The Ambition of a Great Harvest (John 15:1-17)

1. The Vine, Its Branches, and Its Fruit

1.1 The True Vine (vv. 1–3)

Jesus says that he is the "true vine", or "the true stock" (the base of the vine), and his very intentional use of this image has two main reasons.

The first is that this is an image used by several Old Testament prophets to speak of Israel, God's chosen people. On the whole, the texts that present Israel as God's vine are rather critical: they are pictures meant to show that God cared for his people and yet the people did not produce fruit that pleased him.

When Jesus says that he is the "true" vine, he is saying that the true Israel will now be those who are attached to him, as branches of the vine. And he is also saying that this vine will produce the right kind of fruit.

The other reason Jesus uses the image of the vine is that it lets him communicate the dynamic between him, us, and God the Father. Jesus says he is the vine; we are the branches. So we really are part of the vine when we are attached to him! That is precisely the difference between the vine and the branches.

A vine without a branch can still grow a new branch to produce fruit. Whereas a branch without the vine… is of no use at all. A branch that is not attached to the vine produces no fruit and serves no purpose. In the same way, a branch that produces no fruit must not be kept on the vine: every branch that bears no fruit is cut off by the gardener.

Here we see the role of the Father: the gardener. The one who cares for the vine, who supplies the vine with what it needs, the one who also removes the branches that bear no fruit. The one who also tends and prunes the branches that do bear fruit. Yes, even the branches that bear fruit must be pruned, tended, so that they bear even more fruit.

1.2 The True Fruit

What fruit are we talking about here? In the Old Testament, we hear of the fruit of righteousness. Obedience to God, obedience to his commandments. The opposite would be injustice, violence, sin. Here, in this text, Jesus also mentions obedience to the commandments, and he sums them up in a single commandment: love. That does not mean he abolishes every kind of commandment or instruction, but he establishes that they all flow from this one: to abide in the love of God and to love our neighbors.

But Jesus does not give a narrow definition of "bearing fruit" here. We can say it is everything done, by his disciples, in full communion with Christ and his work. Everything done in communion with the love of Christ, everything done in communion with the mission of Christ. Love for God and neighbor, respect for the teachings of Jesus, a faithful witness to his gospel, a joy full of gratitude. All of this is the fruit borne by a branch attached to its vine.

1.3 "Abide": The Thread Running Through the Passage

But only by a branch that abides in the vine. That verb, "abide," is the most frequent word in this passage: it appears more than ten times. It is the thread that ties together the whole meaning of this text:

"Abide in me, and I in you." (v. 4)

"Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing." (v. 5)

"If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers." (v. 6)

"If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you." (v. 7)

"Abide in my love." (v. 9)

"If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love." (v. 10)

"These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you." (v. 11)

"You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide." (v. 16)

Notice that this repetition is intentional. This word, this verb, ties the different ideas of the text together into a single dynamic. When we abide in Jesus, he abides in us. We abide in Jesus when his words abide in us. When we abide in Jesus, we abide in his love. When we abide in Jesus, his joy abides in us. When we abide in Jesus, we bear fruit, and that fruit abides. It is not just something temporary.

When Jesus tells his disciples to abide in him, it is more than a simple exhortation to "stay on the right path." It is a call to be constantly aware of our union with him, of our attachment to the vine. When we know that we "abide" in Jesus, this gives us both a confidence in his love for us (because we abide in his love) and also humility, because we remain aware that without Jesus we can do nothing that will truly last. As he says in verse 5: "apart from me you can do nothing."

2. God's Ambition for Us

2.1 Humility and Ambition: "Up or Out" (v. 2)

And here again we see the tension between humility and ambition that Jason mentioned last week. Humility, because without Jesus we can do nothing. But the program is highly ambitious: in verse 2 we read that every branch that bears fruit is pruned, cleansed, so that it bears even more fruit, much fruit. We are in an "up or out" dynamic: either a branch bears no fruit, and then it is removed, or it bears fruit, and God works on it so that it bears more and more fruit.

There is no third option, no third way where a branch sits there bearing a little fruit, now and then, and is simply left alone like that. No. Abiding in Jesus always produces a transformation, a transformation that continues throughout our Christian life.

2.2 Sanctification: Distinct From, but Inseparable From, Justification

We are indeed talking about what we call sanctification. Sometimes when we speak of the gospel, when we speak of salvation, we tend to speak first of justification: through the death and resurrection of Jesus we are declared righteous before God, declared perfect, without any condemnation.

But here we are talking about sanctification: believers, through the work of the Holy Spirit in us, grow progressively in their obedience, their love, their righteousness. They become - little by little, and sometimes with quite striking progress - what Jesus has already declared them to be. Through sanctification, we bear more and more fruit.

But here is something important to know: while justification and sanctification are two works of God that we can distinguish, we cannot separate them. We cannot say, "Oh no, I don't want the full menu, I just want justification." Look at the text: the branches that abide in the vine bear fruit. Much fruit.

In verse 16 we also see that sanctification is not an extra, an additional and optional experience of the Christian faith, it is the very reason God chose us. It is God's ambition for us!

"You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide."

Why does Jesus want us to bear fruit? Because this is what glorifies his Father (v. 8):

"By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples."

God displays his glory through his children who live according to his character, who put his love into practice, who bear witness to his greatness and his salvation.

Have you ever wondered, "Why, after we are saved, does God keep us here instead of bringing us home to himself right away?" This is why: "I appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide." That is God's ambition for us, a verse we should know by heart.

2.3 Chosen and Sent to Bear Fruit (vv. 13–16)

God has a plan, an ambition. He chose Abraham to be part of this invitation, we saw that last week. He has chosen us too! It is, in a sense, the same ambition: to bless the whole earth from a people who have a source, the vine Jesus.

And just as Abraham was called a friend of God, because God shared his plan with him and made him part of his ambition, Jesus also calls us his friends, not merely his servants, because he has revealed to us his plan, his mission, his Father's ambition for us. So when he asks us to keep his commandments, it is not as mere executors, but as accomplices in a highly ambitious plan that has been revealed to us in his word, as accomplices in the mission of the vine, which is to bear a great quantity of fruit, so that it may cover the whole earth.

In Jesus, we are called to express a love for one another that reflects the love he showed in laying down his life for us. In him, we are sent, just as Jesus was sent by the Father, to bear witness to his Kingdom everywhere in the world. In him, we have access to all the blessings we need in order to bear fruit.

This, in fact, is what the two verses here about prayer are speaking of. It is not a blank check, as if "if you are in this spiritual state, you have the right to ask whatever you want and God will do it", but rather that God grants us in prayer what we ask "in Jesus' name," in order to accomplish Jesus' mission according to the Father's will.

"In Jesus' name" here is not a formula that gives power to a prayer. Picture the director of a company, who has the right to make requests in the company's name. Or an assistant, who has the right to make requests in his boss's name. But in either case, they cannot make requests that contradict the one they represent. So "whatever you ask in my name," which Jesus mentions here, is at once an authorization to pray in his name, an encouragement to pray in his name, but also a condition for praying in his name.

3. Conclusion

What should we take from all this? And above all, how do we live it out, concretely, this week?

Abide First, Bear Fruit Afterward

Notice that here, fruit is spoken of as a consequence of abiding in Jesus. It is not because we bear fruit that we have been attached to the vine — we could never have done that on our own. But because we abide in the vine, we bear fruit.

That is why Jesus insists on the verb "abide": "abide in me." This is not an invitation to try to produce fruit by sheer willpower. Concretely, it means nourishing our union with Christ: through his word, which must abide in us; through prayer, by which God will give us what we need to bear fruit; and within his church, in love for the whole of God's vine.

Accept Being Pruned, in Order to Bear More Fruit

It is clear in the text that God tends the branches of his vine, that he cleanses them so that they bear even more fruit. Sometimes this pruning is something as simple as a word we read or hear that speaks to us, which the Holy Spirit uses to make us grow in maturity. Sometimes it is not comfortable: a trial, a difficult correction. But let us remember one thing: when God prunes a branch, it is not to punish it, it is precisely because it is already bearing fruit, and because his ambition for us is great. Let us not resist the work God is doing in us.

Fruit Turned Toward Others

The fruit Jesus speaks of is never a private fruit, kept for oneself. Nor is it an inward-looking love within the community, a comfortable cocoon. Yes, it is "love one another," but it is also a sending: "I appointed you that you should go", a witness given to the world, showing by our words and our actions the great Savior to whom we are attached. A church truly attached to the true vine does not turn in on itself; it bears fruit for the whole earth.

A Great Ambition That Includes Us

And this is perhaps the most astonishing thing. When Jesus unfolds his ambition (to cover the earth with fruit, for the glory of the Father), he does not treat us as mere executors who are handed orders without anything being said or explained. To us, he has revealed his plan, his ambition, his kingdom, and his salvation. It is an ambition that includes us not only as co-participants, but also as co-beneficiaries of the plan.

Just as Abraham was blessed in receiving God's ambition, Jesus makes us share in his own. So we are not labor in the service of a project that surpasses us and ignores us: we are invited inside God's ambition, to understand its meaning and to find our place in it, so that our joy may be complete.

Ambitious (Genesis 11.1-12.3)

We’re taking a break in our series on 1 Corinthians, which we’ll pick up after the summer holidays. For the next four weeks, before we head into the Psalms, we’re going to be doing a series of messages that get to the heart of what we do as a church, and why we do it. 

We asked everyone in our home groups this week how they’d define the word “ambition”. The definition in itself isn’t that difficult—it’s an ardent desire to have or to achieve something. The trickier thing is to decide whether or not ambition is a good or a bad thing. Most of us agreed that it can be good, but there’s often a negative connotation attached to the word. We’re suspicious of people who are “ambitious.”

As you know, we planted Église Connexion in 2014. Église Oberkampf is in the process of being planted right now. We belong to a church planting network called Acts 29, a network of churches that want to plant other churches in other areas to be able to share the gospel more effectively.

When a church is planted, there’s always a pastor who takes on the responsibility of planting the church, usually with a team of people working with him. Every church planter faces a struggle. On the one hand, a church planter has to be ambitious, in the sense that he sees a need, he sees an opportunity, he wants to do it, and he is crazy enough to think that he actually can do it—actually go and meet that need.

That is an ambitious desire, and it’s a good thing. 

On the other hand, a church planter is never less than a pastor—and ambition (in the ordinary sense of the word) is not one of the biblical criteria for being a pastor. In fact, more often than not the opposite is true.

A pastor is called to be above reproach, gentle—a servant of his people. He is not to be self-serving. But the ambition of a pastor (or any kind of leader in authority) can become self-serving very, very quickly. A pastor, by definition, has at least some spiritual authority over the people in his church, and it’s very easy to start using that authority to serve yourself, to serve your own ego, to serve your own needs for validation. And if the project, and your role in it, becomes more important than the people, then people get hurt. 

So here’s the struggle: how do you take on a project that is inherently ambitious, while at the same time, refusing the wrong kind of ambition in your own place in the project? How do you guard against that?

Sooner or later, all churches will be faced with this problem. We want to dream big, and we want to see the church grow. We want to set goals for ourselves that aim high, and we want to see those goals achieved. At our church weekend last week, we made a big timeline of the church, where people could write all the different things that have happened in our church over the last few years, all the reasons why we’re encouraged.

It would be really easy to look at that timeline and think, We’re doing great. 

But the ambition of the church is not meant to be the same kind of ambition as what we find in the world.

So how do we thread that needle? How can we be truly ambitious for the kingdom of God, while at the same time growing in humility and Christlikeness?

That’s the question we’ll be asking for the next few weeks.

We’re calling this series “Ambitious”, because the Bible really does direct God’s people to great ambition. Few endeavors could be considered more ambition than the creation of a world—and yet, that is how the Bible begins. God creates the world and everything in it, then he creates man in his image. This means that he created man to reflect something of who he is—which is where our ambition comes from. We have desires and plans for ourselves because we were created in the image of a God who has desires and plans for us. 

But then we come to Genesis chapter 3. The serpent comes to the man and the woman in the garden and tempts them. This first temptation is, essentially, a call to ambition. The serpent tells the man and the woman, “If you disobey God, you will be like him.” 

Hard to get more ambitious than that.

So man rebels in his desire to be like God, the world is plunged into sin, and we see its marks ever since.

Man’s Ambition (Gen. 11.1-9)

We’re going to look at one of those marks first, in Genesis chapter 11. If you remember, human beings multiplied, and they dove into such terrible debauchery that God actually destroyed the earth in judgment, in a flood, saving only one family and the animals. Now that family has again multiplied, and they find themselves in one particular place. Let’s start reading at Genesis 11, verse 1.

Now the whole earth had one language and the same words. 2 And as people migrated from the east, they found a plain in the land of Shinar and settled there.

Noah’s family has multiplied—there are, at the very least, several hundred thousand people—and they’ve all congregated together in one place. And naturally, they all speak the same language.

In itself, this isn’t a problem. This is a city; cities are where people congregate. Their assembly isn’t the issue.

V. 3: 

3 And they said to one another, “Come, let us make bricks, and burn them thoroughly.” And they had brick for stone, and bitumen for mortar. 4 Then they said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be dispersed over the face of the whole earth.”

Growing up I always heard this story taught as an example of the horrors of hubris. But if we look at this objectively, we have to admit that there’s nothing wrong with building a tower—even a really big one. There’s nothing wrong with building a city. 

If all the text told us was that these people decided to build a really big tower, it would be difficult to identify the problem. But that’s not all the text says—we see it in why they want to build the tower. We see it in v. 4.

1. “Let us make a name for ourselves.” 

Obviously, our minds immediately go to someone like Donald Trump, with his Trump Tower: he built the biggest skyscraper in Chicago and literally put his name on it, so that everyone who looks at it will think of him.

But in the Bible, names are more than just markers of identity; they’re markers of significance. “I want to make a name for myself” is another way of saying, “I want to be remembered; I want to be known; I want to be admired.”

Their desire to build this tower to make a name for themselves is, at its core, an inward-focused desire. And it’s one we understand. Everyone wants to be known; no one wants to be forgotten. So even in this respect, we understand this desire. 

But that’s not the only goal that’s driving them. These people don’t just desire recognition; they also desire something that goes against what God intended for humanity. 

2. “Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be dispersed over the face of the whole earth.”

When God first created man and woman he gave them the mission to multiply and fill the earth. God created this massive earth, and he wants people everywhere, so that they can care for it. Instead, all of these people are centered in one city.

It’s hard to know exactly what notions of God these people had at this time; Noah definitely knew God, and so there must have been knowledge passed down through generations, but this is now several hundred years later. God hasn’t given his law to Moses yet, he hasn’t made the people of Israel. So maybe they’ve forgotten a few things.

Maybe they’ve forgotten what God told man to do. 

Regardless, this notion of being dispersed is clearly on their minds—as we see in v. 4, they’re afraid to be dispersed, because there’s power in numbers, and there’s safety in numbers. 

You see the problem? These people are motivated by a desire for personal glory, and by a feeling that they need to be self-reliant. We need to take care of ourselves, because no one else is going to do it for us. We want to be great, and we want everyone to know it.

Then we come to v. 5, which is honestly pretty funny. 

5 And the LORD came down to see the city and the tower, which the children of man had built.

These people are building a tower with its top in the heavens…and God has to come down to see it. If you go to the foot of the Eiffel Tower and look up, it’s impressive. If you see a satellite image of the Eiffel Tower, you can tell it’s big, but it’s a little less striking. Human glory always looks bigger from the ground than it does from heaven.

So God decides to act. V. 6: 

6 And the LORD said, “Behold, they are one people, and they have all one language, and this is only the beginning of what they will do. And nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them. 7 Come, let us go down and there confuse their language, so that they may not understand one another’s speech.” 8 So the LORD dispersed them from there over the face of all the earth, and they left off building the city. 9 Therefore its name was called Babel, because there the LORD confused the language of all the earth. And from there the LORD dispersed them over the face of all the earth.

There are two mistakes people typically make when they read this passage. The first is to imagine that God scrambles these people’s language because he is somehow intimidated by them, as if God is afraid of having a competitor. 

When your kid is learning to ride a bike, you wait for a while to remove the training wheels—but you don’t wait because you’re afraid that if you take off the wheels, the kid will be faster than you. You keep the wheels on so that the kid can learn, so he won’t fall. 

Just a few verses earlier, God literally made a flood that covered the entire planet. God’s not intimidated by anyone. These people are no competition for him.

The second mistake we make is to imagine that what God does here is a statement about the gravity of these people’s sin. I’m not convinced that’s the case. Just a couple of chapters earlier, God destroyed nearly all life on earth with a flood; that is a judgment against grievous sin. And later on, in chapter 18, God destroys the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, in judgment for the horrors of their sin. 

But that’s not what he does here. God destroys nothing; no one dies. It is a judgment, but a judgment of a different sort. God recognizes that these people will achieve much of what they set their minds to, because they were made in his image. But he also recognizes something in their ambition that will push them in a direction that isn’t good for them. 

It isn’t good for them, firstly, because it’s not what God had planned for them. God knows what he’s doing. When he told man to fill the earth, he had a reason for it. 

And second, it isn’t good for them to pursue this particular ambition because it is inward-focused, and unified rebellion is dangerous. 

To put it simply, when God confuses their language, it is a judgment against them, yes; but it is also a protection for them.

Sometimes one of God’s mercies is that he lets our towers collapse.

Failure isn’t always judgment; but if we belong to God, failure is a tool in his hand to protect us from ambitions that would harm us. Ambition itself isn’t a bad thing; but it takes great wisdom to wield it properly. 

Human ambition is incredibly fragile, able to be shattered in an instant—and the shattering of our ambition leaves us hollowed out and scarred, because we almost inevitably wrap our identities up in our own ideas of what we want for ourselves. 

But the only being properly equipped to wield unfettered ambition is God himself. And that’s what we see just a few verses later.

God’s Ambition (Genesis 12.1-3)

Genesis 11 ends with scattering, confusion, and frustrated ambition. People scatter, separated by language. 

Then we arrive at Genesis 12, which begins with these words: 

Now the LORD said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. 2 And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. 3 I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.”

Abram does not appear in Genesis 12 as a spiritual hero who has earned God’s attention. At this point, Abram is a new character in the story. He’s done nothing remarkable that we know of. And yet God comes to him, gives him a command, and makes him a promise.

God’s answer to Babel is not the abolition of ambition. God promises Abram the very things Babel wanted. The difference is that with Abram, everything comes as a gift, not as a personal goal.

That’s the first difference between sinful ambition and godly ambition. Sinful ambition tries to obtain what only God can give. Godly ambition receives from God and becomes a blessing to others.

So first Abram receives a command that flies in the face of the ambition of Babel. At Babel, humanity said, “Let us stay together, lest we be scattered.”

To Abram, God says, “Go.”

The people of Babel were afraid to be dispersed, because there’s safety in numbers. God commands Abram to walk into the unknown, away from the safety of his people, and entirely depend on God’s faithfulness to fulfill his promise.

God’s ambition for Abram begins by dismantling Abram’s natural securities—not because God is cruel, but because Abram can’t be the bearer of God’s promise while clinging to the same self-made securities as the people of Babel. 

So it’s not an easy call to receive. But with the call comes a promise.

V. 2: 

And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great…

Here, the contrast couldn’t be clearer. (We’re going to see a lot of these, and it may seem like it’s a bit too convenient—but the Bible is extraordinarily clear. God often directs history to give future generations examples and contrasts for the present. The contrast is purposeful.)

Babel wanted a name. God gives Abram a name.

Babel wanted greatness. God promises greatness.

Babel wanted security. God promises blessing.

Babel feared scattering. God promises a family that will touch every other scattered nation of the world.

God promises Abram something far more grand, far more ambitious, that what the people of Babel were going for. The issue was never that greatness is evil. The issue is who defines greatness, who gives it, and what it is for.

At Babel, greatness is self-made and self-serving. With Abram, greatness is received from God, and on mission for God.

And at every step in the fulfillment of this ambition, the chief actor is God himself. The phrase repeated several times in chapter 11 is “Let us”—let us build a tower, let us make a name for ourselves… The repeated phrase in these verses is “I WILL.” I will make you a great nation. I will bless those who bless you. I will make your name great. Abram isn’t the architect of this ambition; he’s the recipient of it.

And there is one final contrast we see here. For the people of Babel, their ambition had a self-centered goal: it was the goal of self-worth and self-preservation. God’s ambition for Abram has a different goal. God promises to make Abram’s name great, so that Abram’s family will be a blessing to others.

V. 3: 

…in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.”

God blesses Abram so that Abram will be a blessing.

God’s ambition is not mainly for Abram himself. God’s ambition is global. All families. All peoples. All nations. It’s outward focused, not inward.

Genesis 12 is the beginning of the answer to the fracture of Genesis 11.

Babel scatters the nations in judgment. Abram is called so that the scattered nations may one day be blessed.

And we see that promise fulfilled in Jesus Christ, descendant of Abraham, through whom this blessing comes to the nations. 

At Babel, God comes down to judge human pride. In Christ, God comes down to suffer judgment for proud sinners.

At Babel, languages are confused and nations are scattered. At Pentecost, the Spirit enables the nations to hear the mighty works of God in their own languages.

At Babel, man tries to make his own name great. In the gospel, God gives us the name of Christ. (As we see in Revelation 22.4.)

Christian ambition is not the attempt to become impressive. It is the call to spend our lives under the name of Jesus, for the blessing of others, to the glory of God.

Conclusion

Over the next couple weeks we’re going to be talking about specific ways a God-focused ambition can play out in our lives and in the lives of our church. But before we can even start to think in that direction, we need to fully understand the basics. 

I don’t consider myself to be a particularly ambitious person. I worked for ten years as an English teacher, and I liked it. I’d be pretty happy working a normal job, living with my wife and raising our kids.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not ambitious. 

We can see this really easily, especially in our era of social media. Whether we’re on social media or not, we’ve been trained to market ourselves for others, to show them how good and happy and successful we are. And we’ve been trained to market ourselves to ourselves. We’re being trained to look at our life, to think about what we want, and to determine whether or not we’re “successful”. 

How many of you know what it’s like to be dissatisfied with the life you’re living? To feel like you’re not doing enough, haven’t found your place, not following your passion, not living up to your potential?

None of those things are bad, but why do they matter so much to us?

They matter to us because we’re ambitious. We were created to be ambitious. The question isn’t, “Are you ambitious or not?” You are.

The question is, “What shapes your ambition? Is your ambition the ambition of Babel, or the ambition of God?”

Are you trying to make a name for yourself? Or are you willing to let God direct your name, your future, your work, and your significance—however he decides to do that?

I’d be lying if I said I don’t want people to remember me; of course I do. And sometimes that desire can turn inward. Sometimes it can become selfish. 

But I’ll tell you what I want—or rather, what I want to want. I want people to remember me, but when they think of me, I want them to remember Jesus. When people remember my name, I don’t want them to think of Église Connexion; I want them to think of Jesus. When my kids remember me after I’m gone, I don’t mainly want them to remember me; I want their memories of me to make them think about Jesus.

It’s really hard for me to keep that desire in check, because there are always self-serving desires that compete with it. But that is my deepest desire: when people think of me, I want them to think of Jesus. I want them to remember how God blessed them (I can say “through me,” but that’s an afterthought). The best think anyone could possibly say about me is, When I looked at him, I saw Jesus.

The best thing anyone could say about us is, When I look at this church, I see Jesus. 

When we’re in heaven, I don’t care a bit if anyone ever mentions the name of Église Connexion. But I would love for people to look back and remember our church and say, “God was so good to me. God blessed me through them, during that time.”

That is ambitious. And what a waste it would be to try for anything less. How silly is it to waste our lives building towers God will have to tear down?

Let him define greatness. Let him give you his name. Let him direct the mission. And let your life become what Abram’s life was called to become: blessed by God, and therefore a blessing to others.

A Meal for Our Eyes (1 Corinthians 11.17-34)

In 2016, a woman named Wanda Dench texted an invitation to her family’s thanksgiving dinner to a wrong number. Instead of sending it to a friend, she accidentally sent it to 16-year-old Jamal Hinton, whom she had never met. This is how the text chain went:

I remember hearing about this story when it first happened, ten years ago. I’ve been following it ever since.

Jamal was joking when he asked for a plate, but when Wanda actually invited him to her house for Thanksgiving, he came. He posted their texts online with the photo of them together at Thanksgiving, and it went viral. The two became very close. With the exception of a single Thanksgivings when they couldn’t be together, they have celebrated Thanksgiving together every year since; they’re like family.

The relationship between Wanda and Jamal went viral because it feels good to see one human being look at someone she doesn’t know, and see not an inconvenience or a funny story to tell, but another human being. It feels good to see someone who may not seem to have anything in common with someone else, but who is able to discern that they have more in common than they may think.

I have no idea if Wanda Dench is a Christian. But what she did for Jamal displayed something that the Corinthians didn’t seem to understand.

What Paul says in this passage can seem like a bit of a departure from what we saw last week, but it’s really not. If you remember, in last week’s text, Paul accented the differences between members in the church (namely, the differences between men and women) and insisted on the importance of highlighting these differences, for the glory of God.

In this week’s text, he’s going to focus on the other side of that subject. He’s going to accent the unity of the church, in the midst of our differences. And here, the difference isn’t between men and women, but between rich and poor.

This passage has a weight that many others do not, because Paul so explicitly brings Christ’s sacrifice into play. And we can see that he has been building toward this subject for several chapters now. He began this letter by talking about divisions in the church (1.10-17); about the jealousy and rivalry in the church that displayed the Corinthians’ immaturity (3.1-9); about believers pursuing worldly justice against one another (6.1-8); about the dangers of freedom without love (ch. 8-10)…

And now, Paul arrives at the most visible contradiction in the Corinthian church. Not necessarily the most dramatic, not necessarily the sin with the most painful consequences—but the most clearly and blatantly visible.

I. Coming Together for the Worse (v. 17–22)

17 But in the following instructions I do not commend you, because when you come together it is not for the better but for the worse.

That is a devastating statement. Imagine a church service so distorted that Paul says: You would have been spiritually better off staying home.

The question is why: what was happening in the Corinthian church gatherings that was so bad Paul could say something like that? V. 18: 

18 For, in the first place, when you come together as a church, I hear that there are divisions among you. And I believe it in part, 19 for there must be factions among you in order that those who are genuine among you may be recognized. 20 When you come together, it is not the Lord’s supper that you eat. 21 For in eating, each one goes ahead with his own meal. One goes hungry, another gets drunk. 22 What! Do you not have houses to eat and drink in? Or do you despise the church of God and humiliate those who have nothing? What shall I say to you? Shall I commend you in this? No, I will not.

A bit of context would probably be helpful here. If you’ve been coming here for a while, you know that after every service, we set out tables and we have lunch together. Imagine if, instead of waiting until after service to eat, we set out tables at the beginning, and we had our entire service—songs, sermon, Communion, everything—during the meal.

That’s a great idea, and that’s essentially what the early church did. We see a glimpse of it at the end of Acts chapter 2: 

42 And they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. 43 And awe came upon every soul, and many wonders and signs were being done through the apostles. 44 And all who believed were together and had all things in common. 45 And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need. 46 And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts, 47 praising God and having favor with all the people.

That’s a picture of what the early church was like: everyone would come together to eat and drink, they would listen to the teaching of the apostles, they would share their belongings with one another so that no one was in need.

But that’s not what was happening in the church in Corinth. In Corinth, everyone did what we do here at Connexion: they’d bring a lunch. What happens if, while we’re eating lunch together, one of us has a lot of food, and the person sitting next to us doesn’t have anything? We quite naturally say, “Do you want some?”

Instead, the rich Corinthians—who had lots to eat—would start eating early, and eat quickly, so they wouldn’t have to share with the poor Christians who didn’t have anything to eat. One goes hungry while another gets drunk, Paul says. 

Now the problem, as Paul will say a little later on, isn’t the fact that some Christians are rich and others are poor. That happens—that’s part of life, and it’s not a bad thing that some have more material wealth than others. The problem was that the church gathering in Corinth had become a visible reenactment of the sort of social hierarchy that existed outside of the church. 

You see, the problem wasn’t just excess; the problem was contempt. V. 22: “Do you despise the church of God and humiliate those who have nothing?”

The church belongs to God. To humiliate believers is to despise what God himself purchased. And instead of honoring those whom God had saved, the Corinthians had imported the values of Corinth into the church.

It’s the same mindset Paul has been confronting since the beginning of this letter:

• pride,

• status,

• self-assertion,

• “my rights,”

• worldly definitions of greatness.

Churches still do this today. Churches still bring worldly systems of value into the people of God.

Some believers are welcomed while others are left alone. Some believers are neglected while others occupy a lot of space. Some believers come to church like it’s a place for networking. Some believers will gravitate toward people who seem “easy,” and away from people who seem needy. Churches will still, even unintentionally, nourish loneliness within the body of Christ, rather than seeking to make sure every member is cared for. Churches still, far too often, give the impression that church is for “good people”—those who struggle need not apply.

A church can preach grace to all, while actually extending grace to only a few.

And that is the polar opposite of the gospel that we claim to believe.

II. Coming Together the Right Way (v. 23–26)

Here is the gospel we believe, summed up in a sacrament. V. 23: 

23 For I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, 24 and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, “This is my body, which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” 25 In the same way also he took the cup, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” 26 For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.

If you’ve been to Connexion before, you’ve heard these verses; we recite it every Sunday before we take Communion. And there’s a reason. 

Obviously, this act that Christ commands is a sort of visual representation and participation in the gospel. The bread represents Christ’s body, the cup represents his blood. When we take the elements we remember that the Son of God took on flesh, took on a body and blood, and that he lived a sinless life in our place, took our sin on himself, allowed his body to be broken and his blood to be shed on the cross, so that we might live. We take these elements, and we remember what he did.

If that’s all we say about this moment, it almost immediately becomes a personal moment—a moment between me and God. Because of course I’m remembering; you can’t remember something for me.

But the context of this passage is crucial, because it makes it incredibly obvious that this isn’t just a personal moment between me and God; it can’t be, because we take it together, and Paul reminds us of Jesus’s words, why? Because the Corinthians are forgetting what it means to come together.

We see it very clearly in v. 26: For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.

When we take Communion, we always say that this is an act for believers. Paul says that when we eat the bread and drink the cup, we proclaim the Lord’s death. To whom are we proclaiming it? We’re not proclaiming it to unbelievers, because this happens during the church gathering. We’re proclaiming Christ’s death to one another. We’re reminding one another that yes, Christ died for me…but he also died for you. He died for us. “This is my body, broken for you”, plural. 

It should be a shame-inducing comparison for the Corinthians. Christ sacrifices himself for those who couldn’t save themselves; he establishes a new covenant with them, which will never expire; he gives them unmerited grace. The Corinthians are selfish; they feed divisions; they pride themselves on status; and they humiliate one another.

They are giving visual evidence of their division, by having some people stuffed senseless with food, while they sit next to people in the church who are going hungry. But the Lord’s Supper is a visual representation of the fact the old divisions between us have been destroyed. Christ died for us, we are united to him, which means that necessarily, we are united to each other. 

The kingdom of self is over.

And as we see next, living out of step with that reality is a serious matter.

III. How to Take Communion (vv.27–32)

V. 27:

Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty concerning the body and blood of the Lord.

This is a terrifying verse to a lot of people, because our eyes instantly go to the word “unworthy.” 

When I see that word, my immediate reflex is to feel unworthy—because I am. I’m unworthy to be united to Christ. I’m unworthy to be saved and forgiven by his sacrifice. I am unworthy.

This is particularly difficult when you’ve had a bad week. Say you’ve struggled with a recurring sin in a particularly violent way this week, and you failed. Or you lost your temper with your kids this morning before coming here, and you’re still feeling the weight of that conversation. Or you’re just feeling really low, seeing everything about yourself that isn’t right, that isn’t good, that still needs work.

When you come to church like that, you feelunworthy. Taking Communion can feel like a condemnation, because it puts you directly in front of what your sin cost Jesus Christ.

But we need to pay close attention to what Paul says. He does not say, “Whoever is unworthy to eat the bread and drink the cup.” He doesn’t say that because all of us are unworthy; even Paul himself is unworthy. No—he says, “Who ever eats and drinks in an unworthy manner.” That’s very different.

So what does it mean? He tells us in v. 29: 

29 For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment on himself.

That’s the first thing we need to see: when we come together to take Communion, the first thing we must do is discern the body. Taking Communion in an unworthy manner means taking Communion without discerning the body.

But what does that mean? What body are we supposed to discern? It would be easy to go straight to “the body of Christ,” because that’s what Jesus said to his disciples: “This is my body, which is for you.”

But that’s not the only “body” Paul has in mind here. We know this in two main ways. 

The first way, we see in the previous chapter. In chapter 10.16-17, Paul says this: 

16 The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? 17 Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread.

We saw this a few weeks ago. When we take Communion together, we show that we are participating in what Christ did, in the sense that we are receiving it. The bread is a participation in the body of Christ. And since we all take the bread together, we all participate in the same body of Christ together. Which means that we are united, not only to Christ, but to one another. All of us who participate in his salvation are one body, for we all partake of the one bread. 

Now take that idea and go back over everything he’s been saying in this passage. 

He’s telling the Corinthians, “You are united to one another by faith in Christ, and when you take Communion together, you’re displaying that unity. Or rather, that’s what you should be doing. Instead, your actions around Communion show the exact opposite. They show division and hostility and selfishness. 

So in the context of this passage, eating and drinking without discerning the body means eating the bread and drinking the cup without discerning the body of Christ—the church! If you are claiming union to Christ by eating the bread that represents his body, then you must necessarily recognize that the other people sharing this Communion with you are also united to him!

And the Corinthians weren’t recognizing that. 

Imagine if a family came together for a meal, but the father consistently took food out of his kids’ plate and put it on his own. When the kids ask why, the dad says, “Well you didn’t work for this food. You didn’t earn it. It’s my food.” If a father acted this way, especially if it was consistent and not a joke, it would be child abuse; it would be punishable by law. It’s a big deal.

There is no law against rich Christians looking down on poor Christians and not sharing with them. But God has standards of holiness that a human court does not, and he will sometimes exercise discipline on his people to help them understand the gravity of what they’re doing.

That’s what Paul says is happening to the Corinthians—something they may not have realized until now. He says (v. 30), 

That is why many of you are weak and ill, and some have died.

I know there was a lot of questioning in home groups this week about this part of the text, which is understandable. The idea that God might allow someone to get ill because of sin in their life is scary. But we need to pay close attention to the intention. V. 32: 

But when we are judged by the Lord, we are disciplined so that we may not be condemned along with the world.

So God’s goal in allowing this sickness to come on the Corinthians isn’t punishment; it’s correction. Even those who have died—in Greek the word Paul uses is “fallen asleep”, which is the consistent way the New Testament speaks of the death of believers who go to be with Christ. So he’s not talking about condemnation. He’s allowing this situation for their good, to wake them up. That’s the second thing we see: When we take Communion, we are to accept the correction of the Lord.

This is hard to accept, but it is an inarguable truth of the Bible. Hebrews 12 tells us the same thing. God does not punish his children in a definitive way, but he does discipline us—and thank goodness for that. His goal is not our comfort, but our good. His goal is not to keep us happy and relaxed, but to make us holy. 

The reason why it’s so important to see this component is because many of us won’t even put two and two together. We’ll be going through a hard time—something in our life is going wrong and we’re just miserable—and we’ll ask God why he could possibly be allowing this. And it won’t ever occur to us to wonder whether God might be using this situation to lift our eyes to him. Not in a way that says, “You see? If you hadn’t lied to your landlord about the rent, you wouldn’t be sick right now,” but in a way that shows you that you can’t save yourself.

God uses painful situations in our lives to help us see that we are all in need. We all come to the table hungry. We all come empty-handed. We all need him to fill us up.

So how incoherent is it to come to the table as if I were more deserving to be here than anyone else? as if I were less needy than anyone else?

So we need to be really careful when we interpret our circumstances. If we are Christians, we should not be asking, “Is this situation a punishment?” The answer to that question is always no—we are guilty, but we are not punished, because Christ was punished for us, in our place. He may be disciplining us, so that we may not be condemned along with the world, but it’s not a punishment. 

But the question we should be asking is, “What is God trying to teach me through this situation? What need am I ignoring that only he can fill?”

That’s a really hard question to answer, which is why Paul tells the Corinthians that it’s going to require a real effort. We see the third thing in v. 28: when we take Communion, Paul wants us to honestly examine ourselves and to see what is out of line with the gospel. 

Often what happens when we do this is…well, what we described earlier. We examine ourselves, we see our sin, and we feel unworthy. And so naturally, what do we do? We let the bread and the cup pass us by; we think, “I’ll take it next time, when I’ve got my life more together.”

But that’s not the goal, and Paul never tells us to do that. What does he say in v. 28? 

Let a person examine himself, then, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup.

I don’t know if you heard it, but this is mind-blowing. An honest self-examination will show me everything I’m doing wrong, every reason why I don’t deserve to take the bread and the cup. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t. Let a person examine himself, then, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup.

Communion is not for perfect people; it is for repentant people. That’s the fourth thing. When we take Communion, it is not an act by which the “good Christians” are pushed forward while the “bad Christians” hang back. When we take Communion, it is a call to repent. There is only one reason why a Christian should not participate in Communion, and that is if they are living with continual, unrepentant sin. Paul calls us to examine ourselves, because such an examination will drive a Christian, not to retreat, but to repentance. 

And a repentant sinner is exactly what a Christian is. No one in the history of the church has ever been more than that: a repentant sinner, saved by grace, declared righteous because of the broken body and shed blood of Jesus Christ.

IV. A Community that Displays the gospel (v. 33–34)

Now again, the sin in question in this text is the sin of division. And now those Corinthians who are guilty of this sin will be easy to identify, as he said in v. 19: they’ll be the ones getting full and drunk while their poor brothers and sisters go hungry. They’ll be the ones making efforts to exclude others. 

We need to know that no church will ever get this completely right. In every church, there will be some people who sort of remain “on the outside”. There is no foolproof way to make sure no one falls through the cracks, especially as the church gets larger. There will always be things we just won’t be able to see.

The question isn’t, Are we perfect in this regard? but rather, What efforts are we making to not just SPEAK the gospel, but SHOW the gospel in our church community? What can we do when we gather together, to make it clear that we truly are united to one another in Christ?

The way Paul ends this chapter is, for me, very freeing. He doesn’t set up a complex program for roll-keeping or organization that will make sure everyone is included. He gives a very simple, very ordinary instruction. 

V. 33: 

33 So then, my brothers, when you come together to eat, wait for one another— 34 if anyone is hungry, let him eat at home—so that when you come together it will not be for judgment.

We need to see that Paul isn’t just talking about timing here: he’s not telling the rich people, “Wait till the poor folks get there, and then eat all you want and don’t share with them.” The word “wait” in v. 33 can also mean, “welcome” one another, or “receive” one another.

Discern the body, and care for your brothers and sisters, rich or poor, as you would a member of your own body—because you are. 

This isn’t hard to do. 

If you receive and accept another person, then you can help them out. You can give them some of what they’re lacking, if you have it to give. You can share some of your Thanksgiving meal with them, even if you don’t know them. 

And in the context of the body of Christ, this sort of simple act has repercussions far bigger than the act itself, because when you do this with a fellow believer, you aren’t just showing hospitality—you’re displaying the unity you have in Christ, the unity he achieved for you through his life, death and resurrection.

The Meal That Teaches Us to See

So what do we do with this?

Paul’s answer is not complicated: wait for one another. Receive one another. Welcome one another. Discern the body.

And that means we need to ask ourselves some very simple, very uncomfortable questions.

When I come to church, who do I actually see?

Do I see only the people I already know? Only the people I naturally enjoy? Only the people who are easy for me? Only the people who can give something back to me?

Or do I see the body of Christ?

Because the Lord’s Supper does not allow me to come to the table as an isolated individual. It does not allow me to say, “Jesus died for me,” while ignoring the brother or sister beside me for whom Jesus also died.

Christ did not shed his blood to create a club. He shed his blood to create a family.

And families notice when someone is missing. Families notice when someone is hungry. Families notice when someone is alone. Families notice when someone is carrying a weight that is too heavy for them.

Now, none of us will do this perfectly. No church will do this perfectly. There will always be needs we miss, people we overlook, situations we do not understand. But the question is not whether we can become a perfect community. The question is whether the gospel is making us into a more attentive community.

So when you come to church, do not only ask, “What did I receive today?” Ask also, “Whom did I receive today?”

Whom did I welcome? Whom did I notice? Whom did I move toward? Whom did I treat as a brother or sister, not just as another person in the room?

Maybe that means inviting someone to sit with you. Maybe it means staying ten minutes longer after the service to speak with someone who is alone. Or asking a real question and actually listening to the answer. Or sharing a meal. Or apologizing to someone you have avoided or hurt. Or refusing to let social comfort decide who matters to you in the church.

It sounds simple, and it is. But if we believe Paul, it is a responsibility that could not be more serious.

At this table, Christ says to every repentant believer: “You are not here because you are worthy. You are here because I gave myself for you.”

And then, as we look around the room, we are meant to realize: he says the same thing to every other believer here.

So when we come to the table, we come hungry. We come empty-handed. We come unworthy. But we also come together.

And the table sends us back out as a different kind of community: a people who welcome because we have been welcomed, a people who give because Christ gave himself, a people who make room because Christ made room for us.

So receive one another. Examine yourself. Repent of your sin. Receive the grace of Christ.

And then come to the table.

Vive la différence (between men and women) ! (1 Corinthians 11.2-16)

Some biblical texts contain things that are difficult to understand. Others contain things that may be difficult to accept.

This one has both! So we need to pray …

PRAYER

In 1992, a book was published that became a huge success. Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus.

Its premise was simple: men and women… are different.

It made people laugh because everyone could relate to it.

Men don’t communicate in the same way. When they do communicate!

Women don’t react in the same way.

Men often think in terms of ‘solutions’.

Women often think in terms of “relationships”.

In short: for a long time, saying that men and women were different was a given.

Today, the issue has become much more sensitive.

Our era is deeply confused on the issue of gender.

Since the sexual revolution of the 1960s, the differences between men and women have gradually been erased. 

Today, many consider gender to be fluid and constructed, and believe that equality requires the erasure of differences.

We saw this at the Olympic Games opening ceremony: the prominence given to transgender identities, celebrated as a symbol of progress and liberation.

Paradoxically, just as these differences are disappearing… the war of the sexes is raging.

I recently watched this documentary on… the manosphere! The world of masculinist influencers who advocate the domination and contempt of women.

The result: we are caught between confusion and confrontation.

How should Christians make sense of all this?

Do gender differences still have any meaning?

Do they stem solely from culture, or are they part of God’s plan?

Two thousand years ago, another revolution took place. :-)

In Jesus’ day, Jewish men began the day by thanking God that they were not women.

Women had little place in religious life.

And yet Jesus welcomes them.
He spoke to them.
He taught them.
He honours them.

And when we look at the early Christian churches, we see that women participated fully in the life of the community. In our text, Paul speaks of women who pray and prophesy. They are neither invisible nor sidelined. They participate fully.

Yet men and women still have significant differences.

Hence our question this morning: how should we live as men and women in the church?

Do our differences make a difference?

And if so… what exactly?

Before we look at the text, let’s put it into context: this passage opens a new major section in 1 Corinthians that deals with the conduct of Christian gatherings.

In chapters 11–14 of this letter, the apostle Paul discusses how to use our gifts, how to organise our gatherings, and how to celebrate the Lord’s Supper.

His concern is to show how a fractured humanity can be brought together into one body.

This gathering is so important that … the angels … are watching! I don’t know if you noticed when the text was read. “Because of the angels”. No one is quite sure what that means!

Perhaps … the angels are paying attention to what happens when Christians gather together.

But before talking about gifts or the order of worship, Paul speaks … of the men and women in the church.

As if it all began there. 

There are things in this passage that are difficult to understand, but that doesn’t stop us from grasping the central idea: God created men and women differently, and we should celebrate those differences.

Three points this morning

Let’s not lose our heads in our relationships (vv. 2–6)
Let’s not forget our roles since creation (vv. 7–12)
Let’s not turn a blind eye to our differences (vv. 13–16)

1. Let’s not lose our heads in our relationships (vv. 2–6)

1 Corinthians 11:2. Follow along with me.

“I commend you for remembering me in every way and for holding fast to the instructions I gave you. I want you to know, however, that Christ is the head of every man, the man is the head of the woman, and God is the head of Christ.”

The first thing to note is that God has established man as the head of woman.

Did you see that in verse 3? The man is the head – or the head, it’s the same word in the original – of the woman

God has entrusted man with a special responsibility.

Perhaps your reaction is to say: what!

The Bible says that men are the head of women! How could it be any more sexist?!?

My wife and I are watching the series The Handmaid’s Tale. Perhaps you’ve seen it or read the novel on which it’s based.

It imagines a world where a revolution has taken place in the name of a return to ‘traditional values’ and a misinterpretation of the Bible. In this world, women are enslaved to men and demonstrate this by covering their hair.

Perhaps this is what we imagine when we hear that the man is the head of the woman.

The subjugation and degradation of women.

Or perhaps the word “head” makes you think of your boss at work! Perhaps that boss is authoritarian! 

What does the Bible mean by “head”? We need to look at the context.

Look again at verse 3. We have three statements about heads:

Christ is the head of every man, the man is the head of the woman, and God is the head of Christ.

Let’s start with the third: God is the head of Christ

God the Father and God the Son are equal from all eternity.

In fact, one of the first major heresies in the church was to say that the Son was inferior to the Father. They are equal.

The Father sends the Son, and the Son obeys him. They remain equal.

Or let us take the beginning of verse 3: Christ is the head of every man.

Jesus is a King who came not to be served but to serve

For him, being head meant serving and sacrificing himself for others.

That does not prevent him from having authority. Jesus says “follow me”, not “I will follow you”. But his authority is exercised through service.

So man and woman are equal, but God entrusts to man a particular responsibility of service and sacrifice.

Note that this male responsibility has nothing to do with competence.

Paul does not say that men are more intelligent, spiritual or capable than women.

Experience often shows the opposite!

No, it is a bit like the captain of a sports team.

The captain is often not the best player on the pitch. For a long time in the French football team, it was the goalkeeper, Hugo Lloris. Not at all the one who took all the credit. The captain’s role is to serve the team: to motivate, to provide direction, to give his all on the pitch, and to take responsibility if the team plays badly.

The parallel is a tenuous one. But being a leader according to the Bible is perhaps a bit like that. 

***

The Corinthians were losing sight of these distinctions. 

It was common in Corinth, Greece, for women to cover their hair in public to distinguish themselves from men.

In their culture, this was the sign that one was a woman. 

But some Christian women were abandoning this custom.

Perhaps because the Christian message affirms gender equality. They no longer saw the need for it.

But Paul replies: it is not because you are equal … that you are identical to men!

And just because you are equal does not mean there is no male authority to be respected.

Hence verses 4 and 5

Any man who prays or prophesies with his head covered dishonours his head – that is to say, Christ. Any woman, on the other hand, who prays or prophesies with her head uncovered dishonours her own head – the man.

The Corinthians were blurring the differences. The women wanted to dress like men.

But to blur these differences, says Paul, is to dishonour the order established by God.

***

Note that when Paul says that ‘the man is the head of the woman’, he is not speaking only of husbands in relation to their wives.

There are passages that acknowledge husbands’ leadership within the couple.

Here Paul is speaking of men and women in the church in general.

This may shock us. Does he mean that all women must submit to all men all the time?

I don’t think so. 

Firstly, this refers specifically to the context of the church. That is to be expected. The church is the body of Christ. It is the showcase of God’s wisdom on earth. It is unique.

Secondly, Paul uses the word ‘head’… not the word ‘submission’.

What he wants is for all men and women in the church to embrace their differences. 

In particular, that men take on their responsibility to serve …

…and that women support them in this.

***

All this may be a long way from how we see things.

Perhaps we say to ourselves: men being in charge might not be as awful as I thought … but still! 

I’m not convinced yet!

So Paul takes us back to the beginning of the Bible to base what he says on the way God created us.

Second point …

2. Let’s not forget our roles since creation (vv. 7–12)

The French feminist Simone de Beauvoir asserted in her essay “The Second Sex” that “one is not born a woman, one becomes one.”

In other words, female identity is determined by culture and upbringing, not biology.

Although there is some truth in this – it is culture that dictates that boys should be dressed in blue and girls in pink – the apostle Paul says that there are differences that stem from the way God created us.

Verse 7

A man is not required to cover his head, since he is the image and glory of God; but a woman is the glory of man. For man was not made from woman, but woman from man; nor was man created for the sake of woman, but woman for the sake of man.

What does that mean? That women are not created in the image of God? That they are inferior to men? 

Paul is familiar with the Book of Genesis. He knows that God created men and women in his image, with the same dignity, worth and humanity.

But that is not the point here.

He is not talking about their worth but about their roles!

When he says that man is the glory of God, he is thinking of when God created Adam. God gave him a mission. “Glorify me by cultivating the Garden of Eden to fill the whole earth with my glory”. 

But Adam could not fulfil this mission alone.

So God declared: “It is not good for man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.”

Let us not be thrown off balance by the word “helper”. It is not a domestic helper. God is described as “the helper” of his people.

He brings the animals to Adam. None of them meet his need. So God takes one of his ribs, creates Eve, and when Adam sees her… he sings the first love song in history: 

“At last, here is one made of the same bone and flesh as I.”

In other words: you are perfect for me!

You are like me, yet different from me.

We are made for each other. Created to serve together!

You are glorious!

Shows like “Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus” might lead us to believe that men and women have nothing in common. 

That’s not true! We are created equal… and gloriously complementary.

Gentlemen, we were created to take the lead for the glory of God… but we cannot do it alone!

Ladies, you are our indispensable partners!

Mind you, Paul isn’t talking about different roles for men and women here.

In the church at Corinth, men and women prayed and prophesied, and Paul rejoiced in this!

They were engaged in the same activities. All were involved in the ministry of the word and prayer. Paul simply wanted them to practise these in a way that reflected their different roles.

I think that’s the meaning of verse 10 – the strangest verse of all.

“That is why, because of the angels, a woman ought to have a sign of authority on her head”

Some think that this “sign of authority”, perhaps a veil or head covering, symbolised a woman’s respect for male authority.

Perhaps… but the text doesn’t say that. Literally it says: “she must have an authority on her head”. (slowly) A symbol, it seems to me… of her own authority… to pray and prophesy, as long as she did so in a way that reflected her femininity.

In other words, a woman  does not need to become a man to participate. She has her own dignity that allows her to participate… as a woman.

It’s so different from the professional world. Women have told me that to get ahead in their careers, they had to ‘act like men’ according to a distorted view of masculinity. Crush the competition.

Not in the church! 

Men participate as men – as servant-leaders. 

Women participate as women – helpers and counterparts.

That might mean a woman will do the same activities as men but in a slightly different way. In a way that encourages male leadership. More on that in a moment.

I am so grateful for the women I have the opportunity to serve with.

I’m thinking of my co-leaders in the co-group, who have often spotted things I would have missed and told me difficult things I needed to hear.

Thank you, Lord, that we are different but complementary!

Before we get into the practical side of things, a quick aside.

Talking about gender and how God created us may strike a nerve with some people.

In a group of this size, it’s not unlikely that some may have sometimes felt they were born in the wrong body.

We’re talking about gender dysphoria.

Having the body of one sex, but the inner feeling of being the other.

I have seen the suffering this causes within my own family. I had an uncle who is now an aunt.

There is so much more to say than we can say right now. If you are facing this suffering, 

God loves you, he provides the resources you need, and he did not make a mistake when he created you with the body you have.

I encourage you to talk about it, and this book, Transgender, by Vaughan Roberts, offers a biblical perspective that may help you.

***

So what are we to make of all this?

God created men and women differently, with complementary roles.

How does that work in practice? Should all women wear headscarves next Sunday?

Third point …

3. Let’s not turn a blind eye to our differences (vv. 13–16)

Our differences are to be celebrated. 

Today, this will take a very different form from what it did 2,000 years ago in Corinth.

Verse 13

“Judge for yourselves: is it proper for a woman to pray to God with her head uncovered? Does not nature itself teach you that it is a disgrace for a man to have long hair, whereas it is a glory for a woman to have it, because her hair was given to her as a covering?”

I asked for permission before showing these photos …

Three out of four of the Connexion alumni have had long hair. Thank goodness Eduardo’s here to keep us on the straight and narrow!

I hope these photos show that today, what we do with our hair no longer means the same thing as it did 2,000 years ago.

In Corinth, if you saw a woman in public without a veil or with short hair, you’d instinctively think: she refuses to be a woman.

If you saw a man with long hair, you’d think he was refusing to be a man.

That is not the case today!

Customs have changed.

In fact, even in the Bible, customs evolve. Samson had long hair. Samuel never cut his hair. It was God himself who commanded it.

We naturally know that men and women are different. God created us different. But what that implies for our ‘look’… will vary from one era to another.

Having said that, ladies, if your conscience leads you to choose to cover your hair, do so. 

But having studied this passage, I do not believe it is an obligation.

So how should we apply it? Paul wants us to embrace our differences. What does that mean in practice?

There may still be a few clothing choices that this passage rules out.

If I were to stand before you in a dress, it would still be inappropriate today. 

Does the application stop there?

(slowly)

I get the impression… that it is above all… a relational dynamic we should be seeking.

A way for men and women to interact… that reflects the principles of this passage.

What are these principles? Let’s summarise them. There are two.

The equality and interdependence of men and women

…and…

Male responsibility with female support

Let’s take the first: “the equality and interdependence of men and women.”

The Church needs both.

We are interdependent, not interchangeable! 

A Church made up solely of men would be dreadful. One made up solely of women would be slightly less so, but dreadful all the same! 

That is why our community groups, which are at the heart of our church life – if you don’t yet have a group, I encourage you to find one – these groups are mixed! 

We pray and prophesy together! Men need to hear women share God’s word. Women need to hear men. 

Not that there isn’t room for times just among women or just among men. Sometimes that makes it easier to tackle certain topics.

But it seems to me that these times should remain secondary, and serve the life of the whole church.

The theme of “loving the church” in the women’s and men’s groups is very well chosen. It serves the whole church.

It also means that we benefit from having a male-female pair of leaders in every group. In my group, I am unable to look after people without a co-leader to help me.

And it means there is no place in the church for attitudes of contempt towards the opposite sex. In our Bible studies, there is no place for a contemptuous attitude, for example on the part of a man, towards women who may have studied theology less than we have. The same applies the other way round.

“The equality and interdependence of men and women.”

But also … second principle

Male responsibility with female support

As I said, Paul’s idea is not “men do this, women do that.” Rather, he speaks of a relational dynamic to be aimed for.

Certain activities are reserved for men.

Passages such as 1 Timothy 2:12 lead us to reserve the role of elder for qualified men.

But more often than not, we do the same activities.

As I need to listen to the reflections of my sisters, I asked some female colleagues what it means to them to promote male responsibility.

Debs told me this: 

“For me, the key thing is that in the Church, I don’t seek to have the final say.

The elders listen to my opinion — and thankfully, sometimes! — but I want to help them make the best possible decisions.

God has given me a different perspective. I sometimes anticipate certain things differently, particularly regarding how the women in the church will receive certain decisions.

In the Co group, that means letting my co-facilitator take the lead.

And if I have to disagree with him — she says this is very rare, so her co-leader can rest assured — I try to do so gently.”

Another colleague told me:

“When I lead with a man, even one half my age, I want to encourage his leadership, not belittle him.”

These are just some ideas for encouraging male responsibility. 

We need to discuss how to do this in practice. The church won’t change overnight. We’ll certainly make mistakes! Let’s be full of grace towards one another!

But talking about male responsibility also means that we men must take on our responsibilities!

We must neither back down like Adam, nor try to be alpha males. We must imitate Jesus, who took the lead… to serve.

This week I carried out a little survey.

The welcome team: twenty-one women, thirteen men.

Children’s worship: 19 women, 6 men

Music: 11 women, 11 men – there’s parity there

I’m not saying this to make the men feel guilty – the multimedia team has more men than women! But I’d like to offer some brotherly encouragement: my brothers, the church needs you!

My sisters, men need your encouragement!

This applies just as much in the church as it does in the family.

It is up to us men to initiate times of Bible study and family prayer.

Not that Mum can never lead, but it is us whom God will hold to account.

I am grateful to my wife for giving me a kick up the backside recently.

In the morning before school, we take five minutes to read the Bible as a family. I’m not a morning person. It would have suited me just fine to let Anne-Sophie take charge of this.

But she said: I think our girls need to see their dad opening the Bible with them in the morning.

So I try to do it. With a coffee first.

***

So, for some of us, this passage may stir up wounds linked to experiences we’ve had in the Church or within our families.

Some of you may have experienced awkwardness in this area.

Take that to Jesus. If you’ve ever felt crushed by the opposite sex, Jesus doesn’t crush anyone.

Perhaps for others, you wouldn’t present yourselves as Christians today and you might say to yourselves: it all seems a bit backward to me! A bit reactionary!

I invite you to look at how Jesus treats women in the Gospels. Revolutionary. In his day as in ours!

***
I recently heard a pastor talking about several teenage girls who have recently started attending his church.

Not from Christian families.

He was delighted to welcome them, but also intrigued.

So he asked them:
“What draws you here? What makes you come?”

They didn’t mention the music.

Not the atmosphere.

Not the preaching.

They said:

“Here, we feel safe.”

Honestly… where do you hear that these days?

The world no longer knows what to make of men and women.

One moment we’re erasing differences.

One moment we mistrust one another.

One moment we’re tearing each other apart.

But Jesus creates something different.

A body, with him at the centre, where no one needs to trample on another to exist.

As a father of three daughters, I pray that they will be surrounded by men who are like Jesus: servant-leaders.

I pray that they will become women who encourage men to be such servant-leaders.

And I pray that our church will know neither a battle of the sexes nor the erasure of differences…

…but the beauty of Christ … at the heart of our relationships.

Right or Wrong? Sometimes, It Depends… (1 Corinthians 10.23-11.1)

One of the most common conversations I have as a pastor, and one of the most frustrating, centers around subjects the Bible doesn’t speak about explicitly. Someone talks about something—anything—that the Bible doesn’t explicitly mention, and they say, “Is it okay to do this?” 

It’s a frustrating conversation to have—for me and for whoever asks me the question—because much of the time the only answer I can give is, “Well, that depends.” No one wants an answer like that, but often, that’s all I’ve got.

We’ve been on this subject for several weeks now, so we need a recap. The question Paul is addressing may seem inconsequential to us, but it wasn’t for them. It’s the question of meat offered to idols: can the Corinthians eat this meat or not? If the answer is no, there will be some major repercussions for them, because the majority of social events in the city of Corinth took place in pagan temples, where they would gather, offer a sacrifice to the idols, then eat together. 

If they’re not allowed to eat this meat, it effectively means being cut off from a major portion of the social life of their city. So this subject has some weighty implications.

In chapter 8, Paul told them that at its core, eating this meat is a morally neutral act, because idols are not true gods; there is only one God, and one Lord, Jesus Christ. They’re no worse off if they eat meat, and no better off if they don’t.

But not all Christians understand this. Some Christians who have a weaker understanding of the gospel might be tempted to reject the faith as hypocritical, or think they can mix the Christian faith and pagan religions, if they see a more mature Christian eating this meat. So Paul said that for the sake of their weaker brothers and sisters, the Corinthians should be willing to give up their right to eat meat, in order to help their brother or sister grow in the faith.

In chapter 9, he gives them a weighty example of how he practices this same principle in his own life: he is willing to give up all of his rights if it helps the gospel move forward without obstacles.

And in last week’s text—chapter 10.1-22—he went far deeper by exposing the danger of the context. Not the meat, but the context. Eating meat, in itself, is not a problem. But what are you telling both yourself and others if you go to the pagan temples along with them and eat this meat that has clearly been sacrificed to idols? The idols are nothing, but what hides behind idol worship isn’t nothing; Paul says that whatever the pagans sacrifice, they offer to demons and not to God (v. 20), and he clearly says that if you participate in this act, you are essentially participating in that worship. So Paul said, in no uncertain terms, they must flee from idolatry—do not go to pagan temples to eat.

You can probably see the tension in what he’s saying. In chapter 8, he emphasized the very real freedom we have in Christ: idols are nothing, we are free to eat meat. But then he seemed to go back on this freedom and say that actually, at least in some contexts, Christians shouldn’t eat this meat.

So the big question all of this has brought us to is very simple: How do we know what is right and what is wrong? In many cases the Bible is very clear. Killing is wrong. Stealing is wrong. Adultery is wrong. Sexual immorality is wrong. Lying is wrong. Idolatry is wrong. The Bible gives many, many clear commandments. 

On the other hand, it doesn’t ever give an exhaustive list of every possible sin we could commit, because often it depends on context. It’s very easy to find ourselves in a situation of which the Bible doesn’t speak explicitly, and to not know exactly what we should or shouldn’t do. Eating meat in a pagan temple is tantamount to idolatry, Paul says, so they shouldn’t do that. But in Corinth, much of the meat bought or sold in the marketplace was offered to idols beforehand. Could they eat this meat? What if they’re invited to dinner at someone’s house, and the host puts meat on the table? Can they eat that?

As we saw last week, it’s a question that requires a great deal of nuance, so Paul is going to give us two very nuanced guiding principles for all of these situations that can seem morally or ethically ambiguous. This passage is, I think, one of the most practically helpful passages in all of Scripture, because it applies to practically every situation in which we may find ourselves. 

So here’s the first guiding principle: 

Principle 1: Love Trumps Freedom (v. 23-30)

So Paul first goes back to what the Corinthians have been insisting on. They’ve been saying, “We can eat this meat, because we’re free in Christ! In Christ, we’ve been set free from the burden and the penalty of sin, so essentially, all things are lawful!”

On the one hand, this isn’t entirely wrong: in Christ, believers really are free. They aren’t bound by food laws; they aren’t made unclean by meat in itself.

He says it clearly in v. 25-26: 

25 Eat whatever is sold in the meat market without raising any question on the ground of conscience. 26 For [he cites Psalm 24 here] “the earth is the Lord’s, and the fullness thereof.”

I want to come back to something we saw last week because I know some of you still have questions about it. Paul said in v. 20 that idol worship is in reality worship offered to demons. A lot of Christians still operate under a theology of demons that actually comes more from myth or superstition from the Bible. And Paul does away with that in this verse.

He clearly says, “You can eat whatever is sold in the meat market without raising any question on the ground of conscience.” He says this knowing full well that some of this meat was probably offered to demons. 

This flies in the face of the way a lot of people think about these things. They’ll cite stories they’ve heard, or even their own experience, to say that if an object (or a food, or a piece of clothing, or whatever) is used in pagan or occult practices, the thing itself somehow becomes corrupted, and can hurt whoever comes into contact with it. 

Again, I’ll say what I said last week. Paul clearly affirms that demons are real, that demonic activity is real. I’m not saying the contrary, and Paul isn’t either. What he is saying is that the context matters. First of all, he’s talking to Christians, who are indwelt with the Holy Spirit of Christ. And secondly, he’s not talking about participating in a pagan temple here; he’s talking about buying meat in a market. Obviously Paul, who understands demonic activity better than most of us, wouldn’t tell the Corinthians to do this if it was dangerous. The meat is meat, he says; you’re not going to catch some kind of demonic food poisoning if you eat it, and we don’t need to perform an investigation to find out where it came from before we eat it.

Why? Because “the earth is the Lord’s.” Everything belongs to God. It’s his meat we’re eating, not Satan’s.

So yes, Christians really are free; we are under God’s protection and God’s authority.

But that’s not the only consideration to take into account when thinking about this question. Another consideration is that of usefulness. 

Most of us remember what it was like to be a kid and to be jealous of grownups who could eat whatever they wanted. My dad loves to eat ice cream before bed—but as a kid, I was never allowed to do that. I’d always think, “I can’t wait until I’m an adult, because then I can do whatever I want.”

But then we become adults, and realize “I can do what I want” isn’t the only factor to take into account. Yes, as adults, we can eat ice cream and candy before bed. But there will be consequences if we do, especially as we get older (as my belt can attest). So yeah, we’re free; but freedom isn’t the only consideration.

That’s the idea here. V. 23: 

“All things are lawful,” but not all things are helpful. “All things are lawful,” but not all things build up.

Yes, the Corinthians are free. But freedom cannot be the only category by which we make our decisions. And it’s interesting that the category Paul returns to in order to help clarify his point isn’t the consequences for us if we make a given decision, but the consequences for the person with us. V. 24: 

24 Let no one seek his own good, but the good of his neighbor.

That’s the first guiding principle. When we are faced with a situation in which we aren’t sure whether a given act is right or wrong, we must ask the question, “Is this helpful for the person next to me? Does this build up the person next to me?”

To illustrate what he’s saying, Paul turns to a practical case. V. 27: 

27 If one of the unbelievers invites you to dinner and you are disposed to go, eat whatever is set before you without raising any question on the ground of conscience.

So he reaffirms what he said before: the earth is the Lord’s, this meat is the Lord’s. If an unbeliever invites you to dinner, go ahead and eat what he sets before you. You don’t need to ask where it came from; it’s not dangerous, it’s not contaminated by where it came from. 

But what if the context changes slightly? 

Say this unbeliever knows you’re a Christian, and he invites you over, and he decides to test you, to see what you’ll do. Or, maybe he’s just curious about the faith and wants to know more, wants to understand how this all works. Whatever the reason may be, before everyone starts to eat, the unbeliever specifically tells you this meat has been offered in sacrifice to an idol. What do you do then? V. 28.

28 But if someone says to you, “This has been offered in sacrifice,” then do not eat it, for the sake of the one who informed you, and for the sake of conscience— 29 I do not mean your conscience, but his. For why should my liberty be determined by someone else’s conscience? 30 If I partake with thankfulness, why am I denounced because of that for which I give thanks?

We need to remember the first guiding principle: All things are lawful, perhaps…but not all things are helpful. Not all things build up. And when considering what is helpful, it’s not first what is helpful for us, but for the person in front of us.

So if an unbeliever tells you explicitly, “This has been offered in sacrifice,” don’t eat it—not for the sake of your conscience, but for the sake of his. 

Paul is clear this isn’t hypocritical; someone else’s conscience doesn’t change my liberty. But I don’t want my freedom in Christ to be slandered because of someone else’s conscience. I don’t want the reputation of the gospel to be slandered because of someone else’s ignorance.

I know this is just meat; but it seems that this person—let’s call him Alex—thinks differently, because he took the trouble of telling you where it came from. So rather than insisting on my own rights, I’ll come down to his level, and not put an obstacle in front of him. 

This may seem overly cautious, but what might happen if I don’t do what Paul says here? Alex says, “This meat has been offered in sacrifice,” and I just shrug and say, “Okay,” and keep eating. We keep talking, and eventually I have the opportunity to share the gospel. And I tell Alex that Christ died for our sins and united us to God, so now my life is lived entirely for him; he is my only Lord.

But then Alex comes back to our previous conversation. He says, “But I told you this meat was offered to an idol, and you ate it. How can you worship God and participate in idol worship at the same time?” And just like that, at least as far as Alex is concerned, much of what I’ve said about my faith has been discredited; he can’t see how my eating this meat offered to idols is different from participating in pagan worship in the temple.

You see, the moment someone pointed out where this meat came from, they changed the social meaning of the meal. The act of eating is no longer private or neutral; now, it communicates something, even if it’s something we didn’t intend. Maybe it communicates approval. It may confuse a weaker believer. Or it may confirm an unbeliever in their own idolatry. It may blur the line between belonging to Christ and participating in idol worship. 

The context doesn’t change the truth God has told us, but it can change what our action communicates.

So yes, I’m free—but that doesn’t mean everything I do will be helpful for the person across from me. Not everything will help them to see God, not only as good, but as the Lord of all things. 

We need to recognize that in people’s minds, there are so many barriers to the Christian faith already in place. It’s already hard enough for a lot of people to accept. So while we never want to dilute the good news of the gospel or say things that are untrue, we also don’t want to make things even more difficult for them. We don’t want to put barriers in front of their understanding of God. We want to meet them where they are, and be sensitive to their limited understanding of the faith, in order for them to see how glorious our Lord and Savior really is. Living like this will make things more difficult for us, probably—but at least it will make hearing and understanding the gospel easier for them.

So that’s the first principle—love trumps freedom, every time. As Paul’s been saying for three chapters now, we should be willing to give up our rights out of love for others.

The second principle isn’t only guided by our love for others, but by our love for God.

Principle 2: All to God’s Glory (10.31-11.1)

V. 31:

31 So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.

This is the theological center of this passage—and, in fact, of the entire Christian life. 

The very first question of the Westminster Catechism is, “What is the chief end of man?” The answer: “The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever.” That is at least half of the teaching of the Bible, summed up in a single sentence. The Bible is abundantly clear that this is why God created humanity: to glorify God and enjoy him forever.

But what does that mean? We’ve talked about this in the past, but it’s worth saying again. When the Bible talks about “the glory of God,” what is it talking about? What does that word “glory” mean?

To put it simply, God’s glory is everything God is—all of his attributes, all of his character—made visible to the world. When the world sees an aspect of God’s character or power, they see his glory.

So doing something for the glory of God means doing something in such a way that whoever sees us doing it can look back and say, “This act was coherent with who God is.”

Paul takes the most ordinary acts we can imagine—eating and drinking—and says that if we have been saved by God’s grace through faith in Christ, then even these completely ordinary acts have theological meaning. 

There is no such thing as a spiritually meaningless life. Remember at the end of last week, when we talked about how the Christian life can’t be compartmentalized? This is why. The Christian life cannot be divided into “religious things” and “ordinary things.” Food, drink, work, speech, hospitality, entertainment, money, sexuality, church life—the Christian should live in such a way that all of these things can be enjoyed in the presence of God, with a clear conscience. And if we can’t do it like that—if we can’t do it in the presence of God, with a clear conscience—then we shouldn’t do it.

This principle gives even the most ordinary acts spiritual meaning.

How can I drink a cup of coffee for the glory of God? I can drink it with thankfulness, knowing that “the earth is the Lord’s”…and the coffee beans thereof.

How can I do my job to the glory of God? I can work diligently, as if I’m working for God and not merely for my employer, knowing that I was created in his image to work well.

How can I love my family for the glory of God? I can think about their needs before my own, because that is how Christ loved me.

How can I spend my money for the glory of God? I can take into consideration what is available to me, but also what will help me advance the kingdom of God in my own life and in the lives of those around me, and make my financial decisions on that basis.

Whatever you do, whether you eat or drink, do all to the glory of God. This absolutely applies to our own, personal lives, when no one is present but me and God.

But what Paul says next makes it clear that that’s not all he’s talking about. Doing all for the glory of God isn’t a private affair. V. 31 again: 

31 So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God. 32 Give no offense to Jews or to Greeks or to the church of God, 33 just as I try to please everyone in everything I do, not seeking my own advantage, but that of many, that they may be saved.
11 Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.

So again, the context of this verse isn’t just what I do when I’m alone, but what I do when other people are with me. And in that context, we can see Paul is saying that “doing all to the glory of God” means using my freedom in a way that shows God’s worth, God’s holiness, God’s generosity, and God’s love to Jews, to Greeks, or to the church. 

That is to say: everyone. (Remember, he’s speaking in the Roman world. Jews are religious Jews; Greeks are non-Jews; and the church is fellow Christians. That encompasses literally everyone in their society at the time.) 

Now when Paul says “Give no offense to them,” when he says that “I try to ‘please’ everyone in everything I do,” he’s not saying, “Make sure everybody likes you.” That would be impossible, and Paul himself offended plenty of people. The message of the gospel is inherently offensive, because it tells people that they are sinners in need of a Savior.

So he’s not pleading for sensitivity and tolerance at all cost. He’s saying that offense is not a virtue. The gospel will offend, yes—we see that plenty in the life of Jesus. But we needn’t be unnecessarily offensive, uselessly offensive. He’s not telling us to dilute the gospel so everyone will like us; he’s telling us to avoid obstacles to the gospel that don’t need to be there.

This builds directly on chapter 9, where Paul said he became all things to all people, that by all means he might save some. Paul never compromised holiness, but he did give up many of his rights, his preferences, and cultural barriers so that people could see Christ more clearly.

That is what he says again here. His attempts to “please everyone”, to “not give offense,” means not seeking my own advantage, but that of many, that they may be saved.

Love trumps freedom, and the glory of God trumps personal gratification. There is a massive difference between pleasing people because you need their approval and serving people because you want their salvation.

So Paul tells the Corinthians, “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.” 

He is not saying, “Admire me.” He is saying, “Follow the life you have seen in me.”

Paul gives up rights. Paul disciplines himself. Paul refuses idolatry. Paul seeks the good of others. Paul removes obstacles to the gospel. Paul uses freedom in love.

Why?

Because that is how Christ himself lived.

Christ had true freedom, true authority, true rights, true glory. And yet he did not use his rights to serve himself. He gave himself for his people.

Conclusion: Freedom With Intention

The Corinthians—and, honestly, most of us—naturally want freedom without limits. But freedom without limits does not exist, because if we pursue whatever we want, whenever we want, we’ll eventually become enslaved to what we’re pursuing. 

So God gives us something better, and that is freedom with intention. Freedom with a mission. Freedom with a clear direction. 

Like we said before, when we become adults, we are far freer than when we were children. We can, for the most part, “do what we want.” But what we want isn’t always what is good for us. We’re free, but we have to manage our freedom carefully.

It’s the same thing here. We are free in Christ—and that freedom is a gift that we need to manage very carefully, because we don’t just have freedom. We also have a goal: the glory of God made visible to ourselves and to the world around us. 

Paul has answered the Corinthians’ question with incredible—almost uncomfortable—nuance. We always want to know the rules—which is why so many people think in terms of “Where is the line?” or “How far can I go?” Again, that horribly frustrating question, “Is this a sin?” 

But very often, the real question isn’t, “Am I allowed to do this?” but rather, “Is it helpful to do this? Does it glorify God?”

Which is why the answer to the Corinthians’ question, “Can Christians eat meat sacrificed to idols?” is:

• In the temple feast: No. Flee idolatry.

• In the marketplace: Yes. The earth is the Lord’s. 

• In an unbeliever’s home: Yes, eat with gratitude.

• If someone identifies it as idol meat and conscience is at stake: No, abstain for their good.

The answer is not simplistic, because Christian wisdom is not simplistic. And that’s why, once again, I’m not going to try for an easy example to give you. This subject is too big for that. The problem with examples is that our minds tend to store them away—if that particular example happens to occur, then great; we’ll know what to do. But we may well forget every other circumstance that the example was meant to inform.

We can’t make it that easy on ourselves. The Bible gives us an incredible number of clear commandments from God, clear indications of what his will for his people is. But God also expects us to think about what we should do in a given situation—to use the ordinary brains he’s given us and to consider what we know about him, and think about how that aspect of his character applies to this situation. 

This is what it looks like to grow up. As adults, we can no longer be content with easy answers to hard questions—and God doesn’t expect us to settle for them. He pushes us to think hard about difficult situations because even if the Bible is actually very clear, life isn’t as clear as the Bible. Life in a fallen world is incredibly complex. Even before the Internet, before smartphones, before everything we could possibly want readily accessible at our fingertips, it was already complex. And we can’t allow ourselves to be so juvenile as to imagine that if we just follow the rules, then the rest of our lives are fair game and we can do whatever we want.

It doesn’t work that way. And that’s why Paul does not give us a single, easily identifiable rule. Rather, he gives us a whole new way of thinking. Love trumps freedom, and our chief end is God’s glory. 

Very often, the Bible is clear on how we should live. But in other cases, “the right thing to do” really does depend on our situation. An act that may seem morally neutral on the surface—like eating meat—can actually be idolatrous, or harmful, or an obstacle for the gospel, or an insult to the glory of God and the character of Christ, depending on the circumstance. And at the same time, if the context changes, that same act—eating meat—can be performed with thanksgiving; it can be done for the glory of God; it can be abstained from to help my brother and sister; it can be refused to flee from idolatry.

We are free, yes. But we are also called to be wise. We are free, but love trumps freedom, and the glory of God is the chief end of man. This text is a call to grow up. To act like grown-ups. To seek God’s kingdom and his glory first, and to let every other consideration be formed by that pursuit. 

Is it simple? Not at all. Is it good? It’s better than good: it’s what we were created for.