“For I do not want to see you now just in passing. I hope to spend some time with you . . . ” 1 Cor. 16:7
For a man of such high intelligence and accomplishment, it is remarkable how personal Paul was. For instance, in his great theological letter to the Romans, in the last chapter he mentions by name 40 different people or groups of people.
Now, to be clear: it is not at all clear that Paul was what we would call a “people person.” So take heart, autists and introverts: this is not a personality trait we’re talking about. Paul is simply walking in the steps of his Lord, in his own way.
He does this intentionally. His friendships are long-term. After all, after the resurrection comes eternity.
But these people were not projects to the great Paul. Paul needs them and their help just as they need Paul (v. 6). There is a deep mutuality between the great Paul and other ordinary Christians. God designed it that way.
Me Too!
It was one of those Spirit-created moments when you have no idea what’s going to come out of your own mouth, let alone the other person’s. I had been counseling an older woman who had never married and had experienced painful surgery after surgery since childhood. She was a prototype cat lady and understandably curled in on herself.
In the hallway after one session, the words just came out: “You know, I need YOU to pray for ME, too!” I could see in her face that that thought had never crossed her mind. Until that point, our relationship was only like a project. It was professional. But at that moment, it finally became Christian. And she changed: she curved out of herself and became an ardent prayer warrior for my family.
So Paul is intentionally personal and mutual, and he is decidedly unhurried, v. 7. He is not American; he is not one to reach for the quick fix or the trite platitude or the 27-minute sit-com ending. He is there for the duration, because he is there to heal the deep wounds. He is after strongholds to be demolished, not massaged and talked over.
This is because Paul knows that the Christian life is not a matter of talk but of power. And the power is often passed by emulation. Imitate me, as I imitate Christ, he told the Philippians. Which takes time, and exposure, because it requires watching people, when everything is tight and happy, and when they’re getting squeezed.
You Mean . . . Last Week?!
Gabe was single at the time and hung out a lot in our home. Our kids loved him, and he got a taste of what a normal family was like, having grown up in a broken home. One evening one the kids was doing squirrelly, something that kids do, and I lost my temper. Then I went back and confessed that anger as sin to my child and asked for forgiveness, which was sweetly and kindly granted. I was embarrassed for myself, but we went on with our evening.
About a week later, Gabe expressed how much he appreciated being in our home. I thought about it, and said, “You mean, the other night?! You appreciated THAT?! Me failing?!”
“Yes,” he said. “I’ve never seen anyone in a family confess their sin and ask for forgiveness before. Of course - that’s the gospel.” And, indeed, he’s right. God doesn’t need perfect examples. He needs people who know the way to the cross, and who are willing to live personally, intentionally, mutually and unhurriedly with others. By His Spirit, He’ll do the rest.