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.