Throughout our study of 1 Corinthians thus far, we have returned
several times to the topic of personal rights versus Christian responsibilities. Generally speaking, I’ve noted that we are
too quick to neglect our responsibilities to God and the neighbor in an attempt
to protect our rights. The apostle Paul
begins chapter 9 of 1 Corinthians by asserting a right that was his: namely,
the right to be supported materially by those to whom he ministered. Just as a soldier is compensated by his
government, a farmer enjoys the fruit of his crops, and the Old Testament
priests were fed from the sacrifices that were brought to the temple, so, Paul
writes, the preacher of the gospel – and his family – have the right to “live
of the gospel.” The same is true of your
pastor.
And yet, Paul
notes, he had willingly surrendered his right to be supported by the
Corinthians so that they would not be tempted to think that he preached for
money. I am called, compelled to preach,
Paul writes, indeed, “Woe is me if I do not preach the gospel!” And yet, he continues, it is not enough that
I preach; I must preach willingly. The
same is true for me as a wife and a mom.
I cannot go about my daily tasks grudgingly and assume that I’ve
fulfilled my calling. Nor is it enough
that you labor from day to day in your vocation. We are called to work willingly, cheerfully, “heartily, as to the
Lord and not to men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the
inheritance” (Colossians 3:23-24).
Paul then
shares his willingness to forfeit his rights in other areas for the sake of the
gospel. “For though I am free from all men, I have made myself a servant to all,
that I might win the more…I have become all things to all men, that I might by all means save some.” How quick
are you or I to cross our comfort zones for the sake of the gospel? When is the last time you or I have become
what a child, a neighbor from a foreign country, or the misfit in the pew needed
in order that we might demonstrate to them the gospel?
To emphasize how seriously he
takes living for the sake of the gospel, Paul employs the metaphor of an
athlete. Corinth was the Greek city in
which the Isthmian Games were held. The
Isthmian Games were similar to the Olympic Games, they were simply held on
alternating years. So when Paul compares
living the Christian life to that of a runner or a boxer, the Corinthians knew
well that Paul was telling them to live as an athlete who is training for the
gold medal. Like an athlete, the
Christian must exert himself under intense training in holiness and discipleship. There is no room for aimless
running or for shadow boxing in the life of one whose eyes are fixed on the
prize. The Christian life is not living the
American dream with a Jesus sticker on your bumper. The Christian life does not entitle one to take
time off from training because he or she has just married, had a baby, been too
busy, or turned 65. There is no retirement
from our responsibilities. Ours is lifelong
rigorous training, of sacrificing our own body and our own will for the sake of
the gospel and the goal of a heavenly reward.
Is that how we live?
Perhaps
you’ve heard of Eric Liddel, the Scottish runner who refused to run the 100
meter dash, which he was favored to win, at the 1924 Paris Olympic Games
because a heat of that race was held on Sunday.
Instead he ran the 400 meters, at which he had previously performed
modestly in comparison, and astonished the world when he not only won, but also
broke the existing Olympic and world records in the event. Shortly thereafter Liddell became a
missionary to China, where he died in a prisoner of war camp at the age of 43. While in China, Liddell was questioned as to
his strategy in the 400 meters. He
responded, “I ran the first 200 as hard as I could, and then, for the second
200, with God’s help, I ran harder.”
That’s the
way we’re called to live the Christian life.
So run, that you may obtain.