The Scandal of the Sectarian T-Shirt
Introduction: Whose Jersey Are You Wearing?
We live in an age of brand loyalty. People will define themselves, sometimes with a bizarre level of passion, by the phone in their pocket, the truck they drive, or the coffee they drink. This tribal impulse, this desire to belong to a particular camp, is a fundamental part of our fallen human nature. And when it creeps into the church, it doesn't just stay in the parking lot; it marches right down the center aisle and attempts to set up rival kingdoms in the House of God.
The Corinthian church was a mess of brilliance. They were gifted, charismatic, and zealous, but they were also spiritually immature, arrogant, and deeply carnal. And their carnality was on full display in their factionalism. They had turned their favorite preachers into mascots and were wearing their spiritual jerseys to church. They were dividing the body of Christ along the lines of pastoral personalities. "I'm on Team Paul." "Well, I'm on Team Apollos." "You're both wrong, I'm with the original, Team Peter." And then, the most pious-sounding faction of all, "Ahem. We are on Team Christ," which was just another way of saying, "We're more spiritual than all of you put together."
Paul sees this not as a simple disagreement over style or emphasis. He sees it for what it is: a fundamental assault on the gospel itself. It is a denial of the nature of Christ's body and a blasphemous misdirection of loyalty. It is an attempt to carve up the indivisible Christ. When we elevate any man, any ministry, any theological system to the place that Christ alone deserves, we are not just being divisive; we are being idolatrous. We are emptying the cross of its power by focusing on the messenger instead of the crucified King.
This passage is therefore not a call for a mushy, sentimental unity that papers over all doctrinal differences. It is a sharp, apostolic command to find our unity in the only place it can truly exist: in a shared mind and judgment that is grounded in the person and work of the Lord Jesus Christ. It is a call to take off our sectarian t-shirts and clothe ourselves in Christ alone.
The Text
Now I exhort you, brothers, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you all agree and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be made complete in the same mind and in the same judgment. For I have been informed concerning you, my brothers, by Chloe’s people, that there are quarrels among you. Now I mean this, that each one of you is saying, “I am of Paul,” and “I of Apollos,” and “I of Cephas,” and “I of Christ.” Has Christ been divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul? I thank God that I baptized none of you except Crispus and Gaius, so that no one would say you were baptized in my name. Now I did baptize also the household of Stephanas; beyond that, I do not know whether I baptized any other. For Christ did not send me to baptize, but to proclaim the gospel, not in wisdom of word, so that the cross of Christ will not be made empty.
(1 Corinthians 1:10-17 LSB)
An Appeal in the Highest Name (v. 10-11)
Paul begins with an urgent, pastoral command, grounding his authority not in himself, but in the Lord of the church.
"Now I exhort you, brothers, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you all agree and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be made complete in the same mind and in the same judgment." (1 Corinthians 1:10)
Notice the basis of his appeal. He doesn't say, "Because I'm an apostle," or "Because it would make me happy." He appeals "by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ." This is the highest court of appeal. The unity of the church is not a matter of pragmatic strategy; it is a matter of honoring the name of our King. To be divided is to bring that name into disrepute. He addresses them as "brothers," reminding them of the family relationship they are in the process of shredding.
His command is twofold. Negatively, "that there be no divisions." The Greek word is schismata, from which we get "schism." It means a tear or a rip in a garment. The church is meant to be a seamless robe, and they were tearing it apart. Positively, he commands that they "be made complete." The word here is a craftsman's term for mending something that is broken, like setting a bone or mending a fishing net. They are to be mended together "in the same mind and in the same judgment." This is not a call to eliminate all personality or disagreement. It is a call for a shared worldview, a common set of presuppositions, a unified way of thinking that flows directly from the gospel.
And how did Paul know about this? He had a credible report from "Chloe's people." This wasn't gossip. These were concerned saints who rightly reported a serious problem to apostolic authority. They saw the house was on fire and they called the fire department. This is what love does.
The Folly of Factionalism (v. 12-13)
Paul then names the slogans of their division, revealing the foolishness at the heart of their quarrels.
"Now I mean this, that each one of you is saying, 'I am of Paul,' and 'I of Apollos,' and 'I of Cephas,' and 'I of Christ.' Has Christ been divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul?" (1 Corinthians 1:12-13 LSB)
Here are the four factions. The Paul party were likely the loyalists, the charter members. The Apollos party were the intellectuals, drawn to his eloquent and learned preaching. The Cephas, or Peter, party were perhaps the traditionalists, looking to the authority of the Jerusalem apostles. Each faction took a good man with a particular gift from God and turned him into a banner for their own pride.
But the most dangerous faction was the "I am of Christ" group. They sound so spiritual, but they were the ultimate schismatics. They were using the name of Jesus to create their own exclusive club, a faction of the supposedly non-factional. It was a cloak for their spiritual pride. They were saying, in effect, "While you all follow mere men, we have a direct line to Jesus." This is often the most destructive form of pride in the church.
Paul demolishes this entire mindset with three devastating, rhetorical questions. First, "Has Christ been divided?" The question is an absurdity. The Body of Christ is one. To create divisions in the church is to act as though you could take a sword and hack the physical body of Jesus into pieces. It is a grotesque and violent act against the one Lord. Second, "Was Paul crucified for you?" This question recalibrates everything. Your ultimate allegiance belongs to the one who was sacrificed for you. Who is your redeemer? Who paid for your sins? It wasn't your favorite preacher. It was Christ. To give your primary loyalty to a man is to commit a form of idolatry. Third, "Or were you baptized in the name of Paul?" Baptism is your public enlistment into the army of the Triune God. It is your mark of identification with the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ. To be baptized in Paul's name would be blasphemy. Your baptism declares that you belong to Christ, not to a pastor or a denomination.
The Priority of the Cross (v. 14-17)
Paul concludes by expressing his relief that he personally baptized very few of them, not because baptism is unimportant, but because it prevented his own name from being used as a weapon in their carnal wars.
"For Christ did not send me to baptize, but to proclaim the gospel, not in wisdom of word, so that the cross of Christ will not be made empty." (1 Corinthians 1:17 LSB)
Paul makes a crucial distinction here about his primary, apostolic calling. It was not to administer the sacraments, a task that can be carried out by any ordained elder. His unique mission was to "proclaim the gospel." He was a herald of the King. And the manner of that proclamation was just as important as the message itself. He did not come with "wisdom of word," with the slick, polished rhetoric of the Greek sophists whom the Corinthians so admired.
Why not? Because to do so would be to "make the cross of Christ empty." The power of the gospel is not in the cleverness of the presentation. The power is in the message of the cross itself. The cross is an offense to human pride. It declares that we are so sinful we required the death of God's Son, and that we are so helpless we can do nothing to save ourselves. You cannot make that message palatable with fancy words. To try to dress up the cross in the robes of worldly wisdom is to gut it of its power. The Corinthians were glorying in the wisdom of men, and Paul's response is to tell them that their only proper boast is in the foolishness of a crucified Messiah.
Conclusion: The Great Leveler
The disease of Corinth is a perennial disease in the church. We still create our factions. We rally around our favorite authors, our preferred conferences, our theological systems, and we use them as clubs to beat our brothers over the head. We are tempted to say, "I am of Calvin," or "I am of Wesley," or "I am of Piper," or "I am of Wright." We take good gifts from God and turn them into instruments of division.
The antidote then is the same as the antidote now. The antidote is the cross of Jesus Christ. The cross is the great leveler of all human pride. At the foot of the cross, the ground is level. There are no VIP sections. There are no factions. There is only a multitude of desperate sinners, all saved by the same blood, all recipients of the same scandalous grace. When we are truly humbled by the cross, we cannot simultaneously be puffed up with pride over our preferred teacher.
Who were you crucified for? In whose name were you baptized? These are the questions that must govern our loyalties. Our identity is not in our theological tribe, but in our crucified and risen Lord. We are Christians. We are "of Christ." And this is not the slogan of an arrogant faction, but the simple, glorious, unifying confession of the entire blood-bought Church of the Lord Jesus Christ. Let us therefore live in light of that reality, mended together in one mind, for the glory of the one Name by which we must be saved.