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.