It’s been quite a while now…

since I have had the privilege of performing a wedding ceremony for a couple.

But, whenever I’m approached by a couple to do so, I insist…

before I do… 

that they complete a course in “Pre-Marriage Education”.

The particular one that I offer involves each of them completing a questionnaire––

which has about two hundred questions.

In the past, they would have to colour in little circles with a 2B pencil…

but now it’s done entirely online.

A computer then analyses their answers and compares them…

and…

put simply…

if there’s a significant discrepancy in their responses…

it flags it for discussion.

In the feedback materials that I get to download…

their answers come sorted into various categories such as Marriage Expectations… 

Conflict Resolution… 

Communication…

Relationship Roles…

Parenting Expectations…

Sexual Expectations…

Financial Management…

and so on.

It’s a really useful tool that allows us to have conversations about where they are…

right now…

in their relationship…

and where they might be headed.

And, in having those conversations with couples over the years…

I have often alerted them to the fact that…

statistically…

most marriages that break down early-on do so because of unresolved conflicts over finances…

sex…

or parenting issues.

But I have also warned them that…

for those who survive that period and all of those struggles…

there’s another “spike” in the marriage break-down statistics.

And that occurs when the couple are middle-aged––

when their children have grown up…

and they have left home.

Having spent all of their time and energy on their career or careers…

paying off the house…

and raising the kids…

they haven’t put any effort into their own relationship for a couple of decades.

And, suddenly, it’s just the two of them again…

and they realise that they have, effectively, become strangers.

There’s no longer an emotional connection keeping them together anymore.

Relationships only survive if we work at them.

But… 

if we assume that a commitment made once, a long time ago…

is all that’s required;

if we simply presume that a shared history will hold us together;

if we allow other things or other people to intrude on it;

then the relationship is destined for trouble.

 

In our reading this morning…

Paul offers a fairly stern warning to the Corinthians…

moulded around the story of the Israelites in the wilderness.

He begins with a mention of the Israelites passing through the Red Sea…

and being guided by God through the wilderness by means of a cloud.

He compares the baptism that the Corinthians have received to that…

as an example of a formative spiritual event;

one that––

in a sense––

constituted or shaped their relationship with God.

And, then, he goes on to explain how––

despite this promising beginning––

the people of Israel went astray in the wilderness.

And he does that by means of four parallel injunctions––

although we lose some of that parallelism in most English translations…

“Do not become idolaters, as some of them did”.

“Do not commit sexual immorality, as some of them did”.

“Do not test Christ, as some of them did”.

“Do not complain, as some of them did”.

Here, at this point, Paul is deliberately drawing on the story of the Golden Calf from the Book of Exodus.

And, while Paul leaves bits of it out––

and massages the story somewhat––

in order to make his point…

his point is, nonetheless, valid and certainly very clear.

The people of Israel in the wilderness––

whom God had brought out of Egypt…

and with whom God had entered into a relationship––

were unfaithful.

In complaining and not trusting in God…

and in worshipping an idol––

and engaging in sexual immorality as part of that––

they had broken their commitment to God.

And their prior history…

and the intense spiritual experience that they had gone through…

didn’t mean anything, in the end.

Because a relationship isn’t based on a single shared experience from the past.

 

And Paul is…

similarly…

using this story to warn the Corinthians not to do likewise.

And… 

for some of the Corinthian Christians…

that’s a real issue.

In order for the wealthy and well-to-do members to maintain their place in society… 

they had to go to dinner parties with their peers––

and some of those took place in temples…

or served meat that had previously been sacrificed to idols;

they also had to attend official rites and civic ceremonies in temples.

And while they came up with interesting justifications for doing so…

some of the other church members were upset about it.

And Paul, here, effectively asks these Christians:

how can they still do all of that without being unfaithful to God––

or to their commitment to Jesus Christ?

Having been baptised is no magical guarantee.

Having partaken of Holy Communion is no magical guarantee.

Faith is a relationship.

If we presume upon it…

if we don’t work at it…

if we wilfully do things that harm it…

then it’s not going to survive.

That, really, is Paul’s point here.

 

Now…

of course, we live in a very different world to the ancient Israelites…

and to the first-century Corinthians.

We don’t live in a world with strange temples and 

idols everywhere that we turn;

and I can’t think of any modern religious rites––

or even quasi-civic-religious rites––

that involve, in effect, orgies.

Certainly not literally!

And yet…

figuratively speaking…

are we really that different?

 

So often, do we not presume upon our relationship with God as well?

 

Within a tradition that has…

so often…

prioritised “faith” as “belief”…

have we not been encouraged to see “salvation” as dependent upon “belief”––

often a momentary decision or commitment––

but one that shapes our eternal destiny?

Have we not been encouraged to understand “faith” as “belief”––

but not as a relationship that needs to be worked at, constantly?

And, as a result…

have we not been encouraged to divorce “belief” from “action”––

because, after all, we’re “recipients of grace”…

and “we’re justified by faith, not by works”––

so that our interactions with others…

and our personal ethics…

and our political engagement…

and our whole way of being in community…

is not fundamentally shaped by a living commitment to…

and a relationship with… 

God––

and emulating the example of Jesus Christ?

We may not be tempted to make and fall down before statues of golden calves…

but are there not other things that we have been tempted to put in God’s place––

things that have shaped our priorities and our ethics, and consumed our lives?

 

Deep in the season of Lent––

and as we prepare for the whole Easter drama––

is this not an apt time to take stock of our relationship with God––

both individually and collectively––

and ponder…

from our side…

how have we been faithful?

And what might we do differently?