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SERMON
Today we begin a study of one of the most provocative books in the New
Testament. I say that because, in this early letter to the church at
Corinth, Paul manages to push all sorts of "hot buttons." Along with the
folks at First Church Corinth, he forces us, the readers, to reexamine
some of our most time-honored prejudices. So I would advise you at the
outset that it won't always be easy reading. But you can be sure that
the rewards of diligent study will be well worth the investment. Now
before we get into our study of the text, it would be a good idea to
have a little background on the audience to whom Paul was writing.
The City
When Paul first came to Corinth it was a truly cosmopolitan city of
perhaps 250,000 and therefore a strategic spot to plant a new church. It
was in fact a relatively new city of the Roman Empire, having been
rebuilt by Julius Caesar in 46 B.C. (just one hundred years after the
Romans had reduced this ancient Greek city to rubble). But Corinth was
bound to make a comeback because of its prime location. Situated on a
four-mile-wide isthmus connecting the northern and southern parts of
Greece like an hourglass, Corinth was also the logical link for
east-west commercial shipping. As well as being a bazaar for
international trade, and therefore a multi-cultural melting pot, it was
also a popular venue for athletic events – in fact, second only to the
Olympics in Athens.
Corinth was also a center of religious activities with at least twelve
different temples: dedicated to Apollo and Asclepius, to Isis and
Astarte and other foreign gods, as well as a Jewish synagogue. But
towering above them all, situated on the hill of the Acropolis, stood
the temple to Aphrodite, the goddess of love. And from all accounts it
was doing a brisk business. The temple employed one thousand
priestesses, sacred prostitutes in fact, who would descend the hill at
evening to ply their trade – turning tricks for ostensibly religious
reasons. (Apparently the rules that applied to non-profit organizations
were rather more "relaxed" in those days.) The net effect of all this
was that Corinth had acquired a widespread reputation as a center of
religious license, not to mention licentiousness, wickedness and
debauchery (along with a host of socially transmitted diseases).
The Church
Into this unlikely setting came an itinerant preacher named Paul. If you
recall the story of Paul's travels in Acts, chapter 18, you know that
Paul arrived in Corinth disheartened, friendless and broke. So his
ministry there began, to quote Paul's own words, "in weakness and fear
and with much trembling." He had been run out of other towns. In Athens,
the most recent stop on his tour, he had been yawned at by most of the
resident intellectuals. Clearly, Paul had come to Corinth rather shaken
and in need of reassurance.
God met his need in the form of two colleagues in the tentmaking
business named Priscilla and Aquila. So Paul worked during the week and
taught, as was his custom, in the synagogue on the Sabbath. When Silas
and Timothy arrived, Paul was then able to teach full-time. Soon,
however, he was run out of the synagogue. But a believing next-door
neighbor named Titus Justus offered Paul his own home as a place to
teach. So before long, folks in the synagogue were making their way next
door, where many of them gave their lives to Christ. Later, there was an
abortive (rather comical) attempt to run him out of town. So Paul stayed
for eighteen months as the organizing pastor of First Church Corinth
(his second-longest pastorate) before moving on to Syria and Ephesus.
This eclectic congregation was made up of slaves and artisans,
longshoremen and homemakers, along with a handful of intellectuals. His
successor was a bright young Christian preacher named Apollos.
The Letter
Some time later the situation at First Church Corinth began to
deteriorate. The church leaders had evidently sent a reassuring letter
to Paul. But first-hand reports from some reliable sources painted quite
a different picture. They told him of growing factions in the church, of
lax discipline, civil lawsuits between church members, immorality and
abuses of spiritual gifts. So it was in response to these reports that
Paul wrote the letter we know as First Corinthians.
After his initial salutation and thanksgiving, Paul's letter deals with
church factions, scandal, lawsuits among believers, sexual immorality,
marriage, religious freedom and responsibility, women's role in church,
the administration of the sacraments, uses of spiritual gifts, the
reality of the resurrection, and finally some personal requests. It
would seem that there was something for almost everyone in that letter.
Now, with that overview, let's focus on the initial problem of
divisiveness in the church.
The Problem
In chapter 1, verse 11, Paul gets right to the point. He writes: "My
brothers, some from Chloe's household have informed me that there are
quarrels among you. What I mean is this: One of you says, ‘I follow
Paul'; (probably gentile believers) another, ‘I follow
Apollos'; (the intellectuals, perhaps) another, ‘I follow
Cephas'; (that would be Jewish Christians most likely)
still another, ‘I follow Christ'" (perhaps the ultimate arrogance).
The issue was clear to Paul. The Christians in Corinth were so proud of
their own status in the church community that they had lost sight of the
true source of their worth.
But before we agree with Paul and shake our heads in disgust at the
folks in Corinth, we'd do well to consider the criteria by which we tend
to measure our own worth. Perhaps it's our financial security or our
appearance or our race or our intellect. It may be that we rely on our
status in society or our religious credentials to give us a sense of
worth. Now granted, those are all useful criteria, but they are of
limited value. They're rather like the Index of Leading Economic
Indicators. It may be able to accurately measure the economic health of
a country but at the same time be oblivious to its moral health. It's
possible to be financially healthy and morally bankrupt at the same
time.
But pride can blind you to the bigger picture; and Paul rightly saw that
this church's divisiveness was rooted in pride. But he also knew that
the only solution to the problem lay in admitting their need. But it's
hard for proud people to admit they need anything. That church was being
fractured by spiritual pride. Those people were dying spiritually and
evidently didn't even realize it. So Paul launches his attack on their
spiritual pride with two arguments.
Paul's case: point 1
First he lays out his theological case. At verse 18 he writes:
"The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but
to us who are being saved it is the power of God." Paul's point
is simply this: God's wisdom is not the same as human wisdom.
Paul candidly admits that the message of the cross does indeed seem like
"foolishness" to some. He writes: "Jews demand miraculous signs
and Greeks look for wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling
block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles." What did he mean by
that?
To the Jews the crucifixion of Jesus was a stumbling block for at least
two reasons. First, they would say that the crucified Jesus couldn't be
the Son of God because God's Law unequivocally condemns him. In
Deuteronomy 21:23 the Law states: "Anyone who is hung on a tree is
under God's curse." So to an orthodox Jew, the cross clearly
refuted Jesus' claim to divinity. Second, Paul says, the Jews "demanded
a sign." That is: they wanted miraculous proof of his divinity. But
again Jesus offended them. He told them that it's a wicked and perverse
generation that wants a sign; and so the only sign they would be given
was the sign of Jonah. That is: that he would be swallowed up and three
days later mysteriously appear again, like Jonah. The Jews simply
couldn't accept that paradoxical explanation. So to them the cross of
Jesus was an immense stumbling block.
At the same time, the cross seemed like foolishness to the Greeks; and
for at least two reasons as well. According to Greek philosophy the
primary attribute of God is apatheia (from which we get the
English word "apathy"). But in Greek the word doesn't mean
"indifferent," it means "unaffected" or "unmoved." Their reasoning went
like this. Persons moved to pity are, in some sense, controlled by the
object of their pity. But since God is omnipotent, it stands to reason
that he can't be controlled in any way. So to the Greeks, the idea of a
compassionate God would be the ultimate oxymoron. Second, Paul says that
the Greeks "look for wisdom." But over time this noble pursuit had
degenerated into sophistry. They had a love affair with high-sounding
phrases that didn't mean much – a romance with eloquence without
substance. And frankly there's nothing very eloquent about a
crucifixion. And so, Paul says, the cross seemed like foolishness to the
Greeks.
Then Paul adds, "…but to those whom God has called, both Jews and
Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the
foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God
is stronger than man's strength." I am forever in awe of those
ball players who, with two strikes against them, remain unruffled – and
then on the next pitch they power it out of the park. And here Paul
tells us that even though the cross of Christ has two strikes against
it, he still puts his full confidence in God's "foolishness" and
"weakness." Why? Because God's wisdom is not the same as human wisdom.
So we have no reason to boast in our wisdom. And I'm here to tell you
that the time will come when each of us will have to come to terms with
the cross of Christ in all its perplexing simplicity.
Paul's case: point 2
So much for Paul's philosophical argument. At verse 26 Paul abruptly
shifts his readers' attention onto themselves. And it's here that he
launches his second and far more personal attack on spiritual pride. He
writes: "Brothers, think of what YOU were when you were called.
Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential;
not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the
world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame
the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised
things and the things that are not to nullify the things that are, so
that no one may boast before him. It is because of him that you are in
Christ Jesus." Paul's point is simply this: God's values are
not the same as human values.
Paul invites his readers to remember where they were when God first
picked them up. He says to them, in effect, "Remember that most of
you started out with two strikes against YOU – both intellectually and
socially. Consider what God has done with you. Your ‘foolish' trust in
Christ shames the sophists with their empty-headed trust in themselves.
Your so-called ‘weakness' allows you to bend, while those who rely on
their own strength snap under pressure. You who were once despised and
considered worthless, disposable non-entities have discovered in Christ
that you are precious to God beyond all reason. So you know in your
heart that what the world calls ‘important' is, by comparison, less than
nothing. So you have no reason to boast to God or anybody else about who
you are or what you've done."
And just as Paul wanted, so I want you to never forget that your
worth is utterly and ultimately based, not on who you are or what you've
accomplished, but on what God has done for you in the gift of his Son
Jesus. It is by the gift of our Lord Jesus Christ that any of us has a
share of God's wisdom and righteousness and holiness and redemption. So
as Paul wrote to his beloved, contentious brothers and sisters in
Corinth, so I say to you (in the words of Jeremiah): "If you're
going to boast about anything, boast about the God who could love even
the likes of you."
Charles Steinmetz was known as the Electrical Wizard at GE during the
early days of the past century. On one occasion he was called out of
retirement by a group of GE engineers who were baffled by the breakdown
of a complex of machines. Steinmetz spent several minutes walking around
the machines; then he took a piece of chalk and marked a cross at one
point on one part of one machine. It turned out to be precisely the
point of the breakdown. A few days later they received a bill from
Steinmetz for $10,000 – a staggering sum in those days. They returned
the bill, asking him to itemize it. He replied simply: "Making one
cross mark – $1. Knowing where to put it – $9,999."
"The cross is foolishness to those who are perishing,"
says Paul. But to those who know where to put it, the cross is the power
of God. Do you know where to put that cross? Put it over your heart. Put
it over your mind. Put it over your ingenuity. Put it over your
cleverness. Put it over all of your accomplishments. Put it over your
meager attempts at righteousness. Put it over your whole being. It's
good medicine for a case of spiritual pride.
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