor are you going to murder anyone.

But, the Lord Jesus said, "Everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council, and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ will be liable to the hell of fire." Is there anyone in this church who has been unjustly angry with his fellow Christian? Any of you ever insult another? How about calling someone a fool? Anyone ever done that, or any of these things, because you were not willing to talk calmly with someone, or hear him out, or help him out, but simply dismissed him as the idiot that he so obviously was?

Well, guess what? You’re all a bunch of murderers, and so am I. Digest that.

And, digest what Jesus says about divorce and adultery, about swearing falsely, and, in next Sunday’s Gospel lesson, about an eye for an eye versus turning the other cheek, and then what just might be the biggest of them all, loving your enemy.

How are you doing with that one, eh—loving your enemy? Do you pray for those whose guts you can’t stand, or do you wish them evil? Do you work to work out your differences, or do you take every opportunity to stoke the fires of dispute? Do you give a hoot about what your Savior says is good and right, or are you wiser than He? Are you offended that, once again, your pastor has put you on the spot, that you’re fidgeting in your seat, that your cheeks have reddened from the recognition of your guilt?

If we only talk about trivial things, you will only be equipped to deal with trivial things, and if we only say that murder is unjustly physically killing a person, and don’t proclaim the truth that murder also lives in the hearts of those who retain unjust anger and hatred and grudges, then your repentance will be trivial. You can’t repent that of which you are not aware. If we are going to form Christians in this congregation, who know the depth and the riches of the glory of God in Jesus Christ, then you Christians need to know the depth and the poverty of your sinful nature.

The solid food of the Word of God is the proclamation of the mess that you make of His commandments, but it’s not all hard to eat. Now comes the dessert, the good news of Jesus Christ, that Jesus ate your sins as He walked to the cross. He digested your sins to death, in His crucifixion. He bathed you in the washing of rebirth and renewal, joining you to His death, so that your sins are constantly digested throughout your life. He joined you to His resurrection so that you have His eternal life as your own, and He feeds you on the manna of heaven, His living body and blood, so that you are nourished with real food and drink.

The entire Word of God is the hardest food to eat, but it is the best menu. When the Lord Jesus asked the disciples if they couldn’t stand His talk that one has to eat Jesus’ flesh and drink Jesus’ blood in order to have eternal life, the Spirit moved Peter to reply: "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life." Those words are the food of your eternal lives, for those words are your Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.