What would Paul the Apostle say about this?
“So, what I am trying to help you understand is that there is no longer Jew or Greek, no slave or free, no male and female. For all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”
All who were gathered in the upstairs room had been quiet when Paul was speaking, but the silence became brittle and tense at the hearing of those words. A young man sitting against the back wall raised his hand, disturbing his brother, who was asleep and leaning against him. He whispered into his brother’s ear as he rose.
“Go sit on the window sill if you can’t stay awake. Get some air.” The young man rose to his feet as his brother grumbled and made his way to the open window.
“Paul, I don’t understand what that means.”
“And you are . . .”?
“My name’s Xander. Anyway, you say that we are one, but when I look around, even just here in this room, I see all kinds of different people. My friend Simon is Jewish, and I’m Greek. I’m also male, and my girlfriend, Junia, is female.” The young woman seated on the floor next to him looked up and smiled.
The young man continued. “Jason over there is a slave—it’s okay, Jase. Everyone knows, and we all love you.” Several in the crowd chuckled and nodded their heads. “And his owner, who isn’t here tonight, is a Christian too, but let’s face it, Paul, he’s the owner and Jason’s the slave. How does Christ Jesus make all that just go away?” He sat down. His girlfriend slipped her hand into his and leaned her head on his shoulder.
A man standing by the door at Paul’s right scratched his beard. “Is it like each of us is a different kind of ore, but Christ Jesus is the smelter who turns us into one new thing?”
Paul looked up at the ceiling and thought for several seconds. “Well, I might put it a different way. When the ores are removed from the smelting pot, there is indeed just one thing, yes? No matter how you look at it, you can’t see the various ores any longer that were combined to make what is new. Maybe this metaphor works better: Imagine we have all the components for making a fine stew.”
Young Simon looked at his father. “I wish he didn’t say ‘stew.’ I’m starving, Dad. When are we going to eat? It’s almost midnight.”
His father frowned. “Pay attention, Simon. Paul’s leaving tomorrow. We may not see him again. You can eat when we get home.”
Paul cleared his throat. “We have potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, onions, herbs and spices, even a bit of meat.”
“But not the kind that’s been sacrificed to idols, right?” The old man sitting in the middle of the room scowled at Paul.
“Different topic, Jonas. Stay with me here.” Paul spread his arms out in front of him as he imagined a table where all the ingredients lay. “Each of these things is unique in itself. A carrot is a carrot, an onion is an onion, and so on. But when we put them in a pot and let them simmer in broth, over time, something changes. Each ingredient is still observable and unique, but having simmered in a common broth, they have joined together to be a new thing, and the flavor of each one has influenced the whole without eliminating each ingredient’s distinctiveness.”
The apostle scanned the room and took note of a number of puzzled faces. “Look, let’s go back to what my young friend was saying. Sure, when you look around this room you see all the diversity and distinctiveness that is real and true. But you who are Jews, before you came to faith in Jesus, would you have counted any gentiles as your friends? And would a slave ever consider calling the owner ‘brother,’ except out of the love that God’s Spirit has put into our hearts? You see, ‘in Christ Jesus’ means something in real life, friends. It means that we don’t look at other people strictly from a human viewpoint any longer. We now see people as ones made in the image of God and beloved by him.”
The young woman sitting with Xander at the back of the room spoke softly. “But I still wish that God would break all the walls that keep us apart.”
“What do you mean?”
She stood and looked around tentatively. “I’m Junia, Mr. Paul. Well, there’s a big difference between the status of a man and the status of a woman. And even though Mr. Aristarchus—that’s Jason’s owner—is a kind man, he still has all the rights and Jason has none, at least not until Jason's debt is paid. Even when we’re together like this, those differences still exist.”
Paul smiled. “You have spoken well, my friend. Yes, all that you’ve said is true. But being one ‘in Christ Jesus’ isn’t magic. All of the things you described don’t just disappear as if God has erased them. But there is something very unique that happens ‘in Christ Jesus’ that reframes all of those statuses and relationships.”
He looked over at the young slave. “Let me use Jason’s situation as an example. What if his owner was not a brother in Christ? And what if Jason ran away but was caught and sent back? What would happen to him?”
Jason raised his hand. “I know, because it happened to my father. When he was captured and returned to his owner, he was whipped, tortured, and then branded. He only lived a few days after that. I was sold to cover my father’s debt. Thanks be to God that Mr. Aristarchus bought me.”
Paul shook his head and sighed. “I’m very sorry about your father, Jason. But you have spoken well.”
Jason wiped tears from his eyes. “Paul, what if I ran away from Mr. Aristarchus (not that I would), and came to you for help? How would being ‘in Christ Jesus’ make a difference?” He sat down. Some sitting near him patted him on the shoulders.
Paul looked around the room at the expectant faces. “This is a very important question, Jason. In that scenario, if you were to be captured by slave-hunters, they would take you back just to receive their reward. They would not care what happened to you. But because we are all ‘in Christ Jesus’ I would appeal to Mr. Aristarchus to see the situation, not as a slave and owner relationship, but as one that involves children of the living God, ones who stand on level ground at the foot of Jesus’ cross, a cross where there is room for all hands to be laid. I would counsel forgiveness and reconciliation, because . . .” He looked at the young woman who had spoken earlier. “Because, Junia, that is how God removes the walls of status and privilege and ethnicity that separate us in the world. He calls us into the reconciling work that he is doing in the world.”
Jason spoke again. “It’s amazing to think that somehow, in Christ Jesus, that my life is important. In this world, I have no rights at all, even though I am blessed to be with Mr. Aristarchus. But sitting here tonight with all of you—all of you who call me ‘brother’—I feel like my life is just as important as anyone else’s.”
Paul smiled again. “Yes, but let’s go back to the distinctiveness that remains even though we are one. Imagine once again that Mr. Aristarchus is not your owner, and we all learn that you are being mistreated and beaten by your master. We wouldn’t turn away because we’re all the same and we’re all important. We would start by recognizing that in the image of God that we share and in the love that God has poured out by his Spirit, that we all have value. But your suffering would bring all of our attention to you. It would be as if we have come together as one actual body—even the body of Christ!” He turned to a man sitting not too far from him, scribbling on a piece of scroll. “Tertius, make a note of that, would you?”
Tertius looked up from his work. “Which part?”
“The ‘body of Christ’ part. I want to remember that.” He turned back to the people in front of him. “If one part of that body were injured, the rest of the body would turn its attention to that part, and marshall all of its energy in order to bring about healing. The rest of the body wouldn’t say that it didn’t mean anything because all body parts have value, right?”
Heads nodded and people began to talk among themselves. The door opened and a woman stepped into the room.
“It’s late, and you are all welcome to stay here with our brother Paul as long as you like. But there’s no reason to die of hunger in the process. Take a break and come share food together. My daughters and I have it all prepared. Even some stew!”
“Thank you, Susanna, my dear sister.” Paul raised his hands in the air. “Come back after you’ve had your fill. I have more to say to you!”
The people made their way into the next room. Xander stood and helped Junia to her feet. “Paul never seems to run out of words. We’ll probably be here until dawn.” He surveyed the room, looking for his brother. His eyes fell on the empty window sill.
“Where’s Eutychus?”
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