Corinth. I read the word, I think of the church. The divided church. The quarreling church. The adultery in the pew church. The suing one another church. The church of a dozen questions — about marriage, about food sacrificed to idols, about spiritual gifts. The church that messed up the Lord’s supper. The church that eventually turned on Paul. Oh, I know about that church.

But then I keep reading and I’m gently rebuked. Not because I’ve misunderstood what the letters to the Corinthians were dealing with, but because I’ve misidentified the people to whom the letters were written. People, who Jesus said, are “My people.”

After this Paul left Athens and went to Corinth. . . . And many of the Corinthians hearing Paul believed and were baptized. And the Lord said to Paul one night in a vision, “Do not be afraid, but go on speaking and do not be silent, for I am with you, and no one will attack you to harm you, for I have many in this city who are My people.” And he stayed a year and six months, teaching the word of God among them.

(Acts 18:1, 8b-11 ESV)

My people . . . That’s what pops this morning.

While I might tend towards a bit of smugness as I think about that church, it’s because I forget that Jesus also knew all about that church — even before they were a church. And still, He says to Paul, “Keep preaching. Keep teaching. Keep adding to the church’s number. ‘Cause there are a lot of folks in this town who are going to believe the gospel. Many in this city who are My people.”

Think about it. If New Testament believers had had their acts together, we wouldn’t have a New Testament beyond Acts. If the early church was a healthy, functioning church, no reason to write letters to correct the church. So, when we talk about wanting to be like the first century church . . . ta da!! . . . we are! Yet, in all our mixed-up messiness, in all our frustrating failures, in all our confused quirkiness, hear Jesus say, “These are the many who are My people.“

My people . . . That’s the church — the whole church. Not just “the best” of the church. Not just those who have their theological i’s and doctrinal t’s crossed. Not just those who have figured out “community” and “being on mission.” Not just those who don’t need to read Paul’s letters because they don’t have the issues addressed by Paul’s letters.

No, My people is we people. Those of us who don’t have our acts (pun intended) quite together. Those of us who are still figuring out the mysteries of the ways of God. Those of us who are still fracturing the unity of the Spirit of God. Those of us who are still messing up when it comes to worshiping God. Those of us still limping along as we keep longing to know fully the kingdom of God. Those of us who are still being tripped up by sin against God. Those would be, says Jesus, My people.

I’m reminded that there is nothing that we works-in-progress can do to make God love us more. Nothing we can do that can cause God to love us less. Nothing that makes us any more, or any less His people. For while we were yet sinners — while we were yet the messed-up church to be — God showed the depths of His love for us in that Christ died for us (Rom. 5:8). So that, one day, in some town somewhere, we’d hear the gospel, and respond to the gospel, and be welcomed by the Savior as My people.

Corinth. What a bunch. But Jesus’ bunch. Jesus’ people. And my people too.

Making the wonders of grace all that more wonderful.

Making the glory of God all that more glorious.

Amen?