1 Corinthians 1

Today’s Passage: 1 Corinthians 1

Paul takes up his pen to a congregation that has given him more grief than any other church he planted, and the first thing he does is call them saints. That is where this letter begins, and you must not hurry past it. The believers at Corinth were quarreling, boasting, suing one another, tolerating a scandal that shocked even their pagan neighbors, and turning the Lord’s own Table into an occasion for drunkenness. Paul knows all of it. He is about to spend sixteen chapters correcting it. And still he writes to “those sanctified in Christ Jesus and called to be holy,” and still he tells them that God will sustain them to the end. The chapter then moves in three great steps. First a thanksgiving that dares to promise these very people that they will stand blameless on the day of Christ, because God is faithful. Then the report from Chloe’s household of a church splitting into fan clubs behind Paul, Apollos, Cephas, and even Christ Himself, met with three questions that cut the ground from under every party. And finally the deepest answer of all, the reason a church of squabbling social climbers can never have anything to boast about: God saves the world through a crucified Man, which the world calls foolishness, and He deliberately chooses the weak and the lowly and the overlooked, so that no one may boast in His presence.

As you read, hold this: The message of the cross looks like foolishness to a clever world, but it is the very power of God, and the God who called you is faithful to keep you blameless to the end.

1 Corinthians 1:1–3 (BSB)

¹ Paul, called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and our brother Sosthenes, ² To the church of God in Corinth, to those sanctified in Christ Jesus and called to be holy, together with all those everywhere who call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, their Lord and ours: ³ Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Notice how much is settled before Paul has said a word about their problems. He is an apostle, but not a self-appointed one: he is “called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God,” which means the letter you are holding does not come with the authority of a gifted man but with the authority of the God who sent him. Beside his name he sets Sosthenes, and if this is the same Sosthenes who was dragged out and beaten in front of the judgment seat in Corinth, then a man the city once battered is now sitting at Paul’s side as a brother. Grace does that. Then look where the letter is addressed. Not to Paul’s church, but to “the church of God in Corinth,” which is a quiet rebuke to every faction before the factions are even named. And then the words that ought to stop you in your tracks: “to those sanctified in Christ Jesus and called to be holy (κλητός) klētos, pronounced klay-TOSS. Strong's G2822, called, summoned by God. The word Paul uses is a short and forceful one, and it turns up four times in this single chapter: he is a klētos apostle, they are klētoi saints, and later he speaks of “those who are called” and tells them to consider “the time of your calling.” In ordinary Greek it was the word for a man summoned by a herald or invited by a king, but in Paul’s hands it carries the weight of a summons that actually accomplishes what it says. God does not merely put out an invitation and hope; He calls, and the dead hear, and they come. That is why Paul can attach it both to his own apostleship and to their sainthood without changing gears. Neither one was a career a man chose for himself. Both were a word spoken over a life from outside it. And see what it does to pride: if you are in Christ this morning, you are there because you were called, not because you were clever enough to work it out or good enough to be selected on merit. A church that truly remembered that could not possibly divide itself into parties over which preacher it admired most, for every last one of them came into the room the same way, by the summons of God. .” Sanctified. Set apart. Holy ones. Written to a congregation Paul is about to charge with jealousy, lawsuits, immorality, and disorder at the Lord’s Table. He is not flattering them and he is not pretending. He is telling them who they now are in Christ before he tells them how badly they are living, because the whole letter is an appeal to become in practice what God has already made them by grace. And he widens the circle at once: this is for “all those everywhere who call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, their Lord and ours.” That includes you.

1 Corinthians 1:4–6 (BSB)

⁴ I always thank my God for you because of the grace He has given you in Christ Jesus. ⁵ For in Him you have been enriched in every way, in all speech and all knowledge, ⁶ because our testimony about Christ was confirmed in you.

Here is one of the most remarkable thanksgivings in all of Scripture, and it is remarkable because of who is receiving it. Paul has a catalogue of sins in front of him, and his first move is to give thanks to God for these people. Not thanks for their behavior, mind you. Look closely at what he actually thanks God for: “the grace He has given you in Christ Jesus.” Every good thing Paul can find in Corinth he traces back past the Corinthians to the God who put it there. They have been “enriched in every way, in all speech and all knowledge,” and there is a gentle irony in that, for speech and knowledge were precisely the two things this church was most proud of and most misused. Fine words and clever insight were the currency of the city, and the Corinthians had been showing off their spiritual bank balance to each other. Paul does not sneer at the gifts. He simply reminds them whose they are. And he anchors it all in something outside themselves: their gifts are real “because our testimony about Christ was confirmed in you.” The message about Jesus had taken root and shown itself genuine in changed lives. Whatever else is wrong at Corinth, God has truly been at work there, and an honest man says so and gives thanks for it before he says anything else.

1 Corinthians 1:7–9 (BSB)

⁷ Therefore you do not lack any spiritual gift as you eagerly await the revelation of our Lord Jesus Christ. ⁸ He will sustain you to the end, so that you will be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. ⁹ God, who has called you into fellowship with His Son Jesus Christ our Lord, is faithful.

Now let this sing, because it is one of the great promises of the New Testament and it is given to the least deserving church in the book. Paul says they lack no spiritual gift while they wait for the revelation of the Lord Jesus, and then he says something that no pastor would dare invent: “He will sustain you to the end, so that you will be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Read it again slowly. He will sustain you. Not you will sustain yourself. Blameless on that day, and the word means without a charge that will stick, nothing left for the accuser to bring. And to this church, of all churches. Then comes the ground of it, and it is the whole reason the promise can stand: “God, who has called you into fellowship with His Son Jesus Christ our Lord, is faithful.” There it is. The guarantee does not rest on Corinthian consistency, which was in short supply, and it does not rest on yours. It rests on the faithfulness of the God who did the calling. He began this. He does not begin what He will not finish, and He does not call a soul into fellowship with His Son and then let it slip. Paul says the same thing to another church in almost the same breath, and it is worth hearing beside this one:

"being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." Philippians 1:6 (BSB)

That is the settled confidence a believer is meant to carry, and notice that it is not confidence in yourself at all. It is confidence in Him. Understand, too, what this promise is not. It is no license to go on quarreling and boasting, and Paul proves it by spending the next fifteen chapters calling them to repent. The security is real and the summons to holiness is real, and the same God stands behind both. But when the night is dark and your own heart accuses you, the question is not whether your grip on God is strong enough. The question is whether God is faithful. And He is.

1 Corinthians 1:10–13 (BSB)

¹⁰ I appeal to you, brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree together, so that there may be no divisions among you and that you may be united in mind and conviction. ¹¹ My brothers, some from Chloe’s household have informed me that there are quarrels among you. ¹² What I mean is this: Individuals among you are saying, “I follow Paul,” “I follow Apollos,” “I follow Cephas,” or “I follow Christ.” ¹³ Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Were you baptized into the name of Paul?

Only now, with grace and thanksgiving and promise all laid down, does Paul turn to the trouble. And hear how he does it. He does not command as an offended founder; he appeals, “I appeal to you, brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” He names his source honestly, too, which is a small lesson in itself: “some from Chloe’s household have informed me.” No anonymous rumor, no whispering. And then the slogans, which have a horribly modern sound to them. “I follow Paul,” “I follow Apollos,” “I follow Cephas,” or “I follow Christ.” Three of these men were faithful servants of God who never asked for a following, and the fourth name is the Lord Himself, which shows how far the disease had gone. Even the party that claimed Christ alone had made Him into a badge for their own superiority over the others. That is what a proud heart will do with the holiest name there is. And Paul does not argue the merits of the four parties. He asks three questions instead, and they end the discussion. “Is Christ divided?” The Lord has one body, not four. “Was Paul crucified for you?” There is only one name under heaven that was ever nailed to a cross for sinners, and it is not the name of any preacher, however gifted. “Were you baptized into the name of Paul?” You were marked with the name of Jesus and no one else. Every church quarrel over personalities dies right here, if we will let it. Ask those three questions of any faction, in any century, and it has nothing left to say.

1 Corinthians 1:14–17 (BSB)

¹⁴ I thank God that I did not baptize any of you except Crispus and Gaius, ¹⁵ so no one can say that you were baptized into my name. ¹⁶ Yes, I also baptized the household of Stephanas; beyond that I do not remember if I baptized anyone else. ¹⁷ For Christ did not send me to baptize, but to preach the gospel, not with words of wisdom, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power.

There is something almost humorous in Paul’s relief here, and it is the relief of a man who wants no monument to himself. He is glad, on reflection, that he baptized hardly anyone in Corinth, and then he pauses and remembers Stephanas, and then admits frankly that he cannot recall whether there were others. That is not carelessness about baptism; he is the man who has just reminded them they were baptized into Christ’s name. It is simply that he refuses to be the center of anything. He will not have a single soul in that city say, “I was baptized by the great apostle himself.” And then he tells us what he was sent to do, and gives a reason that goes to the bottom of everything: he preaches “not with words of wisdom, lest the cross (σταυρός) stauros, pronounced stow-ROSS. Strong's G4716, cross, the Roman instrument of crucifixion. Stauros meant an upright stake, and the Romans had turned it into the most degrading instrument of execution in the ancient world. It was for slaves, rebels, and the lowest sort of criminal. A Roman citizen could not lawfully be crucified, and educated men avoided the very word in polite company. Cicero called it the cruelest and most hideous of punishments and said the word itself should be kept far from the ears of Roman citizens. Understand, then, what Paul is doing when he plants that word at the center of his preaching and refuses to move it. He is not offering the Corinthians a religious symbol. He is telling them that the Lord of glory was executed like a slave outside a city wall, and that this is the wisdom of God and the power of God for salvation. There is no way to make such a message respectable, and Paul will not try, because the moment it becomes respectable it stops saving anyone. Every generation feels the same pull to soften it, to preach a Jesus who is admirable and a gospel that flatters the listener. Do not do it. The cross has power precisely as an offense, because only a message that humbles us completely can save us completely. Praise God that He did not consult our taste before He saved us. of Christ be emptied of its power.” Weigh that. It is possible to preach the true gospel in such a dazzling way that the audience goes home admiring the preacher. The message can be smothered under the delivery. In a city that paid good money to hear a polished orator, Paul deliberately refused to compete, because a cross dressed up in fine rhetoric is a cross drained of its power. The gospel does not need our ornamentation. It needs to be told plainly and left to do what only it can do.

1 Corinthians 1:18–21 (BSB)

¹⁸ For 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. ¹⁹ For it is written: “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.” ²⁰ Where is the wise man? Where is the scribe? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? ²¹ For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know Him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe.

Everyone who hears the gospel is standing in one of two places, and Paul draws the line in a single sentence. To those who are perishing, the message of the cross is foolishness (μωρία) mōria, pronounced moh-REE-ah. Strong's G3472, foolishness, absurdity. Mōria is the plain Greek word for silliness, absurdity, the sort of thing a sensible person laughs off, and it is the ancestor of our English word moron. Paul uses it three times in a few verses, and never as an insult flung at unbelievers. He uses it to describe how the gospel honestly looks from the outside, and then he does something breathtaking with it: he speaks of “the foolishness of God” and says it is wiser than men. He is not conceding that there is anything actually foolish in God, of course. He is standing inside the world’s own verdict and turning it inside out. Very well, the world says the cross is absurd; then God’s absurdity has outthought the finest minds our race has produced. And notice that the world’s contempt is not an accident God failed to prevent. He designed the gospel this way on purpose, so that salvation could never become a prize for the well-educated. There is enormous comfort here for anyone who has ever felt slow, or unlettered, or out of their depth among confident people. The saving knowledge of God was never held behind a gate you were not clever enough to open. It is announced, freely, to anyone with ears, and it is received by faith and not by brilliance. . To us who are being saved, it is the power of God. The same words, the same Christ, two utterly different hearings, and the difference is not intelligence. Then Paul reaches back to Isaiah, where the LORD promised to confound the clever counselors of Judah who thought they could manage their way out of judgment, and he lets that ancient word fall on Corinth: “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.” And he asks, in a rush, “Where is the wise man? Where is the scribe? Where is the philosopher of this age?” Where, in other words, are all the experts of every school, Jewish and Greek alike, who set out to find God by thinking hard? They are not there. They never arrived. That is the point of verse twenty-one, and it is worth sitting with: “since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know Him.” It was God’s own wise arrangement that human cleverness would never be the road to Him, so that no one could climb up to heaven and take the credit. And so God saves “through the foolishness of what was preached.” He chose a method the world would call ridiculous, entrusted it to ordinary people opening their mouths, and it works. Souls are actually saved by it, every day, all over the earth. Sit with that for a moment, and give thanks, because if the door to God had been marked for clever people only, most of us would still be outside.

1 Corinthians 1:22–25 (BSB)

²² Jews demand signs and Greeks search for wisdom, ²³ but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, ²⁴ but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. ²⁵ For the foolishness of God is wiser than man’s wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man’s strength.

Paul now names the two great objections of his world, and they have not changed much. “Jews demand signs” means a people who wanted God to prove Himself with power, another plague on Egypt, another fire from heaven, a Messiah who would ride in and break the Roman yoke. “Greeks search for wisdom” means a people who wanted God to satisfy them with a system, an elegant explanation of the universe that a trained mind could admire. And what does the church offer them? Not signs and not systems. “We preach Christ crucified.” To the one group that was a stumbling block, an actual scandal, because Israel’s own Law said that anyone hung on a tree was under a curse, and a crucified Messiah looked like a failed one. To the other group it was simply laughable, since no serious philosopher would build a school around an executed provincial. So the gospel offends the religious and amuses the sophisticated, and Paul does not adjust it by a syllable for either. But then he turns and looks at the ones “who are called, both Jews and Greeks,” and everything changes color. For them, the very same crucified Christ is “the power of God and the wisdom of God.” He is the power they wanted, only aimed at a far deeper enemy than Rome, and He is the wisdom they wanted, only deeper than any system could hold. What the world tosses aside as God’s weak and foolish move turns out to be wiser than the whole accumulated wisdom of mankind and stronger than all its strength. Blessed be His name for a plan like that.

1 Corinthians 1:26–29 (BSB)

²⁶ Brothers, consider the time of your calling: Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were powerful; not many were of noble birth. ²⁷ 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. ²⁸ He chose the lowly and despised things of the world, and the things that are not, to nullify the things that are, ²⁹ so that no one may boast in His presence.

Now Paul does something wonderfully deflating. He tells them to look around the room. “Consider the time of your calling,” he says, and then, with no cruelty but no flattery either, he tells them the plain social facts about themselves: not many wise by human standards, not many powerful, not many of noble birth. In a colony obsessed with rank, that would have stung. There were some people of standing in that church, and Paul says “not many,” not “not any.” But by and large the congregation was made up of tradesmen and slaves and freedmen, the sort of people no one in Corinth wrote down as important. And that, Paul says, is not an embarrassment to be apologized for. It is the strategy of Almighty God. He “chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise,” He “chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong,” He chose “the lowly and despised things of the world, and the things that are not, to nullify the things that are.” Read that last phrase again. The things that are not. God takes what the world counts as nothing at all and uses it to empty out everything the world counts as something. And He states His reason with total clarity, in words that leave nothing to guess at: “so that no one may boast (καυχάομαι) kauchaomai, pronounced kow-KHAH-oh-my. Strong's G2744, to boast, to glory in. Kauchaomai means to boast, to glory in something, to make a thing your ground of confidence and the reason you hold your head up. It was not a small word in a Greek city, where a man’s whole standing depended on what he could claim for himself, and Paul uses it and its family more often than the rest of the New Testament writers put together. What is striking is that he never simply forbids it. He redirects it. The human heart is going to rest its weight somewhere and glory in something; the only question is what. So God arranges salvation in such a way that boasting in ourselves becomes impossible, not merely unwise but strictly untrue, because there is nothing left in the account that we put there. The chosen were foolish, weak, lowly, despised, nothing. And then, having demolished every possible ground of self-congratulation, He hands us the one boast that is safe to hold: boast in the Lord. It is a great mercy that He does not leave us with nothing to glory in. He simply takes the little coin of our own reputation out of our hand and puts Christ there instead, and a soul that has learned to glory in Him will never again need to win an argument about whose teacher is better. in His presence.” Every quarrel in Corinth, every claim to a better teacher and a higher wisdom, is answered by one look around the room and one honest question about how any of them got there.

1 Corinthians 1:30–31 (BSB)

³⁰ It is because of Him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God: our righteousness, holiness, and redemption. ³¹ Therefore, as it is written: “Let him who boasts boast in the Lord.”

And here the chapter comes to rest, and it rests on Christ. “It is because of Him that you are in Christ Jesus.” Not because of your searching, your merit, your background, or your good judgment in choosing the right party. Because of Him. Your very standing in Christ is God’s doing from beginning to end. Then Paul piles up four words, and they are worth taking one at a time and slowly. Christ “has become for us wisdom from God,” so that the wisdom the Greeks hunted for through the schools turns out not to be a doctrine at all but a Person. And that wisdom is unfolded in three gifts. He is our righteousness, which is the standing before God we could never earn, credited to us because it is His. He is our holiness, which is the setting apart and the actual cleansing of a life, begun now and carried through by His Spirit. He is our redemption, which is the price paid to buy a slave out of the market and set him free, and which will not be finished until our bodies themselves are raised. Wisdom, righteousness, holiness, redemption, and every one of them is not a thing He gives us at a distance but something He is for us. What, then, is left to boast about? Paul answers with Scripture, as he always does: “Let him who boasts boast in the Lord.” That single line is the roof over the whole chapter.