I don't know about you...

but there are times when I feel inadequate.

There are times when I compare myself to other people...

and think how much more capable they are.

At heart, I'm a shy introvert.

My natural inclination would be to spend all my time at my desk...

but I can't do that.

There are times when I wish that I was more outgoing.

And yet, even ensconced at my desk, I often feel inadequate.

I used to be an academic--

constantly reading and writing--

and I was fairly good at it.

But, as I sit in my study now, surrounded by all my books...

there are times when I quietly despair...

about how little I read now at any depth...

and, when I do, I find it a bit of a struggle...

and I'm conscious of how much has slipped from my memory and my grasp.

There are times when I feel inadequate but, in a way, I can't help it.

It's the way that I was brought up.

Unwittingly, it's how I have been conditioned--

subtly the message I learned as a kid was that nothing I did was good enough.

 

In different ways, many of us hear and imbibe those sorts of messages.

Our society...

our culture...

our significant others...

can, often inadvertently, reinforce a sense of inadequacy.

We're constantly bombarded with messages... 

that suggest that our worth or value or importance...

is dependant upon our body image...

or the job that we have...

or the possessions that we accumulate.

And sometimes it's hard to believe otherwise.

 

First-century Corinth was a city of great contrasts.

Overtly, it was a very affluent, thriving metropolis.

Yet the gap between the haves and the have-nots was enormous--

with a very small elite controlling everything.

They dominated the political and legal spheres--

which were structured to protect their interests...

to shore up their power, their possessions, and their privilege--

while the other ninety-five percent of the population struggled to eke out an existence...

barely producing enough to survive.

The average Corinthian was powerless and weak... 

and made to feel inferior.

Everything in their society reminded them constantly who they were...

and what their place was;

they were constantly reminded that the wealthy and well-to-do were in charge--

they made the rules...

they called the shots...

and the rest were expected to follow... 

to submit... 

and simply to do what was expected of them.

And the average person depended upon the wealthy and well-to-do for handouts...

which only added to their sense of inferiority and subservience.

Compounding all of that...

in the first century world, people thought in fixed and rigid stereotypes...

they firmly believed that you could judge a book by its cover--

that the way someone looked reflected their nature or character;

and where they were born...

into what sort of family...

and into what sort of occupation...

determined who they were and how they ought to behave.

That was simply the way that the world was...

and it would have been hard--

indeed, nigh on impossible-- 

to comprehend otherwise.

The Corinthian church really was no different--

it was simply a microcosm of the wider society.

It, too, was comprised of a small group of wealthy and well-to-do...

who were, naturally, the leaders--

who ran the show and called the shots.

Everyone else was simply meant to defer to them...

and to behave as society expected.

In the process, the leaders reinforced the message that everyone else was inferior;

that everyone else had nothing worthwhile to contribute.

 

But, in his letter to them, Paul effectively undermines all of that, when he declares:

"To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good".

Each one of them--

regardless of their social position, their place of origin, or their occupation.

Each one of them--

without qualification or exception--

was the locus of the Spirit's activity.

And each one of them was expected to exercise some form of leadership--

contrary to societal structures and expectations.

Indeed, Paul expects that they will act other than their social position--

or their appearance--

dictated that they should.

He expects that they will act contrary to their culturally-conditioned stereotypes.

Within that world and that culture...

that meant acting as if they weren't themselves...

as if there were another person present...

animating...

energising...

empowering...

and enabling them to do things that no one expected them to do...

things that they didn't even expect of themselves.

And Paul attributes this to the activity of God working within each one of them...

as if God, conceived as Spirit, was indwelling each...

bringing them to life...

a bit like a hand inside a glove-puppet.

 

Of course...

Paul was thinking and speaking within a very different world--

a world that understood people in terms of fixed stereotypes;

a world that didn't understand about biology let alone psychology.

So, clearly, we need to understand it quite differently today...

within a radically different culture...

and with all the benefits of modern science.

It's not that, somehow... 

an indwelling Spirit magically endows us with special abilities...

equipping us to do things we wouldn't otherwise be capable of doing.

Perhaps, rather, when we're open to the God who is present with us, around us, and within us...

then God is able to release in us...

potentialities that we have not imagined...

and to actualise abilities that we have not developed.

And yet, Paul doesn't envisage this energising and enabling...

as primarily intended for each one, personally.

It wasn't simply intended as a means of building up their self-esteem-

like some sort of ancient psychotherapy...

or a self-actualisation process.

Rather, it was meant "for the common good".

God's desire isn't just that we find wholeness and fullness for ourselves...

but, through that, that we are energised to bring wholeness and fullness to others.

 

So, today, as we celebrate Pentecost and our Church Anniversary--

as we reflect upon those ancient stories and understandings of God's indwelling presence...

as well as the history of this community of faith--

we're invited to recall that each one of us is the locus of God's transforming activity;

each one of us is able to do more than we can imagine or envision...

to build up others...

to strengthen the community of God's people...

to enable the life-giving love of God to be seen and known.

Often, it's simply a matter of being open...

and letting the Spirit of God--

working in and through us--

do the rest.