Abstract
Scholars and practitioners alike celebrate the Apostle Paul as an exemplar of Christian mission. But few emphasize how the ministry and practices of the biblical author developed amid incredible intrareligious conflict and relational wreckage. Embroiled in tension over doctrinal and ritual changes, plagued by vitriolic attacks on his character, and caught up in a web of splintered relationships, Paul offers contemporary people of faith a lesson on unity in diversity for mission in an age of hybridity. Embracing the “terrible and troubled” experience of Paul enables us to bring into relief a transformative hermeneutical strategy for negotiating new forms of religious life and multiplicity in belonging. This article will show how competing cultural and religious codes shaped the Apostle’s symbolic universe, causing violence, tension, conflict, and rejection, before reconciling in an ethic of love in hybridity. After making a case for the reclamation of the troubled textual Pauline experience over an idealized picture of early Christian mission, I will argue for the critical importance of Paul’s Damascus Road experience by narratively resituating it from typological “conversion” story to mystical encounter with the Holy Other that catalyzed a new religious imagination for cultivating a revolutionary egalitarian, inclusive pattern of religious life. Then, I will use Paul’s narrative from Galatians and his treatment of holiness in 1 Corinthians to show how ruptures in the Apostle’s journey led him through fractures and failures into spiritual maturity. By welcoming the gendered, classed, and cultic other into fellowship, Paul also found his quintessential theological insights: the new creation and life in the Spirit. Paul’s response to the invitation of the risen Jesus and his record of the missional life that followed offers missiology a way through monocultural approaches and theological exclusivism into a constructive spirituality that unifies radically different factions into one holy, hybrid body.
Scholars, pastors, and practitioners alike celebrate the Apostle Paul as a theological giant and exemplar of Christian mission. But few emphasize how the ministry, teaching, and practices of the biblical author developed amid incredible intrareligious conflict and relational wreckage. Embroiled in tension over doctrinal and ritual changes, plagued by vitriolic attacks on his character, caught up in a web of splintered relationships, and preoccupied by constant cultural and ethical negotiations, Paul offers contemporary people of faith a lesson on unity in diversity for mission in an age of hybridity. Embracing the “terrible and troubled” experience of Paul enables us to bring into relief a transformative hermeneutical strategy for negotiating new forms of religious life and multiplicity in belonging. This article will show how competing cultural and religious codes shaped the Apostle’s symbolic universe, causing violence, tension, conflict, and rejection, before reconciling in an ethic of love in hybridity. After making a case for the reclamation of the troubled textual Pauline experience over an idealized picture of early Christian mission, I will argue for the critical importance of Paul’s Damascus Road experience by narratively resituating it from typological “conversion” story to mystical encounter with the Holy Other that catalyzed a new religious imagination for cultivating a revolutionary egalitarian, inclusive pattern of religious life. Then, I will use Paul’s narrative from Galatians and his treatment of holiness in 1 Corinthians to show how ruptures in the Apostle’s journey led him through fractures and failures into spiritual maturity. By welcoming the gendered, classed, and cultic other into fellowship, Paul also found his quintessential theological insights: the new creation and life in the Spirit. Paul’s response to the invitation of the Risen Jesus and his record of the missional life that followed offers missiology a way through monocultural approaches and theological exclusiveness into a constructive spirituality that unifies radically different factions into one holy, hybrid body.
The terrible and troubled experience of Paul and the embrace of failure
The lesson that we can take from Paul for mission in an age of hybridity rests fundamentally on reframing Paul’s experience as “terrible and troubled.” Contemporary missional imaginations often idealize the early church movement, setting up a romanticized, untenable picture as the goal of our missional project. Privileging the undisputed Pauline letters as the textual source for the Apostle’s experience and as the context of the development of his unquestionably important theology and ethics for Christian thought enables followers of Jesus to recognize the latent potential of conflict and the spiritual value of failing as catalyst for (rather than threat against) economic, social, and religious transformation. This fundamental reorientation or reemphasis does three things for the argument about the role of tension in establishing new cultural incarnation of faith when setting Paul as missional exemplar.
First, it recognizes rather than shies away from a humanized Paul. Reimagining Paul as he self-presents in his epistles embraces this hero of faith not as eloquent preacher, innovator, and theological genius with the qualifications to boot but as entrepreneurial hermeneut with deep conviction, peculiarities, and difficult traits. It means elevating him not despite but in full view of his struggle, first, to violently enforce normative religious rules and then, to break and theologically redefine them. It means recognizing his desire to preserve the Hebrew story of salvation and its symbolic universe even as he challenges its gatekeepers with new ritual practices and interpretive schema to make it meaningful for a non-Hebrew audience. It means not reading over his passionate but hyperbolic flare, ad hominem attacks, anxiety, overinflated ego, and contradictions. It means celebrating his cultural integration of Gentiles into a Jewish system and persevering the real, raw blowback he suffered for his holy troublemaking. Paul’s missionary journeys in their unfiltered, unromanticized vagaries present a familiar, even an encouraging scriptural analog for prophetic leadership navigating the challenges of hybridity. The infuriating and invigorating strength of Paul’s entrepreneurial personality, his fears and failures, the fragmentation he experienced with James, Peter, Barnabas, and Antioch and then in Galatia and Corinth, show missiologists that the work of integrating and innovating new expressions of faith will include tension. Further, it elucidates the gospel call for establishing new socio-religious lifeforms that eschew the policing practices of parent cultures. Emphasizing the terrible and troubled experience of Paul seeks to frame tension, uncertainty, and innovation as spiritual gifts, not as threats to fidelity, defense for culture wars, or prescriptive codes for fundamentalist or dogmatic interpretation.
Second, emphasizing the Apostle’s difficult journey of leadership enables contemporary missional movements to embrace risk. By making “trouble” normative, this interpretation of Paul as exemplar of hybridity disempowers strategies of control and authoritarianism that seek to mitigate mistakes through conformity and sin-management. As missiologists work to move away from colonial patterns of evangelization and strive to diversify voices that contribute to theological formation, we recognize and repent of the racist and sexist structures of power that have governed Church polity, and we make waves. Further, we make mistakes that have the potential to lead to deeper transformation through greater understanding, authentic repentance, truer humility, and more just practices. But challenging the status quo involves risk. Seeking more complete conversion in ourselves and our societies involves unsettling power. I see this in my role as a professor in both theology and social entrepreneurship, where I teach business and innovation techniques from the leading edge of research in social change. The methods and insights of the strategies vary, but ubiquitously, leading theories and authors in the field champion failure as a key ingredient to the process of transformation.
This leads me to my last reason for reclaiming the terrible and troubled experience of Paul, and it revolves around what Richard Rohr (2011) calls “falling upward.” By demythologizing perfection as the expectation of the holy missional life, this radical reorientation demonstrates how spiritual maturation and new Spirit-led incarnations always involve dying, falling, and changing. This is painful business that can lead to character assassination, painful misunderstanding, community fractures, and heated debates, which we will trace shortly in a brief highlight reel of Paul’s most tense moments in ministry. Rohr’s insights recognize that in formation, humans need to start with stability, assertions about identity that feel secure, and even rules-based teaching. But invitation into life in the Spirit requires movement beyond and sometimes even against these primary forms of spirituality. The inconsistent tone and temper, developing theological nuances, and changing cultural codes of the Apostle offer a paradigm of hybridity that recognizes the integral role of trying, failing, and repenting on the path to spiritual maturity. It also disempowers cheap methods of analysis that equate the “fruit of the Spirit” with adherence to the norm, submission to those in power, and avoidance of rocking the boat. This presentation does not normalize troublemaking in an attempt to relativize ethics or to resist equitable structures of accountability. Rather, the hermeneutical strategies and ethical principles of Paul encourage a moral framework that requires greater responsibility, more complete formation of conscience, and deeper attentiveness to the Spirit accompanied by greater relinquishing of personal rights in favor of the common good.
Conversion reconsidered: Paul’s encounter with the Holy Other as invitation to hybridity
To begin my textual investigation, I posit that the “conversion” trope of previous mission paradigms has often obfuscated the qualitative change and theological consequences of Paul’s revelatory encounter on the Damascus Road. In keeping with the growing body of scholarly literature on the Jewishness of the Apostle, this interpretation insists that Paul did not “convert” from Judaism to some other religion. In other words, he did not exchange his socioreligious community of accountability, renounce his spiritual heritage, or repudiate the symbolic sacred world of his tradition to confess the creed of a new faith. Rather, his personal encounter with Jesus yielded a redefined understanding of his community’s tradition as refracted through the significance of Christ’s death and resurrection. The unexpected appearance of the Holy Other on the Damascus Road altered the terms upon which he established community cohesion, shattering his too-small concept of covenant faithfulness. In the wreckage of his deconstructed religious paradigm, Paul found God’s presence manifesting among Gentiles in their gentileness, not in so much as they adapted to Jewish codes of conduct and prescriptive regulations of holiness governed by his culture. Thus, as Paul made meaning out of his encounter with the Risen Christ, he discovered an invitation to move away from exclusivism into hybridity, which I am defining as a cultural process of ongoing transformations yielded through encounters with difference with the potential for fusions and identity reconstructions that unsettle power structures and patterns of homogeneity. To adequately demonstrate Paul’s falling, failing, and finding of deeper faith, I will organize my textual analysis under two subheadings: Paul before encountering the Risen Christ: A particularist and exclusivist worldview and Paul after encountering the Risen Christ: Paul’s missiology of hybridity. By the end of these two examinations, a hermeneutical strategy will emerge with a robust ethical principle for navigating the controversies engendered by a mission that values unity, celebrates diversity, and cultivates hybridity.
Paul before encountering the Risen Christ: A particularist and exclusivist worldview
The magisterial insight of N.T. Wright (2005) on Paul’s three worlds shows us how the Apostle developed his sense of vocation, ethics, unique communicative style, and theology amid multiplicity. In keeping with Wright, I want to emphasize how the socioreligious and political spheres that shaped the Apostle also presented competing cultural codes, which I do not think very dissimilar from those in our own 21st-century missional and theological terrain. The three worlds of Paul are: (1) Second Temple Judaism; (2) the Roman Empire; and (3) Hellenism.
The context of Paul’s religious training and Pharisaical formation occurred amid Jewish Diaspora in the context of Roman imperialism. As a son of the Tribe of Benjamin, circumcised on the eighth day, Paul boasted of his exemplary Hebrew pedigree. He mentioned his zealousness for tradition and admitted to the accuracy of his infamy as a persecutor of the movement of those calling Jesus Messiah (Phil 3:1–6; Gal 1:13–14). However, he was also Paul of Tarsus, a Greek-speaking urban center in Asia Minor. Thus, Paul’s language, reasoning, philosophical strategies, and rhetorical style evidenced the Stoic schools of thought that influenced his thinking and made him the erudite scholar and persuasive spokesperson that came to lead the non-Hebrew movement of faith. His use of anticipated objections in argumentation, consistent employment of dyads for comparison, regular adoption of Stoic lists of virtues and vices, and presentation of the gospel with an emphasis on inversion, show how he allowed the revelation he received from Christ to take on Hellenistic form in the imperial Roman world.
But he did not draw out his message with repudiation for his ancestral faith. The worldview that shaped his religious framework, the sacred stories, ethical codes, and ritual observances that gave cadence to his life, arose in the time of Second Temple Judaism, or better yet Judaisms. E.P. Sanders (1977, 1992) has shown authoritatively that in antiquity differing groups of Jews interpreted covenant relationship with Yahweh and faithfulness to Torah with competing norms of purity. The Essenes lived ordered, disciplined lives eschewing many common practices such as slavery and cultivating virtues through strict regiments of purity through renunciations, study, and prophecy. Some groups even retreated from imperial society to safeguard their holiness and to observe ritual cleanliness through asceticism, voluntary poverty, daily immersion practices, priestly celibacy, punctilious prayer and eating habits, and scholarship, which likely gave us the Dead Sea Scrolls (Lim, 2021). The Zealots prioritized the covenant promise to the Davidic throne and took up armed resistance to reclaim the divine inheritance to the Promised Land advocating violence against not only Rome but also imperial collaborators from within Judaism (Horsley, 1986). Finally, different sects also existed generally in favorable relationship to imperial power and with varying degrees of authority and influence (Saldarini, 2001). The Pharisees preserved and passed on the Oral Torah and trained in competing rabbinical schools of thought to continue Jewish life beyond Temple cultic worship and especially in Diaspora, whereas the Sadducees utilized their elite economic and social connections not only to administer affairs of the empire but also to maintain and regulate the Temple. Therefore, Paul’s world before the Damascus Road experience existed in a non-monolithic ethic of faithfulness. However, covenantal terms in each sect defined belonging through ethnic exclusivism and cultural particularism (Sanders, 1977, 2009; Dunn, 2008a).
Paul says in Galatians that he had passionately taken up the customs and conventions of his form of Judaism, so much so that he went beyond normative practices to violently defend the particularities of his Pharisaic tradition against those new measures by Jews preaching that the Kingdom of God had come in Jesus and that the resurrection confirmed Jesus’ status as the long-awaited Messiah. In other words, the zealous young Benjaminite saw his school of thought as the protector of Truth and regarded his interpretive community as the cultural plumb line for orthopraxis. He believed that his group exclusively held the key to understanding salvation and rightness with God in heart and in action. Thus, his theological training and religious authority made him and his like-minded allies the gatekeepers of covenant inclusion. They determined who was in and who was out. Their designated behavioral patterns, rites, and cultural markers defined what it looked like to be holy and determined who posed a threat to purity. Further, their spiritual insight and power justified them to neutralize outliers, blasphemers, or threats.
Paul’s pre-Damascus Road spirituality and mission, therefore, came from a place of genuine conviction and wholehearted faithfulness. His spirituality rested on a rigid definition of identity that required cultural homogeneity secured by soteriological narrowness. Removing Paul from these tense religious politics to anachronistically fit his experience into evangelistic categories that move him from unbeliever to believer obfuscates the transformative potential for groups now in positions that determine who fits “in” orthodox Christianity and whose movements meet coded regulations of holiness. We may miss the invitation to hybridity offered in the sacred story of Paul’s encounter with Christ. In meeting the Risen Jesus, he found in the face of his theological opponents a surprising invitation to deeper faith and greater inclusion. Paul immediately began his Spirit-filled reinterpretation of the Hebrew Scriptures, symbols, and rituals which required that he give up his violent dogmatic campaign to convert others to his way of life. He embraced what Rohr calls the spirituality of the second half of life, that is risk-taking openness led by the unwieldy power and mystery of God that leads beyond homogeneity and rules-based teaching to unity in diversity.
Paul after encountering the Risen Christ: Paul’s missiology of hybridity
To fully understand the nuances of how Paul altered his cultural expectations and eschewed exclusionary practices requires an honest assessment of the steps and missteps he took to develop his gospel message. Using the basic plotlines introduced by Wright (2013) in Paul and the Faithfulness of God as a visual map for Paul’s changing convictions toward theological integrity and cultural performances of faithfulness, I will now overlay moments in Paul’s hermeneutical development and spiritual journey to show how Paul moved from cultural defender to theological negotiator and then from inclusivist enforcer back to hybrid reconciler by tracing five major ruptures in his experience. The ruptures will structure the remainder of my argument, and they are: Paul’s encounter with the Holy Other on the Damascus Road, his successful defense of the gospel of uncircumcision at the Jerusalem Council, the conflict over hybrid fellowship around the table during the Antioch Incident, his defense of the gospel of uncircumcision in the Galatian Incident, and finally, his embrace of hybridity during the Corinthian Problem. Figure 1 plots how these various events involved theological and cultural movement for Paul on two axes: particularism–universalism and inclusivism–exclusivism.

Paul’s Shifting Theo-Cultural Positions.
I have already examined the encounter with the Holy Other on the Damascus Road. But it is critical to acknowledge that Paul’s move from preservationist of Pharisaic theology and guardian of covenant purity to champion of the very ones he had persecuted likely rendered him apostate to many of his colleagues, friends, and mentors (Segal, 1990). Embracing his doctrinal enemy meant a complete reformulation of his previous understanding of truth and righteousness. The revelation Paul received meant the annunciation of a new kind of kingdom, one that fulfilled the Davidic promise not by political maneuvering to take back geographical space or securing human lineage to a seat of power elevating one ethnic group above the others in the region. The gospel of the uncircumcised broke open the physical manifestation of God’s presence tied to the Temple, proprietarily monitored, and exclusively accessed by the few, namely the marked male bodies with power and purity born into the right kind of family. Jesus’ resurrection catalyzed a revitalized covenant that included Gentiles, not in the periphery of religious life but in the center of God’s missional plan. This iconoclastic rupture of Temple cultic religion meant that the Divine presence now dwelled in all people baptized into Christ, inhabiting many diverse forms and practices, geographical and cultural spaces. Paul calls this the new creation and seeks to articulate how this egalitarian social order includes covenant with God not only for Jews following Torah but also for Gentiles following Jesus through the Spirit in their own unique cultural lifeforms, even as divergent manifestations support one another through unity in peculiarity. But what does this mean? What does it look like? How did Paul navigate a Spirit-led renewal that included Gentiles as Gentiles, not as Jewish coverts?
This, then, leads us to four additional ruptures and their respective cultural conversions or shifts. Figure 2 shows the chronology of these four additional ruptures. These critical moments in the Apostle’s ministry draw attention to how his journey out of exclusivism and cultural elitism into inclusivism and cultural hybridity involved major moments of falling, failing, and changing. A deeper analysis of the events and doctrinal tensions in each of these pivotal junctures in Paul’s spiritual formation and theological development will show Paul’s code-switching and ethical reformulating as he innovated an egalitarian hermeneutic of faithfulness.

Paul’s Timeline of Ruptures.
The Jerusalem Council
In Galatians, Paul reports that following his Damascus Road epiphany, he began working with the Hellenist movement following Jesus in Syrian Antioch. After many years and in response to another revelation, he and his Antiochene contingent went to Jerusalem to discuss with the leaders of the faith the gospel that their community proclaimed. Paul calls their message “the gospel of the uncircumcision,” by which he meant the good news about Jesus as the awaited Messiah of the Jewish Scriptures through whom all people can come into relationship with God exactly as they are. In doing so, he put on trial his mission and the content of his Damascus Road revelation. He sought validation of his theology alongside of the “gospel of the circumcision,” by which he indicated the good news for Jews who continue with the ritual life and particular symbolic terms of their relationship with God as transformed by Jesus’ messiahship. He and Barnabas brought along Titus, a member of the mixed community in Antioch (Gal 2). Born of a Greek father and a Jewish mother, Titus became the text upon which Paul wrote the good news in praxis. Paul evidences the successful defense of his position in Jerusalem, since Titus, his uncircumcised disciple, was welcomed into fellowship with no requirement for adherence to the ethical and ritual particularities of Judaism. By presenting the fact that Titus did not have to “convert” to Judaism by receiving circumcision to belong to the people of God, Paul proved the outcome of this first major conflict: The pillars of the faith at the center of power in the Jewish world recognized two gospels, which he called the “gospel of the uncircumcision” and the gospel “of the circumcision” (Gal 2:7). This shows that the leadership of the early church debated and discerned that a culturally and ethically hybrid movement could legitimately exist and thrive in self-governed praxis and remain in unity with the Hebrew movement in its specific ritual practices, symbolic life, and behavioral codes.
The Antioch Incident
This is followed immediately in Galatians 2:11–14 by Paul’s narration of the “fall out” after the Antioch contingent returns home. It begins with the Apostle Peter’s visit to the Christians in Antioch. Basking in the brief bliss of their hybrid acceptance of unity in diversity, Paul reports that when Peter arrived, this influential member of the Jerusalem movement, the one he indicated as the apostle of the gospel of circumcision in Galatians 2:7, joined in the practices of the hybrid community in Antioch, that is, he accepted and participated in their egalitarian, inclusive custom of eating the common meal in mixed company: one table with Jews and Gentiles together. Of course, this breaks the Torah purity codes. However, the hybrid movement of Antioch followed Jesus the Jewish teacher who constantly challenged the letter of the law for the spirit of the law and violated rules for the sake of love.
Soon after, a group that Paul calls the “circumcision faction” (v. 12) also arrived in Antioch. They swiftly imposed the commandments of Torah on Peter and other circumcised Jews in Antioch. Peter immediately withdrew from the common table in fear, which led other Jewish members of the hybrid fellowship to follow, including Paul’s co-worker Barnabas. Paul felt outraged, and the text reports that he scolded Peter. The historical evidence seems to indicate that this conflict led to a split between Paul and the Antiochene mission over the perceived betrayal and scandalous reversal of the terms of hybridity, which likely prompted Paul’s westward movement and left him without financial support and with a different team of co-laborers. Paul intensifies his tone at this point in Galatians, turning his narration from a rehearsal of previous events to the conflict facing the recipients of the epistle.
The Galatian Incident
This third rupture is what Eugene Park (2003) calls the “Galatian Incident.” Another group of the “circumcision faction” followed up on Paul’s apostolic work in Galatia seeking to make new believers accept circumcision and other Jewish customs. The biblical text records Paul’s reaction in outbursts and rhetorical flourishes that capture his emotional injury and personal offence at the affront to his gospel in its cultural hybridity. He lashed out with his now infamous rebuke: “You foolish Galatians! Who bewitched you?” (Gal 3:1). “If you let yourselves be circumcised, Christ will be of no benefit to you” (5:2). He went so far as to say, “I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel—not that there is another gospel, but there are some who are confusing you” (1:6–7). Without overstating the point, it seems that in Paul’s anguish and self-defense, he hit back at his opponents in this letter by insinuating that there was no gospel but his gospel of the uncircumcision. Thus, his ego and passion for inclusion bubbled over into a new form of theological exclusivism that elevated his hybrid way over the Jewish gospel in its ethnic and cultural particularities. But he recalibrated in Galatians 5. He returned to the vision of freedom in the Spirit, the ontologically unifying reality of life in Christ. He stated, “For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything; the only thing that counts is faith working through love” (5:6). It is important to reiterate that my interpretation of Galatians does not pit Paul’s Christianity against Judaism. What Paul opposed was a definition of gospel faithfulness governed by a particular ethnic code and theological grammar imposed on Gentile believers as requirement for inclusion in the people of God. He argued in this same letter for the coexistence and flourishing of divergent manifestations of the same revelation. But it got worse before it got better.
The Corinthian Problem of Hybridity
Enter the last rupture considered in this article, which I am calling the “Corinthian Problem of Hybridity.” Conflict and competition between vying factions had stirred up trouble in yet another of Paul’s churches. Cliques following different personalities and gnostic concerns over wisdom teaching, spiritual ascendency, and morality had fractured the Corinthian fellowship. How does Paul manage to teach them to live according to the wisdom of the Spirit without the specific rules of the gospel of circumcision? The letter is peppered with such questions: What is okay to eat if we don’t follow the purity codes of Israel? What about meat sacrificed to idols? Meat from the market of dubious origin? When do we emphasize unity, and when do we kick someone out for immorality? How do we order worship if we do not follow Temple rites? What does it mean that we are the Temple?
As the Corinthian church argued over differing approaches to complicated situations of leadership, worship, holiness, and lifestyle, they turned to their founder for advice. Thus, 1 Corinthians offers a perfect case study for how Paul handled hybridity in practice. The rhetorical query that governs the entire letter appears in Paul’s epistolary introduction: How do communities of non-Hebrew believers live as holy, Spirit-filled members of a fellowship not defined by exclusivity in ethnicity, class, or cult but by unity in difference through Christ? Paul’s hermeneutical strategy led to his articulation of one overarching principle: an ethic of love for mission in an age of multiplicity. He wrote it first at the start of 1 Corinthians 6: “‘All things are lawful for me, but not all things are beneficial.’ ‘All things are lawful for me,’ but I will not be dominated by anything” (1 Cor 6:12).
The very form of his presentation of this universal norm demonstrated Paul’s decisive choice to embrace the cultural particularities of his audience. Pulling from their own canon of aphorisms, Paul related a familiar pagan saying from the Corinthian context to the content of Christ’s revelation. His principle emphasized the unwieldy freedom found following the Spirit rather than the Law or some new code or collection of rules. But he offered his audience an orienting horizon: everything you do in your freedom should be to glorify God. Thus, he concluded in verse 20, “glorify God in your body.”
In classic Pauline form, he used repetition for emphasis. And with each reiteration he added a bit more clarity to elucidate the specifically Christian meaning of his gloss on this local pithy proverb. He stated his principle and then fleshed it out through examples related to the concrete concerns of the community: marriage, virgins, and food. He then explored the stark contrasts between choices oriented toward flesh versus spirit, slavery versus freedom, rights versus responsibility. He demonstrated how these tensive elements manifested in the history of Israel, rooting his theology in its Hebraic lineage (1 Cor 10:1–22). Then, he quoted the saying again as further exegesis of the Jewish story: “‘All things are lawful, but not all things are beneficial.’ ‘All things are lawful,’ but not all things build up. Do not seek your own advantage, but that of the other” (1 Cor 10:23–24). Once more, he related the saying in its Christian reinterpretation to their bodies as the site for how they praise God. He concluded the chapter with “so, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God” (1 Cor 10:31). Then, he launched into another list of concerns: head coverings, worship, the Lord’s supper, spiritual gifts, and finally, the resurrection.
As he reached the denouement of his letter, he reiterated in final form the governing principle of how to live in the Spirit: love, specifically love in a way that builds up the radically different other with whom you are united in Christ. Paul emphasized that believers find unity not by uniformity in manner, language, concept, or even structure. Prophetically orienting his audience back to the horizon of glory, the Apostle wrote that until the faithful take on bodies of glory in the new heaven, each believer joins in the new creation by becoming part of the Body of Christ. “Many members, one body” means fundamentally dissimilar functions, varying degrees of strength and weakness, conflicting convictions and passions, and contrasting forms of expression.
Conclusion
Paul’s embrace of hybridity in response to the conflicts in Corinth meant taking a risk that the Spirit would take up residence in these diverse members with their varied cultural ways and make them holy versions of themselves. His emphasis on holy living, despite the risky business of Spirit-led practice over and against rules-based spirituality, takes center stage in 1 Corinthians. His hybrid hermeneutic does not insinuate any hint of ethical ambivalence or cultural relativism. Instead, Paul methodologically employed the process of code-switching. He sought not to reiterate his own cultural code to train them up or to avoid mistakes, missteps, or misjudgments in their practice of faith. Rather he sought to cultivate their spiritual faculties by rooting them in the foundational narratives and symbols of the Hebrew tradition and then imaginatively connecting them to the contemporary questions of faith in their Corinthian setting. He tied the patriarchs and matriarchs to their story and culture. He recast faithfulness in the light of his audience’s moral dilemmas. He did not reimpose the Law of Judaism onto them. Instead, he related the wisdom of the Hebrew tradition to the values of gnosticism and empowered them with a new interpretive capacity that could navigate the cultural questions of their own debates through the prism of knowledge in Christ and life in the Spirit. He communicated the concepts and metaphors of faith using cultural models particular to Corinthian thought, grammatically integrating important gnostic terms, fleshing out how it might look in practice using Stoic lists of virtues and vices. Sometimes he offered advice or posited a new directive. Certainly, he did this as the community’s founder, offering them the council of a father in the faith and leveraging the role he played in the community with all the authority offered therein. However, he also recognized (even as he resisted) their autonomy to reject his teaching (as they did at the start of 2 Corinthians) or accept it (as they seem to have done by the conclusion of the chronology traced in the sixth letter fragment found in 2 Corinthians). Therefore, the spiritual wisdom and mature faith of Paul’s hybrid, egalitarian community emerged through a similar process of conflict, tension, theological debate, and cultural jockeying.
The ethic that emerges in the Pauline text as an antidote to cultural homogeneity and theological exclusivism is love that builds up with the deepest goodwill and respect for the other. At the end of Paul’s journey through conflict, beyond mistaken overstatements of his own theological position, and over painful relational fractures into authentic community, cultivating love that respects cultural differences and celebrates unity in peculiarity ultimately took missional priority. Love rather than conformity or singularity acted as the determining criterion for Paul as he trained his communities to navigate liberty, rights, boundaries, and responsibilities. Covenant with God and with a diverse family of faith requires conscious, ongoing examination of how terms, practices, and processes consciously build up other parties in the relationship, even when that means trusting the Spirit by accepting troubling differences or by troublemaking. In Paul’s own practice, that meant sometimes bearing with those that injured him, sometimes splitting off to go in a different direction, sometimes giving up freedoms, sometimes holding a theological line, sometimes repenting, and sometimes stirring up conflict. The rich example of Paul’s missional life normalizes the painful processes of accepting others in the Body without requirement for their compliance to one’s own norms even as it unveils the surprising way that God’s presence manifests in unlikely places, positions, and forms. So, how can terrible and troubled mission be transformative for the glory of God? By radically reorienting our notion of holiness away from homogeneity, the ecclesial community of the new creation celebrates difference even as it negotiates Spirit-led life together with the wild, wonderful, unwieldy risk and reward of fellowship by faith in Christ through love.
Footnotes
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
