Saint Paul
Who
will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or
persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written,
‘For
your sake we are being killed all day long;
we are accounted as
sheep to be slaughtered.
No,
in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.’'
Let's
think about Saint Paul. What sort of a picture have
you in mind? Here he is, writing a letter to the Christians in Rome, who like
you have never seen him. How does he come across?
For
a start, what does he look like? Nowadays I have no doubt he'd take a selfie and attach it to his email. Unfortunately, he
couldn't do that at the date when he wrote this letter, some
time between 54 and 59 AD.
As
it happens, however, I got to know St. Paul rather well a few years ago, when I
undertook to do a public reading of all the epistles in their proper
chronological order. I knew him towards the end of his life, when he was in
prison waiting for execution, still scribbling away undaunted. The last time I
saw him, I drew a picture, so you, too, can have a look at the man who founded
the Church.
He
was a small man, quite old – well, he was 60, which was quite old in those days
– very tired, bald, slightly stooped,
plainly in pain. He didn't often complain, but when he did, he did it loud and clear, the way he did everything; and then he'd stop, look
at himself and laugh. If God sent him pain, there must be a reason. And after
all, it was only pain.
He
did laugh. Not all the time, by any means, and usually at himself. Sometimes
he'd turn the humour on others, like the Galatians. ‘You
foolish Galatians!’ He couldn't stand muddled thinking. Most of the time
it made him laugh. And then he would explain,
carefully and patiently. Sometimes, though, he just got mad. Any suggestion of
doubt about the resurrection, from somebody who claimed to follow Christ, he'd
come down on them so hard they nearly melted. 'If Christ did not rise, then we
of all people are most to be pitied!'
Of
course, with hindsight, we can see that Paul got a few things wrong. He thought
that the world was about to come to an end, and that governed a lot of his
practical advice – against marriage, for example. But his theology has for the
most part stood the test of time, which is astonishing when you consider that
he was not merely a Christian theologian, but the very first Christian
theologian.
The
picture in my mind is of this fiery little man, filled with the spirit to the
brim and running over, standing in an endless succession of marketplaces
shouting the truth in his odd provincial accent, or tramping endless dusty
roads, carrying with him the burning beacon of the Faith, always in pain, never
– never for a single moment – doubting or relenting.
Some
people were always faithful to him; some went off and preached their own
version of the Gospel, and Paul would have to write yet another letter to
correct the impression they left behind. He was not easy to live with. By the
end, he was complaining that only Luke was faithful; but by then he had sent
all his other friends off on their own missionary journeys.
Paul
was difficult, prickly, argumentative, convinced of his own ideas, infuriating,
quirky and adorable. But today I want to concentrate on three or four aspects
of his character we could all do well to emulate.
First of all, his commitment. Once he had
set his hand to the plough, he never looked back. There was never any
compromise in him. That experience on the road to Damascus never faded. He had
seen the Lord, the Christ who was crucified and who was alive again. He never
called it a vision, or a dream or a wonderful illusion; he had seen the Lord,
and his job was to preach the Gospel to all nations. Which he
did. He financed his travels by work as an itinerant tentmaker. He must
have been a pretty good tentmaker, because he was able to boast that he was not
a burden on the Church. And then he would tell himself off for boasting. But
his boast was truth. Every ounce of his being, every breath he took, was
directed to the cause with which he was charged.
After commitment, confidence. Whatever else
Paul may have been, he was never backward in coming forward. He could face up
to a crowd yelling for his blood, and then walk calmly through them and away.
He could speak at any moment, come up with a sermon at the drop of a hat; there
was no diffidence, no fear that what he had to say was not what the audience
wanted to hear; most of the time, he knew
it was not what they wanted to hear. That never stopped him. He was God's
ultimate telegram boy. He had a message to deliver, and he was going to deliver
it, literally come Hell or high water. In one of his whimsical moments, he drew
up a catalogue of the things that might have stopped him: 'Three times I was
beaten with rods, once I was pelted with stones, three times I was shipwrecked,
I spent a night and a day in the open sea; on frequent journeys, in danger from
rivers, danger from bandits, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles,
danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false
brothers and sisters; in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night,
hungry and thirsty, often without food, cold and naked.' But he kept going, he
never stopped, he just laughed at his own weakness and went on, because he had
confidence in his mission. Commitment, confidence; we might add courage.
But
the last C is the most important of all, and the one which sets Paul apart from
the rest of us. The last C is Certainty. He could never have written the hymn
that goes
'Just
as I am, though tossed about
With
many a conflict, many a doubt,
Fightings and fears within, without ...'
Paul
had none of that. When he wrote this letter to the Romans, he was in Greece,
and planning to go on to Jerusalem, where he knew people were challenging his
theology and even questioning his apostleship. He would soon tell them about
that. He had met the risen Christ. He might be, as he said, the least of the
apostles, but he had been sent on his mission by Jesus himself, which is what apostleship is about; others may dare to doubt
it, but Paul would soon put them right. Others may doubt, others may believe,
others may feel, but Paul? Paul knew.
And his summary of what he knew is in today's reading. 'I am convinced ...’ – we say a creed
beginning ‘I believe’, but that’s not enough for Paul – I am convinced that neither death, nor life,
nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor
height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate
us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.' As always with this wonderful
man, it all comes down, in the end, to love. All he did, all
he said, all he wrote, all he suffered, he did, said, wrote, suffered for love.
Of
course, he did go on to Jerusalem, where he was arrested and imprisoned for two
years; and then finally under arrest to Rome, where Christian migrants had
brought the Faith before him. Needless to say, he was shipwrecked again on the
way, and calmed passengers and crew by preaching to them. He promised them no
lives would be lost, and because they then stayed calm, no lives were lost.
That's absolutely typical of Paul. Commitment, confidence,
certainty. Or in his own words; Faith, hope,
love.
Finally,
let's skip to the very end of this longest of Paul's letters:
Now
to him who is able to establish you by my gospel and the proclamation of Jesus
Christ, according to the revelation of the mystery hidden for long ages past,
but now revealed and made known by the command of the eternal God, so that all
nations might believe and obey him – to the only wise God be glory forever
through Jesus Christ! Amen.