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.

Stronger than God? (1 Corinthians 9.24-10.22)

Is it a sin to take a selfie? This question isn't as straightforward as it would seem.

For example, you're at a park with your friends or your family—or maybe you're just by yourself. You're having a good time and you decide to take a selfie with everyone and the beautiful park in the background. This is a completely morally neutral act. Nothing wrong with it at all.

But let's say you're at a war memorial. There are people all over the place. Maybe someone next to you has a grandfather who died in the war. The same act, the same morally neutral act—taking a picture—is entirely inappropriate in a context like that. 

Obviously, the point is that the question "Is it wrong to take a picture?" doesn't have a simple yes or no answer. It requires a bit of nuance, a bit of context, before you can arrive at an answer. 

The same thing is true with the Corinthians’ question in chapters 8-10.

In case you weren’t here: In chapter 8, Paul brings up a situation the Corinthians are struggling with: that of eating meat offered to idols. The reason why this was an important question for the Corinthians was because much of the social activity in the life of Corinth at the time happened in pagan temples. If they went to a birthday party or a wedding or something like that, they would often be invited into a pagan temple to eat, and the meat they ate would have been sacrificed to idols. 

So the question was, "Is it okay to eat this meat?" 

It's a simple question, and on the one hand, the answers seem similar to the answer to the question: "Is it wrong to take a photo?" Paul said in chapter 8 that eating meat, even meat offered to idols, is in principle a morally neutral act, because there is only one God, and one Lord, Jesus Christ; idols are nothing. 

But the full answer to the question must be nuanced than that, because context is key. That's why Paul has taken three chapters to fully work through the question. 

The first reason why it’s not as simple as “Yes” or “No” is that our love for our brothers and sisters in Christ may require us to abstain from the thing we technically have the right to do. A less knowledgeable brother or sister in Christ might see a more mature Christian eating this meat and be tripped up in their own conscience over whether or not they should join in. So Paul said that to protect the conscience of their weaker brother or sister, the Christians in Corinth should abstain. And they should do this happily, because for the Christian, the most important thing isn't our rights but the communication and reception of the gospel. 

That was the main point behind his argument in chapters 8 and 9. 

If the first reason to not eat this meat is love for our brothers and sisters in Christ, the second reason he gives here in chapter 10 is allegiance to God. 

And that is what is at stake in today’s passage.

The Stakes of Discipline (9.24-27)

So let’s get into it. If you remember, Paul has just gone through the numerous rights he has been willing to give up in order for the gospel message to be presented free from obstacles—from his decision to not receive a salary for his ministry all the way down to the way he speaks to others.

And he continues in v. 24: 

24 Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. 25 Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. 26 So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. 27 But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.

Paul uses the image of an athlete. Everyone in Corinth would have understood this image, because Corinth hosted the Isthmian Games, one of the major athletic competitions of the ancient world. Paul’s point when he says “only one runner receives the prize” is obviously not that only one Christian will be saved. His point is that the Christian life requires the seriousness of an athlete who actually wants to win.

Alex Honnold is probably the most famous climber in the world; he free-soloed a 900-meter granite wall on El Capitan in 2017, without ropes. So one mistake, one fall, and he dies. The film Free Solo chronicles his road to make that climb. And what you see in the film is that Alex trained on that wall for years before even attempting to climb it without a rope. He climbed it thousands of times, memorizing every move, every crack, every hold. To put is as he did, by the time he’s finished training, the consequence of falling is very high, but the risk of falling is very low, because he’s so disciplined and prepared. It’s incredible to watch because even though what he’s doing is insane, he’s so disciplined and so well-trained that he does it effortlessly, as if it were nothing.

That’s the sort of determined discipline Paul is referring to here. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things—and they do it to receive a wreath. When the stakes are higher, you’ll work all the more diligently to make sure every aspect is under your control. And the stakes for a Christian are far higher than a wreath—the stakes for us are eternal life with Christ for ourselves and for others. So we will work very hard to diligently persevere in obedience.

This is devastating for the Corinthian idea of freedom.

They seem to think freedom means: “I can do what I want because I know the truth.”

Paul says: No. Christian freedom means you are free from sin, free from idols, free from self-rule, and free to discipline yourself for Christ. A person who cannot say “no” is not free.

And Paul wants to be clear that he himself says “no” all the time. “I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.”

I don’t believe Paul is actually worried he’ll be disqualified, because he has full assurance in the finished work of Christ for him. What Paul is afraid of is becoming presumptuous in his own assurance.

That is different.

Presumption says: “I know the gospel, so I can play with temptation.” Faith says: “I know the gospel, so I will take sin very seriously.”

Paul is an apostle. He planted churches. He preached Christ. And yet he says, “I discipline myself.”

So here is the first warning: If Paul does not trust himself with sin, neither should we. The prize we are after is eternal, and the alternative is disqualification.

The Danger of Spiritual Presumption (10.1-13)

As an example of what this looks like, Paul takes us on a walk down memory lane, through the history of the people of Israel. This is not a random Old Testament illustration. Paul is showing the Corinthians that God’s people have faced this danger before.

10.1: 

For I do not want you to be unaware, brothers, that our fathers were all under the cloud, and all passed through the sea, 2 and all were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea, 3 and all ate the same spiritual food, 4 and all drank the same spiritual drink. For they drank from the spiritual Rock that followed them, and the Rock was Christ.

Israel had extraordinary spiritual privileges.

They were rescued from slavery in Egypt and given a new identity as God’s covenant people (this is why Paul refers to their rescue at the Red Sea “under the cloud and in the sea” as a sort of baptism that Moses led them through).

They had spiritual food that God provided when they were hungry, spiritual drink God provided when they were thirsty. 

They had the continual presence and provision of God.

And (v. 5): 

5 Nevertheless, with most of them God was not pleased, for they were overthrown in the wilderness. 6 Now these things took place as examples for us, that we might not desire evil as they did. 7 Do not be idolaters as some of them were; as it is written, “The people sat down to eat and drink and rose up to play.” 8 We must not indulge in sexual immorality as some of them did, and twenty-three thousand fell in a single day. 9 We must not put Christ to the test, as some of them did and were destroyed by serpents, 10 nor grumble, as some of them did and were destroyed by the Destroyer. 11 Now these things happened to them as an example, but they were written down for our instruction, on whom the end of the ages has come.

Israel had every outward advantage. And, Paul says to the church, so do you. 

You have baptism.

You have the Lord’s Supper.

You have knowledge.

You have spiritual gifts.

You have apostolic teaching.

But do not assume that your Christian privileges make you immune to danger. The story of Israel in the wilderness shows us what spiritual decline often looks like:

1. Desire becomes disordered: “Do not desire evil as they did.”

2. Worship becomes compromised: “Do not be idolaters…”

3. The body becomes detached from holiness: “We must not indulge in sexual immorality…”

4. God’s patience is treated as permission: “We must not put Christ to the test…”

5. Grumbling replaces gratitude: “Nor grumble, as some of them did…”

You see, Paul isn’t just giving historical illustrations here. He’s describing the anatomy of spiritual collapse.

His point is simple: we as Christians have the assurance of our salvation, yes. But no amount of assurance makes sin safe. There is a point at which assurance can become warped into pride, and that is the point at which sin takes over. V. 12: 

12 Therefore let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall.

The Corinthians think they stand. They think they are mature. They think they are strong. They think they understand freedom. They think they can walk into idol temples and remain untouched.

Paul says they should be far more careful than that. Not because Christians should live in paranoia, but because pride blinds us to danger. The person most likely to fall is often the person who thinks, “That would never happen to me.”

I hesitated before bringing this up, but I know it’s been on a lot of people’s minds this week. Many of you heard about Sam Allberry, the well-known pastor and writer whose books we’ve recommended to you before. Sam became well-known for speaking about the fact that he has always struggled with same-sex attraction, and had committed to a life of celibacy in order to remain faithful to God. 

Sam’s church released a statement this week saying that he had been disqualified from ministry after new information came to light about an inappropriate relationship he had had with another man. Sam is, they say, fully repentant and accepting of his disqualification. We want to keep the church and Sam himself in our prayers.

Obviously this news hit a lot of people hard, including myself. And I saw so many uncharitable comments online that drastically misrepresented Sam’s theology by oversimplifying a very complex question—a clickbait move which I want to avoid at all costs. 

But I bring it up now because I think Paul’s recommendation in v. 12 makes it pertinent: “let anyone who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall.” I think Sam himself would say that part of the danger in becoming well-known for being faithful in the midst of temptation is the danger of feeling like you’re immune to it. Which no one is, not even those we admire.

All that being said, Paul doesn’t end this section with despair. V. 13: 

13 No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.

This is one of the most difficult verses in the Bible for me to believe, because I can think of a thousand temptations I’ve had in my life which I felt woefully ill-equipped to handle. When Paul says that “God will not let you be tempted beyond your ability,” it may seem hopelessly naive or simply false. 

But Paul is very careful with his words. He says that whatever temptation we are faced with, we will be able to resist it, not because that ability lies in ourselves, but rather because God will also provide the way of escape, that we may be able to endure it. There are a million temptations I cannot resist on my own—but is there a temptation I cannot resist with God’s help? No. And here we have the promise that God’s help is always present.

I hope you can see why this matters. Paul is not saying, “You are weak, so you are doomed to sin.” He is saying, “You are weak, so don’t presume on your own abilities—trust in God’s faithfulness, and discipline yourselves to obey him.”

The Illusion of Neutrality (10.14-22)

Why did Paul say all this? Because that is what is at stake in this question of “Can we eat meat sacrificed to idols?”. It’s not isolation from the social life of your city; it’s idolatry.

God provides a way of escape, yes. But notice—the way of escape is not a mysterious inner strength. Sometimes the way of escape is the exit door. 

14 Therefore, my beloved, flee from idolatry. 

His language is clear and unambiguous. He doesn’t say, “Analyze idolatry,” or “flirt with idolatry,” or “manage idolatry”, or “prove how mature you are around idolatry.” He says: Flee.

Now it may be difficult to see why Paul is saying this, because the main question on the table wasn’t, “Can a Christian worship other gods?” The answer to that question is, of course, absolutely not, and no Christian could possibly imagine the answer is yes. 

But the question the Corinthians are asking isn’t “Can we worship other gods?” but rather, “Can we eat meat sacrificed to idols?” And Paul has already said in chapter 8 that since an idol “has no real existence” and that “there is no God but one,” then a Christian is no better off if they don’t eat or if they do. That’s a theological argument, which we’ll see again in next week’s text: it’s not as if you can catch some sort of spiritual food poisoning by eating this meat.

So why now does he bring in this notion of idolatry? He brings it in because the answer to the question is far more nuanced than the Corinthians may have suspected. In other words, it’s not just about the meat. The meat is unimportant—but there’s more going on here than that.

The example Paul gives to show this is a very important one, and he’s laying the groundwork here for what he’ll bring up in chapter 11. It’s the example of the Lord’s Supper.

 V. 15: 

15 I speak as to sensible people; judge for yourselves what I say. 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. 18 Consider the people of Israel: are not those who eat the sacrifices participants in the altar?

We see that Paul goes back to the Old Testament again to point out that something similar was true for the people of Israel. The sacrifices of the Old Covenant were the means by which the people of Israel remained in covenant with God. Those who ate the sacrifices (either the priests or, often, the person making the sacrifice, cf. Lev. 7.6, 15) benefitted from fellowship with God by partaking in what was offered in the temple.

And the same is true of the Lord’s Supper for Christians, but in an even more profound way. It’s very interesting that in chapter 10, Paul references both of the two institutions that were put in place by Christ himself: baptism and the Lord’s Supper. He wants to press really hard on the fact that these acts are not empty rituals. The Lord’s Supper is not just a symbolic act of remembrance—it is that, but it isn’t only that. It is a collective and public recognition of our fellowship with Christ and our union with one another.

In baptism, we publicly recognize that we have been brought into the New Covenant and that we belong to the body of Christ; and in the Lord’s Supper, we publicly recognize the perpetual renewal of the New Covenant, that we are continually united to Christ and to his body. As Eugene Peterson said, when we come together and take the bread and the cup, “Christ doesn’t become fragmented in us. Rather, we become unified in him.”

That’s what Paul is saying: taking the cup isn’t just a symbol of the blood of Christ; it is a participation in his blood shed for us; taking the bread isn’t just a symbol of his body, but a participation in his body broken for us. In the Lord’s Supper, we publicly affirm: “We belong to Christ. His death is our life. His body and blood define us.”

So Paul’s argument is simple: If the Lord’s Supper means real fellowship with Christ, then pagan feasts mean real fellowship with what stands behind idol worship.

19 What do I imply then? That food offered to idols is anything, or that an idol is anything? 20 No, I imply that what pagans sacrifice they offer to demons and not to God. I do not want you to be participants with demons.

This is a heavy statement, so we need to take a second to parse it.

Paul is not saying idols are real gods. He’s already said they’re not. But he says demonic powers are involved in idolatrous worship.

The Bible acknowledges that demons are not merely symbolic representations or myths, but that they are real, spiritual beings who work against God and his plans for his people. 

Will they succeed? No way—Christ has defeated Satan and demons and sin. When we see movies about demonic possession it’s always depicted as a nearly equal match: God wins in the end (usually), but he has to work really hard to get the demon out. That’s totally at odds with what we see in the gospels: Christ casts out demons with a single word. They are no match for him.

But that is not to say they are powerless. In the passage we’ll see next week, we will (I hope) do away with the myth that you can be oppressed by a demon by accidentally touching or coming into contact with something demonic; I do not believe that’s the case, and I think Paul makes a very strong argument against that.

But that’s not what he’s talking about here. He’s talking about participation with demons, which is a very different thing.

The Lord’s Supper, Paul has said, causes God’s people to participate in the work of Christ; “because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread”. 

That is the same sort of participation he’s talking about in reference to these sacrifices offered to idols. 

In a sense, yes, this meat is just food—eating meat is a morally neutral act. But sometimes the context robs the act of its neutrality. When a pagan worshiper offered this meat to an idol, the idol is nothing; but the act of worship this pagan worshiper is performing isn’t nothing. It is an offering to demons, because by definition, it is not an offering to God. 

So what are you doing if you willfully participate in that? It’s not as if the meat suddenly becomes spiritually contaminated; but what about you? What are you saying if you go into a pagan temple and participate in one of these feasts? 

You see, the real, deeper question isn’t “Are we allowed to eat this meat?” but rather, “To whom are we united?” 

V. 21: 

21 You cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons. You cannot partake of the table of the Lord and the table of demons. 22 Shall we provoke the Lord to jealousy? Are we stronger than he?

Think back to the divisions we saw all the way back in chapter 1. The Corinthians have been fracturing the church through pride, status, rights, lawsuits, sexual immorality, marriage confusion, and now food sacrificed to idols. Paul says the Lord’s Supper contradicts all of that. One bread, one body. The gospel creates a people, not isolated religious consumers.

So you can’t come to the Table of Christ, you can’t claim to be united to Christ, while living as if your choices only affect you. 

Christ is not fractured, and Christ’s body cannot be compartmentalized. God wants his people wholly. Paul gave plenty of examples of this from Israel: they provoked the Lord to jealousy by seeking their own desires instead of God’s will for them. And to be clear, the Lord’s jealousy is not insecurity. It is covenant love. God refuses to treat spiritual adultery as harmless, precisely because he loves his people.

So Paul’s question at the end of v. 22 is very sharp: “Do we want to do the same thing? Shall we provoke the Lord to jealousy? Are we stronger than he?”

The biggest problem with the people of Israel was not a lack of faith that God existed. Their biggest problem was that they didn’t fully believe their union with God was absolute. They thought they could fragment their hearts, giving God parts of it while retaining other parts in service of their own sinful desires. This is what we see in the examples Paul gives: a people seemingly united to God, but in reality fragmented in their allegiance.

And the sad fact is that fragmented allegiance is no allegiance at all.

So the question is not, “What is allowed?” But rather, “Why would a person who is united to God participate in that which separated me from him in the first place?”

To put it another way: Can we manage our own sin better than God says we can? Can we stand closer to idols than he commands? Can we redefine worship, holiness, and freedom on our own terms? If you think you know better than God, feel free—but there will be consequences to your presumption.

Conclusion

Now of course idolatry in 21st-century Paris is rarely a literal temple meal—sometimes it could be, but most of the time it’s not. The Corinthians’ idol may have been literal temple worship, but underneath it was something deeper. It was the idol of freedom without submission to God. 

And that idol is still alive and well. 

Paul has showed us many things in this text. He has showed us the danger of an immature overconfidence. “I discipline my body,” he said, “and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.” Perseverance really does matter. Warnings like this aren’t meant to make us afraid or defeatist; on the contrary, God uses warnings like this to help his people persevere, by showing them the seriousness of the situation. 

Paul has showed us that idolatry isn’t just incorrect theology, but relational betrayal. It is, as the Old Testament states over and over, spiritual adultery; which is, incidentally, one of the reasons why Christ gives adultery as one of the only legitimate grounds for divorce. Idolatry doesn’t just weaken the covenant with God; it breaks it. You cannot drink of the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons.

And Paul has showed us that Christian maturity isn’t the ability to get as close to sin as we can without being impacted. It is rather humble vigilance and discipline. The Corinthians think that maturity means knowing they’re free; but Paul says maturity means knowing they are weak, knowing God is faithful, and therefore fleeing what God says will destroy them.

All of this might seem scary, as if we’re on the edge of danger and we’ve got to get it just right. But that’s why Paul’s references to baptism and the Lord’s Supper are so helpful. This passage is full of commands: run, discipline yourself, take heed, flee. But the commands are grounded in our union to Christ.

Christ ran faithfully where Israel failed. Israel fell in the wilderness; Christ was tempted in the wilderness and obeyed.

Christ was faithful where we are not. He never bowed to Satan; he never tested the Father; he never grumbled against God’s will.

Christ gives himself to us. The cup and the bread proclaim that our life comes from his body and blood.

So we don’t flee idolatry to earn Christ, or to make sure we stay united to him. We flee idolatry because we are united to him.

To put it another way, the Lord’s Supper doesn’t say, “Try harder and maybe Christ will receive you.” The Lord’s Supper says, “Christ gave himself for you. Now do not give yourself back to idols.”

Most of the time we try to end a sermon with what we call an “application”—a way to look at the text and say, “This is what we are supposed to do in response to this text.” But I’m not going to do that today, in part because Paul gives several of them in the text itself, and actually gives his main application in next week’s text. But also because with a question as nuanced as this one, a pointed application runs the risk of erasing all of the nuance Paul has been working to build.

So instead, I want to give you some questions to consider in this coming week, to help prepare us for next week’s text—I’ll leave them up on the screen.

• Where am I seeking freedom without submission to God?

• Where am I asking, “Can I get away with this?” instead of, “Will this help me run?”

• What temptation do I keep trying to manage when I should be fleeing?

• Am I taking into account my brothers and sisters in Christ when I ask, “Can I do _____?”

And lastly: 

• Am I stronger than God?

Are we wiser than Christ?

Are we safer near idols than he says we are?

Are we mature enough to ignore God’s warnings?

Those last questions, at least, we can answer: No. We are not.

So run. Flee idolatry. Come to the table of Christ with gratitude and seriousness. 

And as you navigate these pressing and weighty commands, never forget: No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.

The Freedom to Give Up Our Freedom (1 Corinthians 9.1-23)

If you remember last week, Paul told the Corinthians to renounce certain rights for the sake of their brothers and sisters. The context was that of eating meat sacrificed to idols, which was a common practice in Corinth at this time. People would get together for a birthday or a wedding, they’d eat in a pagan temple. As Christians, is eating this sort of meat allowed? Sure—because (as we saw in 8.6), there is “one God, the Father…and one Lord, Jesus Christ”. 

But a younger Christian, who may not know as much about the gospel, may look at that and think that eating this meat is tantamount to participating in idol worship. And seeing an older Christian doing it may encourage him to engage in behavior against which his conscience is warning him. Paul will go further on this later, in chapter 10, but that’s the gist of the situation we saw last week.

So he said that even if we “have the right” to eat this meat, we should be willing to give up that right to protect the holiness and conscience of our brothers and sisters, out of love for them.

This is a massively important principle, and Paul knows it’s going to be a hard sell, because naturally people don’t want to give up a legitimate right, for any reason. And he knows the Corinthians may feel like they could argue with Paul on this point, because there isn’t a lot of precedent for his application of the principle in this particular situation.  

It’s the exact same situation as the one we see often in church today: a couple are dating, and they want to live together. So they ask, “Does the Bible explicitly say ‘Do not live with your girlfriend?’” And because the Bible does not explicitly say that, they think it’s okay. Obviously the Bible says plenty of other things that should make living with your significant other before marriage a no-go, but it’s surprising what people how hard people will fight to keep hold of a right when they want to.

So in today’s passage, Paul’s going to pick a much clearer, and much more painful example than eating meat offered to idols. He’s going to pick an example that hits everyone where they’ll feel it—the example of money. And instead of telling the Corinthians what they should do with their money, he’s going to tell them what he’s done with his.

His whole point in this chapter is to shift the focus. The Corinthians were asking: What am I allowed to do? But the better question is: What serves the gospel?

1. The Rights We Actually Have (v. 1-14)

Paul’s’s going to do this by shining the light on himself and on Barnabas (his collaborator), and he’ll use several specific arguments to do it. 

Argument 1: Apostolic authority (v. 1-3)

His first argument is simple: “I, Paul, am a legitimate apostle, and have the authority to demand financial support for my ministry.”

Am I not free? Am I not an apostle? Have I not seen Jesus our Lord? Are not you my workmanship in the Lord? 2 If to others I am not an apostle, at least I am to you, for you are the seal of my apostleship in the Lord. 3 This is my defense to those who would examine me.

So he’s just establishing his credentials here. The Corinthians know Paul is a legitimate apostle because he was sent by Jesus, and because they have seen his ministry in action among themselves—he says, “You are the seal of my apostleship in the Lord.”

Argument 2: Apostles have normal human rights (v. 4-6).

4 Do we not have the right to eat and drink? 5 Do we not have the right to take along a believing wife, as do the other apostles and the brothers of the Lord and Cephas? 6 Or is it only Barnabas and I who have no right to refrain from working for a living?

The Corinthians know that the other apostles have basic human rights too that everyone should enjoy—the right to eat and drink, the right to be married, the right to be paid for ministry without seeking a second job. Paul is not anti-rights; he is affirming them.

Argument 3: This is how the world works (v. 7).

7 Who serves as a soldier at his own expense? Who plants a vineyard without eating any of its fruit? Or who tends a flock without getting some of the milk?

Even in the ordinary world outside the church, this is how it works—if you do a job, you should receive a material benefit from the job you do.

So far, all of Paul’s arguments have been logical—and as we know, you can argue logic with someone as much as you want, it doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll agree with you. But his next argument is where he really hits hard.

Argument 4: Scripture affirms the right to be supported (v. 8-13).

Christians cannot easily argue with something the Scripture clearly teaches. So now Paul’s going to give clear support  from the Bible in favor of his right to be paid for his ministry. V. 8: 

8 Do I say these things on human authority? Does not the Law say the same? 9 For it is written in the Law of Moses, “You shall not muzzle an ox when it treads out the grain.” Is it for oxen that God is concerned? 10 Does he not certainly speak for our sake? It was written for our sake, because the plowman should plow in hope and the thresher thresh in hope of sharing in the crop. 11 If we have sown spiritual things among you, is it too much if we reap material things from you? 12 If others share this rightful claim on you, do not we even more? Nevertheless, we have not made use of this right, but we endure anything rather than put an obstacle in the way of the gospel of Christ.

Simply put, God provided such rights to animals in the Law of Moses. Don’t muzzle an ox when it treads out the grain, because if you put a muzzle on him, he won’t be able to eat some of the grain as he works. You may lose a bit of grain in the process, but you’ll be taking care of your animal.

Paul says that God’s point in giving this law wasn’t merely to take care of the animals, but to show that this is the way normal practice should be shaped within the people of God. God says in his Word: “If someone works, they should receive something for their work.” That’s the idea. If Paul has served the church, he has the right to expect compensation for his service, and it has always been this way.

And then he goes even further in v. 13: 

13 Do you not know that those who are employed in the temple service get their food from the temple, and those who serve at the altar share in the sacrificial offerings? 14 In the same way, the Lord commanded that those who proclaim the gospel should get their living by the gospel.

Since the beginning of the religious life of God’s people, those who served in the temple lived by the temple. They received part of the food that was given as sacrifices as a way to provide for their material needs. The precedent was set at the very start of the Old Covenant.

So at this point it should be indisputable for the Corinthians. They may want to disagree with what Paul said about Christians not eating meat sacrificed to idols even if they have the technical right to do so. But no one could legitimately says that Paul doesn’t have the right to expect payment for performing his ministry.

And, as a side note, I think this is still the case today. This should be the norm. A pastor may have to go without a salary for a short time, but it shouldn’t be for an extended period, because churches need pastors, and pastors need to live. In everything Paul says after this, he’s not arguing against this good practice. 

But this is where we reach the turning point of the passage. Paul is unequivocally, inarguably free to receive compensation for his ministry. This right is way more clearly established in Scripture than the right to eat meat sacrificed to pagan idols. Even so, Paul is in a unique situation in his ministry, that pushes him in another direction. Even though Paul has this freedom, and even though this freedom is indisputable, he is giving up that freedom for the sake of the gospel.

Or rather, he’s exercising a different kind of freedom. He’s free to be paid, yes. But he’s also free to give up that payment, if it serves the gospel.

2. The Freedom to Give Up Our Rights (v. 15-18)

V. 15: 

15 But I have made no use of any of these rights, nor am I writing these things to secure any such provision. For I would rather die than have anyone deprive me of my ground for boasting.

Paul refuses to make use of his rights to be paid—not because it’s wrong, but because there is something far better at stake. 

His reasoning may be confusing to us here, because it may be hard to see how his not being paid for his ministry could serve the gospel. The situation in Corinth at the time goes a long way to explaining this. At this place and time (as we saw in the earlier chapters of this letter), itinerant speakers were regularly paid to come teach “wisdom”. They’d come, put on a good show, and give a good speech, and then be off—almost like a form of entertainment, like a stand-up comic might do today. 

Paul wants to be abundantly clear that that’s not what he’s doing. He’s not a performer, and he’s not teaching wisdom. What he’s doing is entirely different.

V. 16: 

16 For if I preach the gospel, that gives me no ground for boasting. For necessity is laid upon me. Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel! 17 For if I do this of my own will, I have a reward, but if not of my own will, I am still entrusted with a stewardship. 18 What then is my reward? That in my preaching I may present the gospel free of charge, so as not to make full use of my right in the gospel.

In other words, this isn’t a career for Paul. He’s not serving for compensation; he’s compelled to do it by Christ himself. Whether he’s paid or not, he has to do this, and he wants everyone in Corinth to know that this is why he’s serving. He does receive a reward for his service, but it’s not the sort of reward most people would look for. His reward is presenting the gospel free of charge, free of obstacles.

So you see how he’s refocused the question. It’s not “What am I allowed to do?” It’s not “What are my rights?” The question Paul has been asking is, “What am I willing to give up for the sake of the gospel?” And his answer is, Whatever I have to!

It’s a good thing for every Christian to ask themselves the same question—What am I willing to give up for the sake of the gospel? Because the answer to that question will show the true extent of our maturity and our freedom. Silvain said something excellent last week, speaking about this freedom. He said that this freedom “me rend capable de pouvoir renoncer à quelque chose par amour pour Dieu et par amour du prochain, et si je trouve cela trop difficile, voire impossible, c’est peut-être que je ne suis finalement pas si libre que ça.” 

That’s Paul’s point. If I’m willing to give something up for the gospel, then I’m proving that that thing—whatever it is—is not my master. Christ is my Master.

And now Paul will apply this principle more broadly, to show that he doesn’t just live this way in terms of his finances, but over the spectrum of his entire life.

3. The Freedom to Live for the Gospel (vv. 19–23)

V. 19: 

19 For though I am free from all, I have made myself a servant to all, that I might win more of them.

This isn’t a contradiction. Paul is absolutely free—and he uses his freedom in just the right way. What “controls” him, what “masters” him, is not anything material or personal; it’s not an opinion or a feeling. It is the call of the gospel. So Paul’s willing to give up everything, if necessary, in order for more people to hear the gospel.

Here’s what this looks like in practice. He gives three different categories of people to show how he uses his Christian freedom to live in such a way that the gospel might be heard. 

And before we get going, it’s really important that we understand this distinction. Paul’s not going to explain how to live in such a way that the gospel is simply proclaimed. When I was in high school a girl in my church got it in her head that it would be a good idea for her to stand up on a table in the cafeteria during lunch and preach the gospel. Her intentions were excellent—I wish I’d been motivated by the same intentions when I was a teenager. But it didn’t occur to her that there may be a better way to do it. When she stood up and started yelling at everyone about how they’re going to hell if they don’t accept Jesus, everyone just thought she was nuts. 

She proclaimed the gospel, but no one really heard the gospel. The way she lived—the way she went about sharing the gospel—actually got in the way of the message of the gospel.

So Paul is going to explain exactly what he is willing to give up, not so that the gospel may be proclaimed, but that the gospel may be heard.

The first category of people he’s going to mention is the Jewish people. 

V. 20: 

20 To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though not being myself under the law) that I might win those under the law. 

This is a fairly incredible statement because Paul himself was Jewish. But his ethnic identity as a Jew was no longer the primary reality of his life. He was a Christian, a child of God, a servant of Jesus Christ. So what does he mean when he says “he became as a Jew” to the Jews?

He probably means that when he was with other Jews, when he was ministering in a Jewish city, he observed the Law of Moses as the Jews did. He observed the Sabbath and the purity laws. We see in Acts 16 that he circumcised Timothy. Timothy didn’t need to be circumcised in order to be a Christian, but Paul wanted Timothy to be present in the synagogues where Paul was working. Observing this ritual law gave Timothy access to people he wouldn’t have had access to otherwise. There are several other examples of this sort of thing in the book of Acts. Paul did things that he didn’t have to do in order to be able to have access to as many people as he could.

Of course, “those under the law” is pretty much the same thing—the Jews are those who were “under the law”—but I think he includes this because there were some Gentiles who had converted to Judaism, who weren’t ethnically Jewish, but who observed the Law. 

So we see his point: Paul doesn’t need to adhere to these laws in order to be saved—we are saved by grace, through faith in Christ. We are no longer subject to the Law under the Old Covenant. Even so, when Paul is with the Jews (whether they’re ethnic Jews or converts to Judaism), he’s happy to follow the ritual practices of the Old Covenant in order to have access to all of them. 

The second category is the opposite. V. 21: 

21 To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (not being outside the law of God but under the law of Christ) that I might win those outside the law. 

To put it simply, he’s referring here to almost all Gentiles in the Roman world. When he’s with them, he doesn’t adhere to the ritual and purity laws of the Jews. It would have been counterproductive. These laws were often seen as boundaries between the Jews and Gentiles, and Paul knows that in Christ, these boundaries have been broken down. So he wants to show these Gentiles that although he’s an ethnic Jew, that’s no longer his identity.

He’s careful to say that this doesn’t mean he’ll do everything the Gentiles do. He says that he’s not outside the law of God; he’s under the law of Christ. There are many moral norms in the Old Testament law that Christ didn’t just maintain, but actually intensified. So there are certain sinful practices of Gentiles—like the sort of sexual immorality Paul referred to in chapter 6—that he will not participate in. But he will exercise his freedom wherever he can to be with the Gentiles on a level playing field, to show that whatever boundaries used to exist between Jew and Gentile no longer apply under Christ.

The third category is beautiful, because it gets to the heart of Paul’s entire argument in chapters 8, 9 and 10. V. 22: 

22 To the weak I became weak, that I might win the weak. 

So let’s go back to the situation Paul had initially spoken about in chapter 8. Meat offered to idols is nothing, because there is only one God. But a weaker Christian may not yet understand this, and may be provoked in his conscience by this idea. So if Paul is with a weaker Christian, he’ll come down to their level, and give up his right to eat meat. He’ll actually act like a “weak Christian”, giving up something he could enjoy, for the sake of his brothers and sisters in Christ.

This is true freedom. Yes, Paul can eat this meat if he wants to. But he’s also free to choose not to eat it, if his abstinence will help a brother come closer to a true understanding of Christ. It’s not hypocrisy—it’s intentional adaptability to the person he has in front of him.

This is what true, Christian maturity looks like. V. 22b:

I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some. 23 I do it all for the sake of the gospel, that I may share with them in its blessings.

Think of it this way. Paul may be speaking with someone in Corinth, and really investing in this person and sharing the gospel with them. Over the course of several days, Paul may eat several meals with this person. He has the right to eat meat—even meat bought in a market, which probably would have been sacrificed to an idol beforehand. He’s totally within his rights to do this. But instead, in order to keep this person from stumbling over the idea that they ate meat sacrificed to idols, Paul chooses to eat only vegetables.

Now here’s the question. Do you really think Paul is going to be complaining about his veggie burgers in heaven? Do you think that thousands of years later, Paul will be sitting and regretting the steak he didn’t have for this guy? Of course not—he’ll be rejoicing in the salvation of his brother, sharing in the blessings of the gospel with him. 

I can say this with absolute certainty: even if our rights are absolutely legitimate, no right given up for the sake of the gospel will be ever missed. In heaven, we will look back and know that we made the right call.

Conclusion

So let me give you two diagnostic questions you can ask yourselves, to see where you land on this spectrum of freedom and maturity.

1. What am I unwilling to give up? 

This is probably the hardest question we could ask ourselves. What would I not give up for the gospel? We can say we’d give up anything, but if we’re honest, most of us have at least a few things we’d find very difficult to let go of.

So ask yourself the question, and be honest with yourself. If God asked me to give up:

• a relationship

• a pastime

• a job

• a home

• security

• an opinion

• vacation

• free time

• any other thing you can think of—

what would I say?

Obviously there are some things God will never ask us to give up (if you’ve got kids, for example, he’ll never ask you to abandon your kids). But there are an awful lot of things that our life with Christ may ask us to give up for the sake of the gospel.

We were faced with this decision when we had the opportunity to come plant this church. Loanne and I both had good jobs, making decent money, a nice house we’d bought in Normandy, financial security, and a brand-new baby boy. And to be clear: when the opportunity to plant this church came, we were under no obligation. We were fully within our rights to say, “No, we’d rather stay where we are.”

But we knew at that time that for the sake of the gospel, it would be better for us to leave. So we left our home, we left our jobs, we left our financial security, and we came here. We don’t regret it. It’s not always easy, but we don’t regret it.

Is that to say we still don’t struggle with this question, that there’s nothing we’d have a hard time letting go of for the gospel? Of course not. But the answer to that question, “What am I willing to give up?”, shows us what we still need to work on—it shows us where the gospel hasn’t yet fully taken hold.

Second question:

2. Am I making the gospel easier for others to hear, or am I making it harder?

There are a million examples I could give of this, but the one I see the most often in our church is relational. Either in couples, or with parents and their kids, or brothers and sisters—it often goes the same way. A disagreement shows up; you both know you are right; but neither wants to back down. 

In almost all of these cases there is someone in a position of authority, either real or imagined. The person in authority is the person with the power. And that person almost always wins the argument. But often, they don’t win the argument because they’re right, but rather because they are able to impose their will on the other because of the authority they have. They win because they’re smarter, or they think more quickly, or they’re more assertive, or more physically imposing. 

We might win the argument—but what are we showing when we win the argument like that? Maybe the argument had nothing to do with the gospel; in fact, it probably didn’t. Most likely, it was about something totally ordinary. But if we belong to Christ, then the gospel should motivate our words and our actions across the board, in every situation. We’ll come to this in chapter 10, where Paul says it in no uncertain terms: Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.

So if the gospel is what motivates our words and actions in every situation, then surely it should be influencing the way we go about having that discussion, shouldn’t it? Wouldn’t we rather lose an argument than win it by exerting pressure or intimidation? This person in front of me, this person I love, who knows that I’m a Christian—what are my relational tactics teaching them about the gospel?

This should always be on our minds, because we have a perfect model of it—not in the apostle Paul, but in Christ. What did Christ model for us? 

Christ was always right. And yet he didn’t exert pressure or intimidation to get his point across. He displayed protective anger on occasion, and he used strong words on occasion, but he didn’t cling to status; he didn’t insist on his own rights. He became “all things to all people” in the deepest possible sense of the word when he took on human flesh, and lived our life and suffered the death we deserved on the cross. He easily could have won the argument against the authorities who were trying to kill him, and he would have been absolutely right. But out of love, he gave up that right. The cross was the ultimate act of voluntary limitation for the salvation of others.

Christian freedom is not doing whatever we want. It is not asserting our rights at all costs. Christian freedom is being so secure in Christ that we can give up everything if it helps someone else to know Christ more.

We are absolutely free—but what we do with that freedom reveals whether the gospel is really shaping our lives.