1 Corinthians 1:18--2:5 · Christ the Wisdom and Power of God
The Way Things Are
1 Corinthians 1:18-31
Sermon
by John N. Brittain
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The other day I stumbled onto a Discovery Channel show about underwater archaeology (not basket weaving). The archaeologist described the process of identifying the probable location of an underwater wreck site, the grueling work involved in beginning the process, and the same kind of methodical work that characterizes all scientific archaeology. But then her eyes twinkled as she described the joy of uncovering the first artifact, or recognizing a significant discovery. And that of course is what it is all about, the final product of discovery. I have a friend who took up scuba diving several years ago, and he would probably just be happy swimming around but that would miss the point. We have all seen the same thing at one time or another when someone is involved in the creative process: Although it may look like fun to get in there and just throw a blob of clay or get our hands in the paint, we don't confuse that with real artistic ability; nor do we mistake a child's plunking on a piano with skilled jazz improvisation.

One of the things I love about Paul's letters is that you can see his mind at work and almost see him pacing back and forth as he dictates. I love that passage we read last week where Paul says, "I only baptized a couple of people ... well, now that I think about it I baptized a few more ... well it really doesn't matter," and then gets to his main point, which is that as important as Christian baptism is, it should not be used as a pretext for dividing the body of Christ. The danger is that you can get so caught up in the details of Paul's argumentation that you miss the point, or at least arrive at a point that wasn't really Paul's main intent. I think that that happens a lot with the portion we are thinking about today, which is often used as a proof-text for anti-intellectualism and the idea that "you don't need no book learnin' to be a good Christian." Others have used it as a pretext for anti-Semitic thought, as if Paul is saying that because those bad Jews look for signs, and we don't (?) we are better than they. Neither of those strands is the heart of what Paul is saying. What he is saying is pretty clear: The message ("word") about the Cross is the power of God (v. 18); Christ is "the power of God and the wisdom of God" (v. 24); he is "our wisdom, our righteousness and sanctification and redemption" (v. 30). That is the heart of this section (vv. 18-31).

But he does start out with this quote from Isaiah 29 about God destroying the wisdom of the wise and the discernment or intelligence of others. So clearly there is an important teaching here. We do need to put it in context. According to Acts, Paul had originally arrived in Corinth after his visit to Athens. In Corinth, he would have encountered the same fascination with public speaking that is described in Acts 17:21: "Now all the Athenians and the foreigners living there would spend their time in nothing but telling or hearing something new." We should not take this to necessarily mean new high-blow philosophies and cutting-edge theologies. By this time many of the Greek sophists had become, in William Barclay's colorful language, "a man with a clever mind and cunning tongue, a mental acrobat, a man who with littering and persuasive rhetoric could make the worse appear the better reason." This was popular entertainment. We are told that when a particularly famous sophist's appearance would be announced, the senate would empty and even people attending gladiatorial games in the coliseum would leave their seats to hear him speak.

Listen to a description of some of them in Corinth from John Chrysostom: He says you would hear these individuals, "shouting and abusing each other, and their disciples, as they call them, squabbling; and many writers of books reading their stupid compositions, and many poets singing their poems, and many jugglers exhibiting their marvels and many sooth-sayers giving meaning of prodigies ... and no small number of traders driving their several trades." So these were, perhaps, part pointy-headed college professors, but mostly popular entertainers on a par with daytime television.

And it was into this kind of environment Paul had entered in Athens when he stood up on the Areopagus. You remember the story. He started out, "Athenians, I see how extremely religious you are in every way. For as I went through the city and looked carefully at the objects of your worship, I found among them an altar with the inscription, ‘To an unknown god.' What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you" (Acts 17:22b-23). He even quoted from one of their ancient philosophers. Paul was here building an apologetic bridge, using elements of the culture and religion with which they were familiar and comfortable to proclaim the gospel. This passage is often cited as a prime example of effectively enculturating the gospel. But there are two glitches: First, the strategy was not entirely effective. Acts tells us, "When they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some scoffed; but others said, ‘We will hear you again about this.' At that point Paul left them. But some of them joined him and became believers ..." (Acts 17:32-34a).

This is not the kind of overwhelming response Paul enjoyed in other places, and through the centuries it has often been observed that there was no Christian congregation in Athens for a long time. Second, the "apologetic bridge" always carries traffic both ways. It is tempting to find touchpoints in the culture that can be used to convey Christian truths, but sometimes those same touchpoints can allow cultural beliefs and patterns to creep back into the faith. Paul was certainly aware of these issues in Corinth, as we read later in the letters with Christians feeling comfortable about eating food that had been offered to idols, for instance, or adopting sexual practices that may have been culturally acceptable but were incompatible with the gospel. So the wisdom Paul talks about may not be exactly the academic style of wisdom that first comes to our minds.

How about the "signs" Paul said the Jews wanted? The Jewish people, many of them at least, were hoping that the same God who had saved them in the past would do it again. There had been that hope when the Maccabbees led their revolt 160 years before the birth of Jesus, and the two centuries before and after his birth are often thought of as a kind of golden age of messianic pretenders. People were really looking expectantly for something. We read how in 45 AD a man named Theudas promised that if people followed him to the Jordan River at his word the waters would divide and they would walk across on dry land. Thousands followed him to disappointment. Less than a decade later, an Egyptian claiming to be a prophet persuaded 30,000 to accompany him to the Mount of Olives with the expectation that at his word the walls of Jerusalem would collapse! These were certainly fervent expectations. But as far as we know, none of the common Jewish expectations included looking for a messianic figure that would come as a suffering servant to die on the cross.

As Paul weaves his way through some thoughts, he is clearly teaching an important lesson, one that is applicable to Jew and Gentile alike. But it is not, it seems to me, that intellectual pursuit is somehow evil, nor is it an endorsement of anti-Semitism. And, while we tend to chop Paul's epistles into bite-sized bits for reading and preaching, we need to remember that the whole beginning of this letter addresses the issue of factionalism and one-upsmanship in this particular congregation. In addressing the Gentiles' proclivity to look for messages that were stimulating and entertaining and the Jews' seeking a kind of Davidic restoration, Paul is warning this fledgling community against allowing cultural and religious expectations to overwhelm the basic, straightforward message of how God had been at work in Jesus Christ. Because it was precisely these kinds of expectations that allowed or even encouraged factionalism, as the community sub-divided itself according to aspects of presentation that seemed more appealing.

We can pretty well reconstruct what this simple message was from the great sermons recorded in the book of Acts. It went like this:

  • The divinely approved nature of Jesus' ministry was established by his mighty works, which included his authoritative preaching as well as his miracles. His authority, in other words, was self-evident to those who were willing to objectively listen to and observe him (Acts 2:22; 10:38).
  • The climax of Jesus' mission was the Jews' unwitting fulfillment of prophecy through the crucifixion (Acts 2:23; 2:36; 3:13-15, 18; 4:10; 5:30; 10:39; 13:27-29) and the crowning vindication of Jesus was the resurrection (Acts 2:32; 3:15; 4:10; 5:30; 10:40; 13:30).
  • Jesus' ministry continues unhindered through the Holy Spirit (Acts 5:3; 10:42-43).
  • God has provided for the Gentiles' salvation (Acts 10:47; 11:15; 15:7-11; 22:21) and all should repent and accept salvation through the name of Jesus who will one day judge the world (Acts 2:38-39; 3:19-21; 4:11-12; 10:34, 42; 17:30-31).

With this simple outline in mind, Paul's remarks to the Corinthians and particularly his summary statement in verse 25 make absolute sense: "For God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God's weakness is stronger than human strength." This straightforward statement of how God has chosen to make God's self known in the world may not be as entertaining or convoluted as the flashy arguments of the sophists, but this foolishness is full of far more truth than what passes for human wisdom. Furthermore, the apparent victory of evil over good as Jesus the suffering servant was killed at Calvary ("God's weakness") is actually of far more value than the apparent strength of the all-too-frequent messianic pretenders of the day. The cultural and religious expectations of the day — the "common sense" way of seeing things — turned out to be wrong.

Now the uncomfortable thing we all have to meditate about is how we do what the Jews and Greeks were doing. Are there expectations about what the gospel should be and say and teach that simply overwhelm the simplicity of the apostolic message? Bethany Adler, a Houghton College student, recently wrote this as part of an assignment:

There is a common sentiment among the average American church-goer that theology and doctrine are for the scholars and unless they have a direct application to real life, they would rather not hear it. On any given Sunday around the country it is probable that someone is hearing another "How to ..." sermon or a "Five steps to better____" sermon. If a sermon is full of theological content, the congregation will want to hear a discourse on how this applies to your life. There is a common sentiment among the average American church-goer that theology and doctrine are for the scholars and unless they have a direct application to real life, they would rather not hear it. On any given Sunday around the country it is probable that someone is hearing another Howto... sermon or a Fivestepstobetter____ sermon. If a sermon is full of theological content, the congregation will want to hear a discourse on how this applies to your life.

Is she correct? Have we created a new kind of "wisdom" of practicality and a different kind of "sign" of instant gratification that impairs our ability to deal with the intensely theological "word of the cross"?

After all this meandering around, it looks like Paul is going to finally get to his main point, so perhaps there is hope for me getting to mine. This passage (1 Corinthians 1:26-31) has often been read as Paul putting the Corinthians in their place and reminding them that they are not so much after all, but when you just read the words, that doesn't seem to be what is really there. What he says is that "not many" of the Corinthians Christians were wise by human standards, powerful, or of noble birth. Obviously "not many" implies that some were. And this is in accord with what we know of the very early Christian community from scripture and other early accounts. Luke speaks of the women of means who followed Jesus and supported him. Sergius Paulus, the proconsul of Crete (Acts 13:6-12), Erastus, the city treasurer mentioned in Romans 16, although he may well have been from Corinth, and various women of means mentioned at Thessalonica and Berea, all remind us that the first Christians came from across the social spectrum (a fact underscored by the class division disrupting the celebration of communion described in 1 Corinthians 11).

Various people of noble birth, notably Flavius Clemens, cousin of the emperor Domitian, were martyred because of their faith in Christ. Toward the end of the second century, Pliny, governor of Bithynia, wrote a famous letter to the emperor, saying that Christians came from every level of society. (Assuming, by the way, that that was an abnormally bad thing.)

The very makeup of the Christian community, cutting as it did across class lines in a stratified society and breaking down the Jewish/Gentile barrier was itself, not what you would expect. The very "body-ness" of the church points us away from all human expectations and conventions and toward God "who is the source of your life in Christ Jesus" (v. 30). So the "Wisdom of the World" that Paul warns against may not be some high-blown academic philosophy after all, but rather the "way things are," in the words of Margaret Mitchell, "The values and norms which divide persons of higher and lower status into separate groups, a wisdom which prefers dissension to unity, superiority to cooperation."1 And if that is the case, then we are all in a lot of trouble, because that begins to sound very similar to the fractured church with which we are all too familiar.

God created us all. Jesus Christ came to die for all. The early church had a powerful witness and a powerful attraction because it included if not "all," a much closer approximation than any other group. They were not perfect. They broke into factions. They revered certain leaders, almost like fan clubs. Most dangerously, perhaps, they were allowing their fellowship to be invaded by "the way things are": patterns of thought and entertainment, cultural and religious expectations, even mirroring the social stratification of the larger society. This may have been how things were, but Paul reminds them and us it is not how it is meant to be. God has shown us that in God's seemingly foolish action in Jesus Christ. The question for us is how much we in our lives, in our church, in our community reflect how things should be and how much we reflect "the way things are." Amen.


1. Margaret Mitchell, Paul and the Rhetoric of Reconciliation (Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox, 1991), p. 211

CSS Publishing, Inc., Sermons for Sundays in Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany: With Our Own Eyes, by John N. Brittain