A More Excellent Way

Psalm 103:8-14    1 Corinthians 12:1–11    1 Corinthians 12:12-31     1 Corinthians 13:1-13

A More Excellent Way

There is a question that runs beneath much of Paul's correspondence with the Corinthians and that is: What does it actually mean to be a spiritually mature believer?

It is an important question because the Corinthians seemed to have developed a rather distorted understanding of spirituality. Some appeared to have measured their spiritual standing by the gifts they possessed, the knowledge they had acquired, the eloquence with which they spoke, and the recognition they received from others. Certain gifts had become markers of status, and those who possessed them had begun to regard themselves as more important than those who did not.

But this was not simply a disagreement about spiritual gifts. It was symptomatic of something much deeper…it was symptomatic of a failure to understand the very nature of the Church and what it means to belong to Jesus Christ.

We have already encountered this problem in Paul's discussion of the Lord's Supper. Those who had more were behaving as though they were more important, while those who had little were being humiliated and neglected. The very meal intended to proclaim the self-giving love of Jesus had become an occasion for division and selfishness.

Now Paul turns his attention to spiritual gifts, but his concern remains essentially the same. The question is not how impressive our gifts are, but how we use them. The question is not who is the most spiritual, but whether our lives demonstrate the character of the Spirit who dwells within us…of the Saviour who humbly gave up everything in his bid to save us…of the God who reveals himself as the God of love and mercy and grace.

But as Paul develops his argument, he leads us towards one of the most profound passages in the New Testament. He is going to show the Corinthians, and us, that there is something infinitely more important than any spiritual gift, however remarkable it might be. There is, as he puts it, a more excellent way.

Paul begins by addressing those who consider themselves spiritual. The Greek word pneumatikos can refer either to spiritual people or spiritual things, but in the context of this letter, Paul seems particularly concerned with those who regard themselves as spiritually superior.

He reminds them of their former lives as pagans, when they were led astray by mute idols…lifeless objects, incapable of revealing anything to those who worshipped them. But then he contrasts the lifeless idols of their previous religious lives with the Holy Spirit who animates the Church as a living community. "No one speaking in the Spirit of God ever says, 'Jesus is accursed!' and no one can say, 'Jesus is Lord' except in the Holy Spirit." (12:3, ESV) 

In other words, if true spirituality begins with an honest and true confession that Jesus is Lord, then whoever makes such a confession should be regarded as a spiritual person. That levels the playing field, so to speak. Everyone who truly confesses Jesus as Lord is spiritual…so no one can claim to be more (or less) spiritual than the other. It is the Holy Spirit who enables us to recognise, acknowledge, and submit to the lordship of Jesus. And so true spirituality is not determined by the possession of extraordinary abilities, but by our relationship with Jesus.

Paul then develops this thought by explaining that although there are different gifts, different forms of service, and different kinds of activity, they all originate in the same God. And I want you to notice the repetition: Different gifts, but the same Spirit. Different forms of service, but the same Lord. Different activities, but the same God.

Paul is deliberately removing any grounds for spiritual boasting. The Greek word diaireseis, which is sometimes translated as varieties or diversities, carries the sense of different allocations. God distributes different gifts to different people. They are not achievements to be accumulated, nor rewards for those who have attained some higher spiritual standing. They are gracious provisions of God for the interdependent building up of the whole church body.

Paul makes their purpose unmistakably clear: "To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good." (12:7) And this purpose is crucial. The gifts are not given for personal fulfilment, individual recognition, or spiritual advancement. They are given for the benefit of the whole community.

At this point, Paul offers several examples: words of wisdom and knowledge, faith, gifts of healing, works of power, prophecy, discernment of spirits, different kinds of tongues and the interpretation of tongues. 

Now, I think Paul is just giving us a few examples here rather than an exhaustive list of spiritual gifts, because the thrust of his argument is not the gifts themselves but the fact that each one is given by the same Spirit and therefore one gift is not more important than the other. All are necessary as each one contributes to the building up of the whole body. 

And so we need not settle every question concerning the precise nature of each gift to understand Paul's central argument. "All these are empowered by one and the same Spirit, who apportions to each one individually as he wills." (12:11)

In other words, the Spirit determines what is given and to whom it is given. Consequently, there is no room for pride, competition or boasting. No one can claim superiority because of a gift, because no one has given that gift to themselves. And equally, no one should feel inferior because they have not received a particular gift that someone else might have been given. God has not overlooked them but is wisely creating an interdependent community in which every member has a contribution to make.

The principle is wonderfully simple: The gifts are different, the recipients are different, but the Giver is the same. And the purpose of every gift is the same: the building up of the whole Church.

Paul now moves from the gifts themselves to the relationship between those who receive them. He introduces one of the most familiar illustrations in Scripture: the human body. "Just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in one Spirit we were all baptised into one body – Jews or Greeks, slaves or free – and all were made to drink of one Spirit." (12:12-13)

I think that here, Paul is deliberately taking us back to the Exodus imagery he has already introduced in chapter 10. Just as the Israelites were baptised into Moses in the cloud and in the sea, and all drank from the spiritual Rock, so believers have been incorporated into a new covenant community through the work of the Holy Spirit. Our backgrounds may be different. Our social standing, ethnicity, education, abilities, and experiences may be different. But the same Spirit has brought us into one body.

There is no privileged entrance into the Church. No one belongs more fully than another. We are all equally dependent upon the grace of God.

And at this point, Paul begins to dismantle the assumptions that were creating division in Corinth. In the body, the foot cannot say that because it is not a hand it does not belong to the body. The ear cannot say that because it is not an eye it has no place. Nor can the eye dismiss the hand, or the head declare that it has no need of the feet. The absurdity of such thinking is obvious. If the entire body were an eye, there would be no hearing. If the whole body were an ear, there would be no sense of smell.

In other words, the body requires diversity to function properly. And so, “as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose." (12:18)

This is not accidental diversity. It is purposeful diversity. The God who formed our individual bodies in our mothers' wombs (Psalm 139:13–14) has also arranged the members of Christ's body according to his wisdom and purpose. We are not all meant to be the same. We are not all meant to possess the same gifts, perform the same tasks or exercise the same ministries. God has deliberately made us different because we need one another.

And this leads Paul to address two opposing problems. First, there are those who feel inferior because they do not possess the gifts or abilities that others seem to value. Second, there are those who consider themselves superior because they possess gifts that others do not.

Both attitudes are wrong. The first is wrong because no member should consider themselves unnecessary. The second is wrong because no member should consider themselves indispensable. Indeed, Paul turns the argument upside down: "On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable." (12:22) And those parts we regard as less honourable we treat with greater honour. Those parts that are less presentable receive special modesty and attention.

Paul is making a profound point. The apparent importance of one part of the body is not necessarily an indication of its actual importance. Some of the most essential functions of the human body are performed by members that remain (thankfully) hidden from view.

The same is true of the Church. Not everyone stands at the front. Not everyone preaches, teaches, leads worship, or exercises a publicly recognised ministry. Some pray quietly, encourage the discouraged, visit the lonely, care for the sick, give generously, welcome strangers, and serve faithfully without ever receiving recognition. But these members are no less important. Indeed, without them the Church would be impoverished.

And here Paul returns to the problem that has been troubling him throughout this letter and that is “that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another." (12:25) 

This is what unity actually looks like. It is not simply agreeing with one another, attending the same meetings, or belonging to the same congregation. It is having such a profound sense of belonging to one another that the suffering of another becomes our suffering, and the joy of another becomes our joy. "If one member suffers,” Paul says, “all suffer together; if one member is honoured, all rejoice together." (12:26) 

Remember the poorer members of the Corinthian congregation whom we encountered in chapter 11? Some were going hungry while others ate and drank to excess. Some were being humiliated and neglected while others enjoyed their privileged position. How could they possibly claim to be one body while behaving in this way? The Jerusalem church had demonstrated a very different understanding of Christian community. They shared what they possessed so that no one was left in need (Acts 2:44–47; 4:34–35).

So, Paul is reminding the Corinthians that the Church cannot be healthy when some members are flourishing at the expense of others. We cannot claim to love Christ while neglecting those who belong to him. We cannot claim to be spiritual while remaining indifferent to the suffering of our brothers and sisters. We cannot claim to be one body while behaving as though the needs of others have nothing to do with us.

Paul concludes this section by reminding them that God has appointed different ministries within the Church: apostles, prophets, teachers, those who perform works of power, those who exercise gifts of healing, helping and guidance, and those who speak in tongues. But his questions are deliberately rhetorical. Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all perform miracles? Do all speak in tongues? Of course not! The Church is not meant to be a collection of identical people competing for the same positions. It is a community of different people, with different gifts and responsibilities, brought together by the same Spirit to serve the same Lord.

So, Paul has therefore established two important principles: no one is superior because of their gifts, and no one is inferior because of their lack of particular gifts.

But he is not finished. In fact, he is about to show them that even these wonderful gifts that have been given by the Holy Spirit that are so essential to the functioning of the Church are not the most important thing.

Now allow me to paraphrase what I think Paul is trying to say here in verse 31…this is my translation of the Greek: "But while you may earnestly desire the higher gifts, I am showing you a still more excellent way." You see, the Greek verb usually translated "I will show" is actually in the present tense: "I am showing you." So Paul is not simply promising to introduce another subject. He is drawing their attention to something that should already be governing everything they do. In fact, it is the climax of an argument that has been building throughout the letter.

If we were to ask the Corinthians (and perhaps modern-day Christians as well) which spiritual gifts they most admired, we might reasonably expect them to mention speaking in tongues, prophecy, knowledge, extraordinary faith and miraculous works. These were the gifts that seemed (and still seem) to attract attention and confer status. Paul therefore begins by taking their most highly prized gifts and placing them alongside something far more important. Even if someone could speak every human language or possess the ability to communicate in the language of angels, without love that person would amount to little more than a piece of noisy metal.

It is a striking image, particularly in a city accustomed to the noise of pagan worship and the instruments accompanying religious ceremonies. Paul is saying that impressive spiritual speech, however extraordinary, is meaningless when it is disconnected from love.

But then he continues to progressively raise the stakes. Imagine possessing extraordinary prophetic insight, understanding the deepest mysteries of God, having an almost incomprehensible knowledge and exercising a faith capable of moving mountains.

Yet, Paul says, without love, none of that amounts to anything. Indeed, Paul does not merely say that such a person has achieved little. He says that person is nothing.

This is particularly significant when we remember that some of the Corinthians, having acquired spiritual gifts, had begun to regard themselves as important. But Paul is saying that without love, all their newfound status is meaningless.

He then goes further still. Even the most extraordinary acts of generosity and self-sacrifice are of no value if they are not motivated and governed by love. This is an important corrective to the assumption that impressive religious behaviour necessarily demonstrates genuine spirituality.

A person may give everything away and still be selfish. A person may make enormous sacrifices and still be seeking personal recognition. Even the willingness to suffer or die for a cause does not, in itself, establish that the person is acting out of love. Even suffering martyrdom is not something to pursue for personal glory. Christian sacrifice must be governed by rightly ordered love.

Paul's point is unmistakable. Spiritual gifts, knowledge, faith, generosity and even extraordinary sacrifice cannot substitute for love.

But what exactly is love? Paul answers by describing it, not as an emotion or an abstract ideal, but through the actions and attitudes by which it becomes visible.

Now consider how directly this addresses the problems in Corinth. Love is patient. It does not become frustrated with the weaknesses and shortcomings of others. Love is kind. It actively seeks the welfare of others rather than exploiting their vulnerabilities. Love does not envy. It does not resent the gifts, opportunities, or recognition received by someone else. Love does not boast or become arrogant. It does not use its achievements or abilities to elevate itself above others. Love is not rude. It does not behave in ways that humiliate or dishonour another person. Love does not insist on its own way. It is prepared to surrender personal rights for the benefit of others. 

Love is not irritable or resentful. It does not continually revisit past offences or keep a record of wrongs. And finally, love does not rejoice in wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. 

In other words, the person who is filled with Christian love rejoices in behaviour that reflects the God we serve.

And now Paul concludes with four further expressions. Love bears with the weaknesses and failures of others. It never ceases to trust, even when circumstances are difficult. It never abandons hope that God can bring about transformation, and it perseveres rather than giving up.

This does not mean that love is naïve, ignores wrongdoing, or accepts everything as true. Rather, it means that love remains committed to the welfare of others, always seeking what is good and true…focusing on the positive, rather than on the negative…on what can be, rather than on what is.

But what is particularly important for us to note here is that almost everything Paul says about love is the opposite of what had been happening in Corinth. Indeed, the contrast is devastating. Paul is effectively saying that the Corinthians may possess all the spiritual gifts they desire, but unless their lives demonstrate the love of God, they have fundamentally misunderstood what it means to be spiritual.

The gifts that the Corinthians so highly prize are temporary. Prophecies will pass away. Tongues will cease. Knowledge will be forgotten. All these gifts are necessary for the present, but they belong to an age in which our understanding remains incomplete. "For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away." (13:9–10)

So, Paul is looking towards the completion of God's purposes, when we will no longer need the partial revelation and understanding that characterise our present existence and he illustrates this with the difference between childhood and adulthood.

"When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways." (13:11) Of course, there is nothing wrong with being a child. Childhood has its own proper place. But we would hardly expect an adult to remain content with the limitations of childhood.

Likewise, our present understanding of God is real, but incomplete and there are limitations of our present knowledge. We see something of God's glory, we understand something of his purposes, and we experience something of his grace, but we do not yet see everything clearly.

However, there is a day coming when that will change. We will see Jesus, face to face. We will know fully, not because we become omniscient, but because the barriers and limitations of our present existence will have been removed. And when that day comes, the spiritual gifts that we now value so highly will have served their purpose.

We will no longer need prophecy to communicate what God has revealed. We will no longer need tongues to overcome the limitations of human communication. We will no longer need partial knowledge because we will see the Lord face to face.

And yet one thing will remain for all eternity. Love will remain. Indeed, love is not simply a gift for the present age. It belongs to the very nature of God and therefore transcends the limitations of this present life.

Faith, hope, and love are the enduring characteristics of Christian existence. Faith looks towards God and trusts him. Hope looks towards the fulfilment of his promises. But love expresses the very character of God. And therefore the greatest of these is love because God himself demonstrated that love, not through the display of extraordinary power, nor through the accumulation of knowledge, nor through the exercise of authority, but through the self-giving sacrifice of his Son.

This is the love we are called to imitate. It is the love that puts others before ourselves…that refuses to exploit or humiliate…that forgives, serves, perseveres, and seeks the good of others.

So, as we draw these two chapters together, I think we need to recognise that Paul has been addressing something far more important than a disagreement about spiritual gifts. He has been challenging the very way we understand what it means to be the Church.

The gifts of the Spirit are given to build up the body, not elevate individuals above it. All our gifts, ministries, knowledge, achievements and sacrifices must be governed by love. Indeed, if we do not love one another, we have missed the very heart of the Gospel.

It is possible to be doctrinally correct but unkind. It is possible to be passionately committed to ministry but insensitive to the needs of others. It is possible to defend the truth while treating those who disagree with us without grace. It is possible to be so concerned with the success of our own ministry that we forget the people we are supposed to be serving.

None of these things are evidence of spiritual maturity. The true measure of our spirituality is whether our lives increasingly reflect the character of Jesus.

And perhaps this is where we need to examine ourselves. Are we patient with one another? Are we kind? Do we rejoice when others are recognised and honoured, or do we quietly resent their success? Do we put the needs of others before our own? Do we bear with one another's weaknesses? Do we persevere in love, even when relationships become difficult? These are not secondary questions. They go to the very heart of what it means to be a Christian community.

The greatest evidence that we truly belong to God is not the gifts we possess, but the love we demonstrate.

So let us earnestly desire the gifts of the Spirit. Let us use whatever God has entrusted to us faithfully and generously. Let us encourage one another, build one another up and recognise the value of every member of Christ's body.

But above all, let us pursue the more excellent way. The Church becomes most spiritually compelling not when it displays how gifted it is, but when it demonstrates how deeply it loves.

Shall we pray?

© Johannes W H van der Bijl 2026

One Bread, One Body: Rediscovering the Lord’s Supper in 1 Corinthians 11:17–34

Psalm 133                           Acts 2:42-47                 1 Corinthians 11:17–34 (ESV)

One Bread, One Body: Rediscovering the Lord’s Supper in 1 Corinthians 11:17–34

There are few passages in the New Testament that have generated as much discussion as Paul’s teaching about the Lord’s Supper in 1 Corinthians 11. Through the centuries, Christians have raised important questions about Christ’s presence in the elements, the nature of the self-examination demanded, as well as the nature of the judgement mentioned. 

But before addressing these questions, we must ask what was happening when the Corinthians gathered. Paul’s assessment in 1 Corinthians 11:17 is devastating: their meetings were doing more harm than good. A meal proclaiming reconciliation had become an occasion for division. The community that confessed that they all belonged to the one body of Jesus were treating each other according to the divisions of their surrounding society. How on earth did this happen? We must assume that a) Paul had taught them the fundamental principles of what it means to be a church and that b) something had radically changed since he had left. 

But to understand Corinth we need to begin with Jerusalem. In Acts 2:42–47, Luke gives us a remarkable portrait of the earliest Christian community following Pentecost. He tells us that the believers devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, the fellowship, the breaking of bread, and the prayers. These practices express one shared life, shaped by Jesus’ death and resurrection and empowered by the Holy Spirit. Their worship and eating together belonged to the same pattern of Christian fellowship…in other words, their fellowship was not merely a feeling of affection but rather an active participation in a community.

That shared life had material consequences. Believers sold possessions and distributed the proceeds according to need. Acts 4:32–35 develops the picture: their unity meant that the needs of some became the concern of all. Now, it is important to note that this was voluntary, Spirit-generated generosity, not a compulsory surrender of property; Acts 5:4 makes that distinction clear. Nevertheless, their possessions remained resources through which they could serve one another, rather than an abundance to hoard and enjoy without regard for others.

Why am I telling you all this? Well, because I believe Acts 2:42-47 can serve as a paradigm for understanding Paul’s concern in Corinth as it offers a programmatic picture of what the early Christian Community in Jerusalem looked like. Of course, Jerusalem was not flawless. Acts 6 records the neglect of Hellenistic widows. Nevertheless, Luke gives us a pattern against which failures of fellowship can be recognised: teaching, worship, shared meals and generosity all belong together. That pattern helps us see what went wrong in Corinth.

Now, as I’m sure you all know, Early Christians commonly gathered in homes, as numerous verses in the Book of Acts as well as Romans 16:5 and 1 Corinthians 16:19 indicate. Houses and hosts differed in their space and resources, making differences in wealth and status readily visible. In the surrounding society, meals could reinforce those distinctions through the food provided and the treatment of guests. And yet, while Christian fellowship should have challenged that logic, the Corinthian house churches were reproducing it.

In 1 Corinthians 11:18–21, Paul describes divisions within their gathering. Each goes ahead with a personal meal: some remain hungry while others drink to excess. They assemble in one place without acting as one community. Paul’s conclusion is startling: what they are eating cannot truly be called the Lord’s Supper because their conduct contradicts the meaning of the meal.

Verse 22 identifies the offence: they despise God’s church and humiliate those who have nothing. This is more than poor manners or an imperfect ceremony. People lacking basic necessities find their deprivation exposed in the community where they should receive dignity and care. Correct words and familiar ceremonies cannot make worship faithful when participants disregard one another.

Now, to appreciate the possible consequences of this behaviour, we must consider the economic circumstances of Corinth at the time. Archaeological and epigraphic evidence concerning drought, food sources, and economic hardship, including the evidence associated with the grain supplier, Claudius Dinippus, who served several times during the period in which Paul was writing, provides us with a possible historical context for understanding the vulnerability of urban food supplies. 

This background may help explain the seriousness of the hunger of the less fortunate in Corinth. Ancient urban households depended on agricultural supply and trade, and disruptions affected those with few resources most severely. Of course, this context does not prove that a particular shortage lay behind Paul’s rebuke or establish the cause of the illnesses he later mentions, but it does remind us that food insecurity was a real vulnerability, not simply an inconvenience.

For example, consider a day labourer, dependent on finding and maintaining a position to receive wages on a day-to-day basis. If there was a drought, there would be no work. If there was no work, there would be no income. And if there was no income, obtaining food could become impossible. So, while a wealthy household might have reserves, the labourer would have none. 

Translate all this into what was possibly happening in the church, and you are faced with a situation where some members ate abundantly while others remained hungry. As such, the church exposed rather than relieved that vulnerability. In Jerusalem, resources answered need. In Corinth, abundance was enjoyed while need was ignored.

This is why Paul recalls the institution of the Lord’s Supper in verses 23–26. On the night of his betrayal, Jesus gave thanks, broke bread and identified it with his body given for them. The cup signified the new covenant in his blood. Whenever the church shares this bread and cup, it proclaims the Lord’s death until he comes. In other words, the meal receives its meaning from his self-giving.

Now, I do think the language of remembrance also deserves attention. In this sense, remembrance is more than private recollection of a past event. The gathered community remembers the saving act on which its identity rests. As Passover recalled Israel’s deliverance from Egypt, so this meal centres the church on Jesus’ death. Remembering him means recognising both what he has done for us as well as the shared life his sacrifice has created. It gives successive generations a shared identity rooted in God’s saving action through the death of Jesus.

But Jesus’ death means more than the simple termination of his life on the cross. It means that he did not preserve his own privileges at our expense. He gave himself for us…he gave us everything…he withheld nothing. 

The institution narrative therefore grounds Paul’s rebuke. Jesus gave himself for others, yet the Corinthians refused to share their food. They celebrated his immeasurable generosity while practising neglect. But Paul’s point is that those who receive his grace cannot treat fellow recipients as unworthy of dignity. The conduct of the gathered church must be consistent with the self-giving love its meal proclaims.

We now reach the interpretative centre of the passage. In verses 27–29, Paul warns that eating and drinking in an unworthy manner brings guilt concerning the Lord’s body and blood. So, he calls for self-examination and warns against eating without discerning the body. But what does “discerning the body” mean? Our answer must take seriously both the bread and cup, as well as the behaviour Paul has condemned.

Obviously, Christian traditions differ over this warning. Some emphasise recognising Christ’s presence in the bread and wine while others emphasise recognising the church as his body. My own personal reading is that the immediate context strongly supports a communal dimension: the Corinthians must recognise the gathered church as Christ’s body and treat its members accordingly. Paul’s use of “body” elsewhere in this letter supports that interpretation.

For instance, in 1 Corinthians 10:16–17, Paul links participation in Christ’s body and blood with the unity of those sharing the bread in a double metaphor. The many are one body because they partake of one bread, because participation is not an isolated individual experience: belonging to Christ binds the participants to one another. The meaning of the meal and the identity of the community cannot be separated.

The chapter 12:12–27 develops this further. The church is one body with many members, and those who appear weaker are indispensable. Verses 25–26 call for mutual care rather than division: when one member suffers, all suffer together. But in chapter 11, the Corinthians do the exact opposite. They humiliate vulnerable members and ignore their hunger. The shared bread expresses a unity that their conduct denies. They eat the one bread, yet they fail to behave as one body. They proclaim the death of Jesus, yet they disregard the needs of those for whom he died. They receive the signs of fellowship while denying the reality of fellowship.

I therefore understand discerning the body to include recognising the community created through Jesus’ death. The vulnerable believer beside us is not an outsider, a social inferior or an inconvenient reminder of hardship. That person belongs to Christ’s body and deserves dignity and care. The question is not only whether we understand what the bread signifies, but whether we recognise the people with whom we share it. To fail to discern the body as a unity created by every members inclusion through the death of Jesus is to fail to recognise the church for what it is.

This also explains why an offence against fellow believers concerns the Lord’s body and blood. Our relationship with Jesus cannot be detached from our treatment of those who belong to him. Sacramental and communal meanings need not compete: the significance of the bread and the cup makes the participants’ conduct so important. Self-examination must reckon with the division and the neglect Paul actually describes.

But Paul’s warning becomes more serious in verses 30–32. Here he connects their conduct with weakness, illness and deaths among them. Now, one possible historical reconstruction that is consistent with what we know about the situation in Corinth at the time,  is that the poorer members were suffering from inadequate nourishment and the consequences of food insecurity, while those with greater resources enjoyed abundance. In an ancient city, malnutrition, or eating contaminated or rotting food picked up off the streets or from garbage heaps, and preventable illnesses could have devastating consequences, particularly for people without the resources to protect themselves. This reconstruction fits the divisions Paul described. It also helps explain why his instructions focus on sharing the meal and waiting for one another. 

Now there is an illuminating parallel in an early Christian document called the Shepherd of Hermes. In Similitude 3:9 the author warns against enjoying God’s gifts selfishly while others lack what they need. He describes those who overindulge as harming themselves through gluttony, while those with insufficient food waste away from inadequate nourishment. Now, while this doesn’t prove that this is what Paul meant in his letter to the Corinthians, it does demonstrate that early Christian moral reflection could connect the selfish consumption of abundance with bodily harm and neglect of those in need. 

Now, verse 32 adds a crucial distinction: the Lord’s judgement disciplines them so that they will not be condemned with the world. This discipline is corrective, calling the church to repentance rather than leaving it in despair. The community must not dismiss its divisions as trivial and so Paul’s warning leads directly to instructions for changing its shared life.

In verses 33–34, Paul tells them to wait for one another when they gather to eat so that they might learn to eat as a community. Now, the meaning of “eat at home” and the precise arrangements remain disputed. It has often been interpreted as a command for wealthier members to eat their private meals in their private homes before attending the communion meal. But that reading sits uneasily with Paul’s repeated condemnation of the existing divisions and his insistence that the Corinthians should wait for one another.

So, I favour understanding this command in relation to the sharing of meals equally at the house-church gathering, rather than as permission to preserve private, unequal meals. Behind Paul’s instructions to the Corinthians lies the foundational image of the communal spirit of the first church in Jerusalem. Indeed, “…if (Paul) so vehemently objects to the community’s divisive eating habits…and so boldly pronounced judgement upon them…why would he temper his rebuke by sanctioning the church’s wealthier members’ eating (and drinking) at home?” (Henderson, If Anyone Hungers…’: An Integrated Reading of 1 Cor 11:17–34). It doesn’t make sense, does it?

But whatever view we take, disputed details must not obscure Paul’s demand that the church must change how it eats the Lord’s Supper together. There is little point in celebrating a meal that proclaims unity while maintaining practices that destroy unity, so the remedy is the restoration of the integrity of the community. The church must learn to see one another differently and arrange their common life accordingly. 

The contrast with Jerusalem now comes into focus. There, shared worship expressed itself in care for those in need. In Corinth, a meal not shared exposed neglect. The Corinthians had not merely forgotten how to conduct a ceremony; they had forgotten what it meant to belong to one another in Jesus. Social distinctions had displaced the fellowship their Lord’s death had created.

Paul’s words therefore ask us several searching questions. Do we recognise the person beside us as a member of the same body? Do our resources serve those who lack them? Do differences in wealth, education, social influence or background determine how we treat fellow believers? Or do we allow our own personal values to shape our common life as the body of Jesus?

Our participation at the Lord’s table cannot be separated from our answers. We cannot proclaim the self-giving love of Jesus while remaining indifferent to the needs of those for whom he gave himself. We cannot celebrate the one bread while refusing to acknowledge that we are one body. And we certainly cannot claim to discern the body of Christ if we fail to recognise the dignity and needs of its members. 

This does not require everyone to possess the same amount of money or imply that every material difference is inherently unjust, but Paul refuses to let those differences and distinctions excuse humiliation or neglect. The practical test is whether abundance becomes a means of service or a reason to ignore others. We cannot proclaim Jesus’ self-giving love while remaining indifferent to fellow members of his body.

The Lord’s Supper brings us back to the cross: his body given, his blood shed, his death proclaimed until he comes. It also reminds us of all whom he has gathered around his table. We are not unrelated individuals sharing a ceremony, but a people reconciled to God through Jesus and called to live as members of one another.

Let us therefore come with gratitude for his grace, humility about our own needs, and a willingness to recognise and serve one another. Let Jerusalem’s generosity instruct us and Paul’s warning to Corinth search us. May our celebration express, rather than contradict, the love of the Lord who gave himself for us all.

For there is one bread, and we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread.

Shall we pray?

© Johannes W H van der Bijl 2006

Honour, Identity, and Worship

Genesis 1:26–27; 2:18–25      1 Corinthians 11:2–16       1 Timothy 2:9–10         1 Peter 3:3–4

Honour, Identity and Worship

In my last sermon on 1 Corinthians, we considered Paul’s challenge to imitate him as he imitated Jesus and we concluded that the goal of the Christian life is not merely to behave better, but to become more like our Lord. When an ordinary church, made up of ordinary believers, learns to lay aside pride, surrender its rights, bear with one another in love, and gather around the one Bread as one Body, it begins to resemble Jesus. There is no greater revival than that.

But how do we put this into practice? Well, Paul’s letters repeatedly move from the great truths of the Gospel to the practical realities of everyday life and here in 1 Corinthians 11:2–16, he considers how men and women honour God and one another when they pray and prophesy in the gathered church.

Now we know that the Corinthian church was a diverse community. Romans, Greeks and Jews, freemen, slaves, and day labourers, all lived alongside one another. Some believers were wealthy, others poor; some had Jewish backgrounds, while others had worshipped the gods of the Greco-Roman world. In other words, their customs and expectations were not identical and therefore Paul was teaching these believers how to worship together as one body in Christ.

He begins generously: “I praise you because you remember me in everything and maintain the traditions even as I delivered them to you” (11:2, ESV).

Now, Paul recognises what they have received, but he also remembers that a tradition is not always the same as understanding its purpose. So, the question is not whether they are following traditions, but how their conduct in worship reflects their identity in Christ and affects the whole congregation.

But before we proceed, I must tell you that this passage contains some of Paul’s most difficult expressions…difficult to translate and therefore difficult to interpret…but if we rush past or ignore those difficulties, we may make him say more, or less, than he intended. Now, two issues are especially important: what Paul means by the word “head”, and what he means by the phrase “down from the head”.

So, let’s begin with the word translated as “head” first. Paul writes in verse 3: “But I want you to understand that the head of every man is Christ, the head of a wife is her husband, and the head of Christ is God.”

Now, it is tempting to read this as a simple chain of authority: God over Christ, Christ over man, and man over woman. But before drawing that conclusion, we must ask what the Greek word kephalē, “head”, means in this context.

In English, we call someone the head of a department when that person is in charge; we may also speak of the head or source of a river. A metaphor’s meaning depends on its context. But we cannot assume that every meaning associated with the English word is automatically present in the Greek word.

Scholars have therefore debated whether Paul’s metaphor emphasises authority, source or origin, relationship, or some combination of these ideas. So, the debate cannot be settled simply by consulting a dictionary. We need to examine Paul’s argument as a whole.

In this passage, Paul is addressing a practical question about worship, not setting out an abstract theory of authority. Besides that, we must read all three relationships in verse 3 consistently. What I mean is that we cannot use “head” to mean one thing when speaking of God and Christ, but then assume it proves something quite different when speaking of husbands and wives.

This is where the Council of Nicaea, in AD 325, provides an important theological boundary as to the interpretation of the word “head” when used of the Son’s relationship with the Father. In response to the claim by some that the Son was a created being and therefore inferior to the Father, the Council confessed Jesus Christ as “begotten, not made” and “of one substance with the Father”.

In other words, the Son is not a lesser deity or a creature lower on a ladder of divine existence. He is truly God. Now, of course, Nicaea was not settling a question about marriage, and we must not claim that it was. But its confession reminds us that the Son’s willing obedience in accomplishing our salvation does not make him less divine than the Father. The persons of the Trinity are distinct, but they share the one divine nature. So, in this case, head does not mean that God is superior to Jesus as they are equal.

Now, does that settle every question about responsibility within marriage? No. Christians who affirm the equal dignity of men and women differ over how gender distinctions and marital responsibilities should be understood.

But my point is that verse 3 cannot, by itself, bear the weight of an entire doctrine of male authority. We cannot make the word kephalē prove a hierarchy of worth, nature or stature that the passage has not established.

Then, in verses 4–6, Paul speaks of a man or woman praying or prophesying in a way that dishonours their “head”. The traditional interpretation is that Paul is speaking about a cloth covering or a veil: a man should not cover his head during prayer, while a woman should.

That interpretation deserves serious consideration. Some men in Roman religious settings did cover their heads during ritual acts, and the Greek wording can refer to a material covering. So, we should not dismiss the traditional reading as linguistically impossible.

However, the expression in verse 4, kata kephalēs echōn, is literally translated as “down from the head” or “having [something] down from the head”. But as Paul does not explicitly name the object, translators and interpreters must infer what he means from the context.

Is he speaking of a cloth covering? Or is he speaking of hair arranged in a particular style? Or the appearance of the head more generally? The wording alone does not settle the question.

Personally, I have come to favour the view that Paul is speaking primarily about appropriately styled hair as a visible marker of gender distinction and marital status. This reading takes seriously his reference in verse 15 to a woman’s hair being given to her as a covering.

Yet we must be fair: many scholars understand Paul to distinguish between a woman’s natural hair and an additional cloth covering. The comparison between being uncovered and being shorn in verses 5–6 gives that interpretation genuine force.

So I do not want to pretend that the translation question has been definitively solved. My own hair-based interpretation is a considered reading of the passage, not a literal translation of every Greek expression.

But you may be wondering why appearance would matter so much?

Well, because in the ancient world, as in ours, appearance could communicate social information. For instance today, a wedding ring may indicate marital status; a uniform can identify someone’s occupation; clothing may signal belonging, occasion, or social position. But these conventions are not universal. The same garment or hairstyle can communicate different things in different societies.

When Louise and I served in north-western Namibia, we learnt that among the Himba, hairstyles and clothing could communicate a person’s stage of life and marital status. These were not merely matters of fashion; they made aspects of a person’s social identity visible.

Of course, Corinth did not necessarily follow the same customs, but the example illustrates the point: appearance can carry a meaning beyond the appearance itself.

In the Greco-Roman world, hair could be associated with gender, respectability, honour and shame. Writers such as Philo of Alexandria criticised men whose elaborate hairstyles blurred conventional distinctions between masculine and feminine appearance.

Of course, this does not prove precisely what Paul meant by his phrase, but it does show that hair and appearance could carry moral and social significance.

Paul’s concern, then, need not be that a particular hair length is intrinsically holy or sinful. It may be that the way someone presents themselves communicates something about their identity, brings shame upon another person, or affects the church’s public witness.

As with us today, the congregation did not worship in a cultural vacuum. Its conduct could be observed and interpreted or misinterpreted by visitors and neighbours.

And this helps us hear the broader principle: the Gospel does not require every culture to adopt the same hairstyle or clothing, but it does require Christians to consider what their appearance and conduct communicate about God, themselves and one another.

Two other New Testament passages help clarify this concern. In 1 Timothy 2:9–10, women are instructed to dress modestly, with propriety and decency, not making elaborate hairstyles, gold, pearls or expensive clothing the focus, but adorning themselves with good works appropriate to those who profess to worship God.

Similarly, 1 Peter 3:3–4 says: “Do not let your adorning be external – the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewellery, or the clothing you wear – but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious.”

Neither passage says that women must neglect their appearance, that beauty is sinful, or that jewellery and careful hairstyling are always forbidden. The contrast is between the outward display as a means of securing status on the one hand, and the deeper beauty of a life shaped by godliness on the other.

Now, while these passages do not prove that 1 Corinthians 11 is exclusively about hair rather than veils, they do show, however, that the apostles could address hairstyles, clothing and adornment as culturally meaningful expressions of identity, modesty and status.

Having said that, we should also avoid reading later religious customs automatically back into Paul’s words. For instance, Jewish and Christian practices of head covering developed over time and varied between communities. While later traditions may preserve older practices, we cannot simply assume that a later, fully developed custom is exactly what Paul had in mind here.

We must distinguish the text’s actual command, the customs of the first-century world, and then later practices developed through interpretation.

But moving on. Verse 10 is particularly difficult to understand: “That is why a wife ought to have a symbol of authority on her head, because of the angels” (ESV).

The reason this verse is so hard to understand is because the Greek noun for “symbol” and the ordinary Greek word for “veil” do not appear in this verse. Paul says that a wife ought to have exousia (“authority”, “power” or “the right to act’) upon her head.

The ESV, like many translations, supplies the words “a symbol of” to make sense of the sentence. But that is an interpretative decision, not a word-for-word rendering.

The traditional interpretation is that a covering signifies the husband’s authority over his wife. That has a long history, but we should acknowledge that the phrase “a sign of authority over her” is not what the Greek explicitly says.

If exousia is understood in its ordinary sense, which I tend to favour, Paul may instead be speaking of the woman’s own authority or her own right to participate in worship in a manner that honours God and the community.

But this interpretation is not certain either. The precise connection between authority and the woman’s appearance remains disputed. But we can safely assume that something about her head indicates that she has some form of authority that others can recognise simply by looking at her. 

Now, the reference to “angels” is also puzzling. Some understand Paul to mean heavenly beings present in worship, while others suggest human messengers or itinerant preachers, since the word “angeloi” does refer to human messengers elsewhere in the New Testament.

The latter meaning would fit the concern for the church’s reputation among other congregations, but it remains a proposal, not a certainty.

Whatever Paul means by “the angels”, one thing is clear: he assumes that women pray and prophesy in the assembly. He does not regard their participation as inherently improper. His concern is how that participation is expressed and understood.

We should therefore be cautious about translating “authority on her head” as though Paul explicitly wrote “a symbol of her subordination to her husband”. That may be a plausible interpretation, but it should not be mistaken for the only possible meaning of the Greek.

Paul next appeals to the creation narratives.

In verses 7–9 he writes that man is “the image and glory of God” while woman is “the glory of man”, and he refers to the fact that woman came from man and was created for man.

These words can sound as though Paul is assigning women a secondary place in creation, and we should not evade that difficulty. But neither should we stop reading before we understand the rest of his argument in its totality.

Genesis 1:26–27 declares that God created humankind in his image: “male and female he created them”.

So, both woman and man bear God’s image.

Genesis 2 expands on Genesis 1 and tells us that initially the man was alone, and that God declared that this was not good. So the woman was given as the partner who corresponds to him, the one who answers his need for companionship and partnership.

Now, the Hebrew word often translated “helper” here does not imply an inferior assistant. In fact, the word “ezer” is frequently used of God as the helper of his people. So, the woman is not a lesser human being; she is the corresponding partner without whom the man’s life would be incomplete.

However, while Paul does refer to the sequence of creation (woman came from man), he does not stop there.

Verses 11–12 begin with a crucial word: “Nevertheless”.

Paul writes: “Nevertheless, in the Lord woman is not independent of man nor man of woman; for as woman was made from man, so man is now born of woman. And all things are from God.”

That “nevertheless” prevents us from turning the creation story into a claim that men possess inherent superiority over women.

The first woman came from man, but every subsequent man comes into the world through a woman. So, neither sex can claim self-sufficiency. Both owe their existence to God, and both depend upon one another.

So, we need to read verses 7–9 alongside verses 11–12. To preach the first without the second is to preach only half of Paul’s argument.

While Paul sees distinction between men and women as meaningful, appealing to the creation narrative, he also insists upon mutual dependence and the sovereignty of God. Difference does not mean independence; distinction does not mean superiority in human worth.

This is important because we can take a genuine theological principle and bind it too tightly to a particular cultural expression of that principle.

Paul’s appeal to creation should not be dismissed as a passing cultural opinion. But neither does it follow that every outward convention by which the Corinthians expressed gender distinction and marital status is a permanent command for every Christian community.

Now, in verses 13–15, Paul asks the Corinthians to judge for themselves whether it is proper for a woman to pray to God uncovered. He then appeals to “nature”: “Does not nature itself teach you that if a man wears long hair it is a disgrace for him, but if a woman has long hair, it is her glory?” (vv. 14–15, ESV).

At first glance, this might seem to settle the matter: perhaps God commands men to have short hair and women to have long hair. But the Greek word “komao” does not necessarily mean “long hair”…it can imply flowing, curled, or painstakingly groomed and styled hair rather than simple length…and, while the word translated “nature” can refer to the created order, it can also describe what is regarded as natural, customary, or fitting within a particular social world.

And these meanings may overlap. A society may regard its conventions as reflecting the order of creation.

Either way, Paul clearly believes that the distinctions his readers recognise matter. But that does not mean we should assume that he is making a timeless rule about a particular length or style of hair. His appeal works within a society where hair and appearance communicated gender and respectability in recognisable ways.

Verse 15 is also central to the interpretation of the covering. Paul says that a woman’s hair is given to her “instead of a covering” or “as a covering”. If Paul means that her hair itself is her covering, his argument forms a coherent discussion of hair: inappropriate appearance, the shame of being shorn, the glory of a woman’s hair, and finally the covering nature of that hair.

If he means an additional veil covering her hair, interpreters must explain how that veil relates to the natural covering of hair. The phrase does not remove every difficulty.

Personally, I believe the hair-based reading offers a coherent explanation, particularly when verse 10 is understood as speaking of the woman’s own authority rather than simply a sign or symbol of subordination. But I recognise that other Christians, including many careful interpreters, reach a different conclusion.

The 4th Century Church Father, John Chrysostom, understood Paul’s instructions to refer to women’s veiling and he treated the covering as an expression of the order between husband and wife. That interpretation became influential, and head covering was reinforced in many Christian communities.

Now, while we should not dismiss this as foolish or dishonest because these believers were seeking to understand and obey Scripture, as they lived out their witness in societies different from ours, nevertheless, we must understand that interpretation is never entirely untouched by the assumptions of the interpreter’s own time. In societies where husbands were assumed to possess general authority over wives, it was and still is natural for readers to hear verse 10 as requiring women to display that authority through a covering.

And once a reading or interpretation becomes familiar, we can forget that it is a reading at all. We may assume that the translation simply says what our tradition has always taught.

But the Greek does not explicitly include the words “symbol of”, nor does it say in so many words, “a sign that she is under her husband’s authority”.

And this reality should make us humble, not cynical. It does not prove that every traditional interpretation is wrong, any more than the antiquity of an interpretation proves that it is right.

Our task today, as responsible interpreters of Scripture, is to return to Paul’s complete argument: to read verse 3 in the light of the Christian confession of Christ’s full divinity; to read verses 7–9 alongside verses 11–12; to take the wording of verse 10 seriously; and to consider the cultural meaning of hair and clothing without confusing every Corinthian convention with a universal command.

So, what does this mean for us? What was Paul asking of the Corinthians, and what is he asking of us today?

Well, I think we may safely conclude that he is addressing the conduct of men and women as they pray and prophesy in the gathered church. Their appearance matters because it communicates something about their identity, their relationships, and their regard for the worshipping community.

Paul appeals to creation because he believes the distinction between men and women belongs to God’s created order. He appeals to honour and shame because outward appearance carried public meaning in Corinth. And then he appeals to nature because the conventions familiar to his readers reinforced the distinction he was describing.

Yet he also insists that men and women are mutually dependent, and that everything comes from God.

So, three enduring principles emerge.

First, our worship should honour God.

We do not gather to draw attention to ourselves, advertise our social standing, or compete for recognition. Our conduct should direct attention towards God rather than our own vanity.

Second, we should honour one another.

Paul’s concern about shame is not permission to humiliate people whose appearance differs from ours. It reminds us that we belong to one another. We should consider how our behaviour affects others and whether it builds up or damages the fellowship of the church.

Third, we must distinguish the truth of God from the cultural forms through which it is expressed.

We should not assume that every convention in our own society is a divine command; nor should we dismiss every inherited practice simply because it is old. We must ask what Scripture teaches, what a practice communicated in its original setting, and how the enduring principle can be expressed faithfully in our own setting.

And this calls for discernment and humility. The difficulties in this passage are real, and Christians who take Scripture seriously have reached different conclusions about them. We should not pretend that a difficult text is easy simply because we have inherited a familiar interpretation.

But neither should we use the difficulty as an excuse to avoid its demands.

Whatever we conclude about the precise nature of the covering, Paul wants the Corinthians to worship in a way that reflects their identity as God’s people. Our appearance, words, relationships and exercise of spiritual gifts should contribute to that end.

So let us return to Paul’s balancing words:

“Nevertheless, in the Lord woman is not independent of man nor man of woman; for as woman was made from man, so man is now born of woman. And all things are from God” (11:11–12, ESV).

“All things are from God.”

These words direct us away from the temptation to establish our own superiority and towards the God upon whom we all depend.

Men and women are not rivals competing for honour before God. Nor are they isolated individuals who owe nothing to one another. They are God’s creatures, made to live in relationship with him and with one another.

Paul’s appeal to creation reminds us that our identity is not simply something we invent for ourselves, his insistence on mutual dependence (woman from man, man from woman) reminds us that we cannot understand that identity apart from the relationships God has given us, and his concern for honour reminds us that the way we live together matters.

So, we must resist two temptations: 

1. turning the passage into a rigid system of outward rules without understanding the purpose those rules served in Corinth; and 

2. dismissing Paul’s concern with appearance, gender distinction, and communal honour as though it had nothing to teach us today.

Neither response does justice to Scripture.

Instead, we should seek to understand Paul’s words in their historical setting, read them within the whole counsel of God, and apply their enduring principles with wisdom and grace.

The question is not simply whether we have retained a tradition, but whether we understand what it is meant to teach us.

The question is not whether one sex should be honoured at the expense of the other, but whether men and women together honour the God who created them.

And the question is not whether our worship conforms to the expectations of our age, but whether our lives and worship bear faithful witness to Jesus Christ.

For the final word belongs not to men or women, not to cultural convention, and certainly not to any system of human status.

It belongs to God.

Everything comes from him. Everything depends upon him. And everything we do in worship should be directed towards his glory.

Shall we pray?

© Johannes W H van der Bijl 2026

Jesus – our Source and our Goal: Part Two

Psalm 24                           2 Chronicles 7:13-14                         1 Corinthians 10:1–11:1                 

Jesus – our Source and our Goal: Part Two

Having journeyed through the first few chapters of 1 Corinthians, I think we can safely summarise the major concern that Paul addresses in this letter as the misguided, misdirected, misapplied, self-centred overconfidence of the Corinthian believers. In last week’s sermon, we saw how Paul reminded the Corinthians of Israel's tragedy…that although they had shared great spiritual privileges…having been divinely delivered by God despite their unbelief and their doubt…having been included in the freed status of the covenant people of God despite their lack of faith and despite their fear and anger…having been fed with miraculously provided spiritual food and drink despite their constant grumblings and arguments…all but three of the original adults that came out of Egypt died in the wilderness without inheriting the Promised Land. 

Paul’s conclusion as to what happened to the Israelites is that this is because obedience to the will of God is expected from those who are delivered by God and adopted by God into his covenant family. In fact, salvation demands obedience as obedience is the natural consequence of salvation. And this obedience is achieved through perseverance in faith…a perseverance made possible by God's unfailing faithfulness in providing a means of escape and endurance in times when we are tempted to deviate from the commandments and statutes he has given us. 

And this is extremely encouraging for us as we know that we do not always walk in step with the Spirit as we do not always obey what is written in his Word. But as John reminds us in his first epistle, while we may fail time and again, if we confess our sins, God is faithful, not only to forgive us our sins, but also to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. 

Now, in the light of this gracious provision, Paul now speaks about how obedience works in practice. "Therefore,” in other words, because of the grace given to us in our deliverance, adoption, and constant nourishment, and because of the warning provided for us illustrated through the tragedy of Israel, and because of God’s unfailing faithful provision of a means of escape and endurance, “Therefore, my beloved,” Paul says, “flee from idolatry." 

Just as an aside, I do want you to notice the tone of Paul’s address. In stark contrast to his letter to the Galatians where he calls them deserters (1:6) and foolish, bewitched people, there is a tenderness in his words to the Corinthians. He calls them his “beloved..." Indeed, even his strongest warnings throughout this letter appear to be wrapped in pastoral affection. Clearly, there was a change of temperament from the time he wrote his first letter to the time when he wrote his fourth. What caused this change we can only speculate…but while his explosive language is moderated in this letter, it is not compromising because Paul loves his fellow believers too much to allow them to continue down a dangerous road.

And what road is that? Well, it is the road of divided allegiance, because that, ultimately, is what idolatry is. It is not merely bowing before a carved image. It is allowing anything else to claim the devotion that belongs to God alone.

Now it seems that some of the Corinthian believers imagined that they could safely eat meat sacrificed to idols or even participate in pagan temple meals while remaining devoted to Jesus. Their argument was that because idols were nothing, what was offered to them hardly mattered.

And Paul agrees with half of their argument. Yes, idols are nothing. There is only one true God, so anything else called a god is not a god.

But what lies behind the idol is very real. Demonic forces have always used material things and the ideologies behind them to steal people away from the truth. The danger is never the thing or the thought itself. The danger is the divided heart.

Idols are rarely inherently bad things. They are almost always good things that we turn into ultimate things. When a good thing becomes an absolute requirement for your happiness, your heart divides its allegiance to protect it. And this divided heart often maintains the outward appearance of devotion (doing good things, saying the right things) while its functional trust rests entirely somewhere else (a bank account, a relationship, or personal control).

So ultimately, idolatry is counterfeit worship. It is the state of trying to serve two masters, leaving the heart fractured, anxious, and perpetually at war with itself.

God has always desired the undivided love of his people because an undivided love of the truth is always the best for us. That was true in the wilderness, it remained true in Corinth, and it remains true today. So we are not to even flirt with idolatry…rather, we are to flee from it.

To illustrate his point, Paul then addresses the realities behind spiritual rituals or symbols. "The cup of blessing that we bless,” he asks rhetorically, “is it not a sharing in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a sharing in the body of Christ?"

Now, for many of us these words have become so familiar that we scarcely pause to hear their wonder. Paul is not merely speaking about an ethereal remembrance. He is speaking about a very real participation that lies behind the symbols and the symbolic action. The Greek word he uses here is koinonia which means a sharing, fellowship, participation. In other words, when we gather around the Lord's Table, we proclaim that our lives are bound up, not only with the crucified, risen, and reigning Jesus, but also with all who are in him. 

This is reason why Paul immediately adds, "Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread."

That sentence lies at the very heart of chapters eight through ten. Why should the free restrain their freedom? Why should the knowledgeable limit their rights? Why should love govern liberty?

Why? Because we are not isolated entities. We are one body. One loaf. One people.

Think back once more to the Exodus. All Israel was delivered by God from slavery in Egypt together. All passed through the sea together. All were baptised into Moses together. All ate the same spiritual food together. All drank from the Rock together. Their covenant identity was never merely individual.

But Paul moves on to address that which was at the heart of the Old Testament Cultus...the sacrificial system. What the sacrificial system was to Israel, the sacraments are to the Church. Just as the sacrificial system represented the relationship that united Israel as God's covenant people under Moses, so the New Testament sacraments represent that which unites us as God's covenant people under our Lord Jesus Christ. In other words, our reconciliation to and with God in and through Jesus.

In both cases the rituals represent a participation in the very real relationship that we have with God. So to partake, however innocently, in any type of ritual that represents the dark forces of the demonic is to provoke God to a justifiable jealousy and to invite his discipline. 

Every action has a consequence and in this case the consequence is a dismantling of the unity that is ours in Jesus. Unity is received before it is achieved. We are already one because faith in Jesus makes us one. The question is whether we will choose to live like the one body we already are.

That is precisely why knowledge without love is so destructive. Knowledge separates people into categories. The informed and the uninformed. The mature and the immature. The strong and the weak. But love looks at the same body and sees something entirely different. Love sees brothers. Sisters. Members of one body. People for whom Christ died.

So, how can I insist upon my rights if doing so wounds someone whose life is joined to mine through the body of Christ? How can I say, "I am free," if the application of that freedom tears the very fabric of the family to which I belong?

So, our conduct should always be governed by the question: will what I am about to say or do glorify Jesus by serving those for whom he gave himself? 

This is why Paul repeats an apparent motto of the Corinthian church that has echoed throughout these chapters.

"All things are lawful." Yes, Paul agrees, that’s true, but not all things are beneficial. While all things may be lawful, not all things build up the body.

Note that Paul does not deny that Christians possess extraordinary freedom, but he requires that the practice of this freedom be governed by love. 

We should not strain to see how far liberty may be stretched. No, rather we should seek to limit liberty when love requires it. That is not weakness. That is Christlikeness.

Jesus certainly possessed every right and yet he emptied himself and while he deserved every honour, he voluntarily became a servant, laying down his life even for those who mocked him.

Christian maturity always looks like Jesus. That is why Paul's closing words here are so remarkable.

"So, whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God."

What a wonderfully ordinary sentence spelling out the simplest activities of daily life. Eating and drinking. In a sense, Paul has brought theology down from the heights of abstraction into the routines of every day because the Christian life is not lived only in moments of great spiritual significance. It is lived at the dinner table. In conversations. In decisions no one else may notice. In quiet acts of kindness. In choosing not to insist upon what we want for ourselves. In seeking another's good before our own. That is where the glory of God is most often displayed.

Then comes the sentence toward which Paul has been moving ever since chapter eight. "I try to please everyone in everything I do, not seeking my own advantage, but that of many, that they may be saved."

Now we need to understand Paul correctly. He is not saying he becomes a people pleaser or a doormat. He has already shown us that he is perfectly willing to offend when the truth of the gospel is at stake. No, rather Paul means that he willingly lays aside his preferences, his comforts, and even his rights whenever doing so might bring another person nearer to God.

Why? Well, because that is exactly what Jesus did for him. Jesus gave up all his rights by taking on the form of a human being, so that through his sinless death and victorious resurrection, he might save us.

And then Paul wraps it all up neatly in his final statement. "Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ." Or in other words, imitate the pattern of my life because the pattern of my life is shaped by Jesus.

Now, I wonder if y’all can remember me talking about what happened in a little barn on the Isle of Lewis…a simple action that sparked off the Hebridean revival?

For weeks those elders had prayed. But nothing happened. Week after week. Nothing. Month after month. Nothing. Until one man stopped looking beyond the walls of the barn and allowed God to search his own heart.

"Brethren," he said, "it is just so much humbug to be waiting thus, night after night, month after month, if we ourselves are not right with God."

Then he asked the question. "Is my heart pure? Are my hands clean?" He had stopped asking what was wrong with everyone else on the islands as he invited the Holy Spirit to expose what was wrong with him.

Pete Greig writes that the man lifted his head, cried aloud to God, fell to his knees, and collapsed to the floor. In that moment, the barn was overwhelmed by the presence of God. Those who later reflected on the Hebridean Revival would describe that night as the catalyst that released a movement which shook the islands.

Why, do you think, did God choose that moment? It certainly wasn’t because they prayed longer or because they prayed harder or because they finally found the right strategy.

I think it is because they had allowed the searchlight of the Holy Spirit to finally turn inward.

And I cannot help wondering if this is not exactly where Paul has been leading us. To answer the one all important question. Will I imitate Jesus? Will everything I aim for in life be governed by my desire to become more and more like him?

Dearest beloved brethren, it is remarkably easy to identify what is wrong with the Church. It is remarkably easy to point out theological errors. It is remarkably easy to criticise another Christian's conscience, another denomination's practice, another preacher's shortcomings, another generation's failures.

The Corinthians were very good at that. And unfortunately, so are we. But revival has never begun with people who were experts at diagnosing the faults of others. Revival has always begun with men and women who allowed the Holy Spirit to expose the hidden corners of their own hearts.

So perhaps before we pray, "Lord, revive your Church," we should first dare to pray, "Lord, search me. Lord, search my heart. See if there is any wickedness in me. And lead me in the way everlasting."

Before asking, "Why don't they change?" perhaps we should be asking, "What in me still needs to become more like Christ?"

Because the prize toward which Paul has been urging us to run is not really revival. It is not spiritual influence. It is not theological reputation. It is Jesus.

To know him. To love him. To imitate him. To become like him. Jesus is our source and Jesus is our goal.

And when a church filled with ordinary people begins to pursue that prize together…laying aside pride, surrendering rights, bearing with one another in love, and gathering around the one Bread as one Body…then, whether the world notices or not, something infinitely precious is taking place. We begin to resemble our Lord.

And there is no greater revival than that.

Shall we pray?

Johannes W H van der Bijl 2026

On Baptism

Genesis 8:13-19           1 Corinthians 10:1–13            Jude 8–10

On Baptism

After our short detour through the book of 1 Peter, we now return to our journey through the book of 1 Corinthians. And wouldn’t you know it; we pick up the trail again in chapter 10 which starts with some interesting comments about baptism.

So, let’s talk about baptism, shall we? What is this sacrament that has sparked off so much debate within the Christian community, what does the imagery symbolise, and where does that imagery come from?

Let’s start with the two very interesting passages we read from today, starting with 1 Corinthians. First, it is important to note that Paul considers the New Testament Church a continuation of Old Testament Israel. “For I do not want you to be unaware, brethren,” he says, “that our fathers were all under the cloud…” Now, we know that this was an ethnically mixed community and not exclusively Jewish, so by using the plural words “our fathers”, Paul is assuming that there is a continuity between Israel of the Old Testament and the Israel of God in the New Testament.

Second, we note that Paul is making a comparison between what happened with the people of Israel during the Exodus and what happened with the people of Corinth during their conversion process. “These things were examples (or patterns) for us…these things happened to them as an example (or pattern), but they were written down for our instruction…”

Third, we note that there is a progressive movement in what Paul says about what happened with the Israelites. To begin with, they were all under the cloud. From Exodus we learn that their journey began with the institution of the Passover where the angel of death passed over all the houses that were under the blood of the Passover lamb. This was the defining time of judgement on the Egyptians and of liberation for the Israelites…a separation of goats and sheep you could say.

Exodus tells us that “…the Lord went before them by day in a pillar of cloud to lead them along the way, and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light…” (Exodus 13:21–22) The Lord, the text says, was in the cloud and in the fire. But the cloud is also said to inhabit a figure usually interpreted to be the preincarnate Son of God…the Angel of the Lord who “…was going before the host of Israel…” but then when the Egyptians pursued the Israelites and cornered them at the Red Sea, he “…moved and went behind them and stood behind them, coming between the host of Egypt and the host of Israel.” (Exodus 14:19–20)

Then, we note that this group of rescued slaves “all passed through the sea…” Now we can read all about the Red Sea crossing in Exodus 14 and 15, but the relevant bit for our discussion today is found in what Paul says happened when they passed through Sea. “…all,” he says, “were baptised into Moses in the cloud (the theophany or presence of God) and in the sea (the Red Sea).

But what does Paul mean when he says they were baptised into Moses? 

Well, perhaps it would help if we looked briefly at Paul’s use of the word “in” with reference to Adam and Jesus. In 1 Corinthians 15, Paul speaks about those who are “in Adam” and those who are “in Christ”. In reference to these two “in” states he then says, “just as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we shall also bear the image of the man of heaven.” So, I think we can safely assume that the use of the word “in” or “into” refers to some form of spiritual union under whomever we are “in”.

Their passing through the sea (this would be the first time the Israelites physically leave Egyptian territory) marked a sharp break from their past. They transitioned from being enslaved people (who were culturally not considered a people) to becoming the free, covenant community of God. We could say that being enveloped by the pillar of cloud and flanked by the walls of water served as a figurative "immersion" into the community of faith under the authority or headship of Moses.

So, in terms of progression you have a divine deliverance of men, women, children, and a mixed multitude (Exodus 12:38) sealed or validated by an act that constitutes a major change in status. From slaves to a free nation.

But why “into Moses”? Well, my best explanation for the use of the name Moses in this context comes from a rather enigmatic and confusing passage in the epistle of Jude. In verse 9 Jude writes: “But when the archangel Michael, contending with the devil, was disputing about the body of Moses, he did not presume to pronounce a blasphemous judgment, but said, “The Lord rebuke you.” Now, many scholars think that Jude 1:9 intends a straightforward, literal reference to Moses' physical corpse. They link this account to early Jewish extra-canonical literature, such as the lost portions of the Assumption of Moses, which describe a tangible struggle over his physical remains or bodily translation.

But I must ask myself: why on earth would an archangel and the devil get into a tiff over a stiff? That just doesn’t make sense to me. So, to find an answer to my perplexing riddle, I went looking in Scripture for anything that looked vaguely similar to this dispute… and guess what? Well, I found this in Zechariah 3:1–2: “Then he showed me Joshua the high priest standing before the angel of the Lord, and Satan standing at his right hand to accuse him. And the Lord said to Satan, “The Lord rebuke you, O Satan! The Lord who has chosen Jerusalem rebuke you! Is not this a brand plucked from the fire?”

Now, in this context, Joshua the High Priest was the representative head of Jerusalem and consequently of the people of Israel. So, is it possible that this term “the body of Moses” is an allegorical reference to the people of Israel in the same way as “the body of Christ” is an allegorical reference to the Christian community? In fact, the Jews who stood in opposition to Jesus claimed to be “disciples of Moses” and Jesus says that they “sat in Moses’ seat”.

In other words, if my understanding is correct, then being baptised “into Moses” simply means that the freed slaves and the mixed multitude were united as a people under one leader, namely Moses. So, in this case, their baptism serves as a symbol of a new status for those who have passed through the waters. God had delivered them from slavery and then, through this imagery, he demonstrates that they are no longer under Pharaoh but under Moses.

But why baptism? Why water? What does passing through water have to do with a change of status? So, once again, I searched the Scriptures to see if this image was used elsewhere to illustrate a change in status. Prior to the Exodus there is, of course, the story of Noah and the Ark. Noah and his family, divinely saved by God through the instrument of an Ark, “pass” through water to begin a renewed creation. Most commentators down through the ages have seen a link between the flood and baptism, so there’s nothing odd about my discovery here.

But was there perhaps something earlier than the Flood that may help us understand the use of water to indicate a change of status? Well, I think there is. In Genesis 1:9 we read that “God said, ‘Let the waters under the heavens be gathered together into one place, and let the dry land appear.’ And it was so. God called the dry land Earth, and the waters that were gathered together he called Seas.” But what happened immediately after the dry land emerged from the waters? Life! For the first time since the beginning, things could live and grow on earth. Vegetation, birds, animals, and, of course, humanity.

So, I ask, is it possible that this is the origin of the imagery of baptism? It seems to symbolise the change that takes place when something emerges out of the waters. With the creation, it was life. With Noah, it was new life. Creation and re-creation. So, could it be that this is the same imagery for this baptism into Moses? Well, I think it is. They passed from one status to another. From slavery to freedom. From not a people to a people.

And this is not simply a connection I have invented by putting these stories beside one another. Some of the earliest Christian writers understood baptism in precisely this larger biblical pattern. For instance, Tertullian connected the waters of creation, the Flood and the Red Sea with Christian baptism, while Ambrose saw in them a continuing movement from creation, through the Flood, into the new creation represented by baptism. In other words, the Early Church itself saw baptism not as an isolated ritual, but as part of God's continuing work of creation, deliverance and re-creation.

But what makes this image of baptism confusing is the fact that the same Greek word “baptizo” is sometimes used in the Septuagint for the ritual washings in the Old Covenant cultus. In this case, most people “baptised” in water were being prepared to meet with God. For instance, in Exodus 19 the people were instructed to consecrate themselves, a ritual that included washing even their garments, because in three days God would manifest his presence on the mountain.

These Old Testament rites of spiritual cleansing continued through the Old Testament period into the New Testament period as any believer who wanted to approach the Tabernacle or the Temple precincts for whatever reason had to first wash themselves. Today, one can still see the many ritual baths (mikva'ot) at the foot of the Southern Steps at the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. The rites of cleansing were sometimes administered by the individuals themselves (Leviticus 15:13) or by the priests (Leviticus 14:1–7) as ablutions were considered a prerequisite to approaching God at feasts, festivals, and sacrifices. In other words, these were “baptisms of repentance” and cleansing prior to approaching a holy God.

Now, I believe that this rite of cleansing was the baptism that John the Baptist administered. First, because John was a priest, and second, because his ministry was one of preparation. “Prepare the way of the Lord; make his paths straight.”

And then, John also spoke of a different baptism yet to come. “I baptise with water for repentance, but he who is coming after me is mightier than I…he will baptise you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” Now, I think it is possible that John’s “Holy Spirit and fire” may very well be a reference to the pillar of cloud and fire in the Exodus because when the Holy Spirit does come on the day of Pentecost, it is with the sound of a mighty rushing wind that manifests itself, not as a single pillar of fire, but tongues of fire that rest on each and every believer.

But be that as it may, John’s baptism is not the same as Jesus’ baptism. How do I know that? Well because when Paul meets followers of John the Baptist in Acts 19 and is told that they were baptised into John’s baptism, he says, “John baptised with the baptism of repentance, telling the people to believe in the one who was to come after him, that is, Jesus.” In other words, John’s baptism was preparatory.

This distinction was also made by the Early Church. Tertullian described John's baptism as preparation and anticipation, while Chrysostom pointed out that those who had received John's baptism still needed Christian baptism and the gift of the Holy Spirit. The point is not that John's baptism was meaningless. It was divinely appointed, but it was pointing forward to something greater that had not yet arrived.

What then is Jesus’ baptism if it is not the same as John’s? You might well point out that Peter said in Acts 2:38, “Repent and be baptised every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit”? Yes, he did say that, but then he added, “For the promise is for you and for your children and for all who are far off, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself.”

Now, you need to do two things here. First, you need to think like an Old Covenant Jew whose faith taught him that the promises of God belonged to covenant families…men, women, and their children. And second, you need to hear a little word often overlooked that is used by Paul in our Corinthian text. And that little word is “all”. All were under the cloud. Men, women, children, and a mixed multitude. All passed through the sea. Men, women, children, and a mixed multitude. All were baptised into Moses. Men, women, children, and a mixed multitude. All ate the same spiritual food, and all drank the same spiritual drink. Men, women, children, and a mixed multitude.

Now, this is important because Peter's Pentecost promise deliberately uses the same expansive language: “…the promise is for you and for your children and for all who are far off (a mixed multitude, if you will), everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself.” This is more than likely why many of the baptisms recorded in the book of Acts were household baptisms. If the standard practice for the people of God was the inclusion of every member of the household and if that standard practice was suddenly changed or reversed in the New Testament period, surely those who understood how the covenant worked would have raised their voices in protest as they did when Paul did not require the Gentile converts to be circumcised.

An argument from silence I grant you, but I think that this is where Paul's comparison in 1 Corinthians 10 becomes particularly important. Whatever else baptism means, Paul chooses an event in which men, women, children and a mixed multitude together pass through the water and together become one covenant people. The emphasis is not on the age or even the decision of individuals but rather on God's gracious act of incorporating all whom he delivered into his covenant people.

So to recap, the progression in this text is as follows. Divine deliverance, despite themselves, illustrated primarily through the shedding of the blood of the Passover lamb. A divine change of status illustrated by passing through water as at creation and as at the flood, again, despite themselves. Then a divine feeding on spiritual food and drink, both of which were images used by Jesus when speaking about himself as the Bread from Heaven and the Water of Life.

Now the New Testament echoes the same pattern. Divine deliverance, despite ourselves, fulfilled through the shedding of the blood of Jesus, THE Passover Lamb (1 Corinthians 5:7). A divine change of status, in this case from death to life, illustrated by passing through water as at creation, the flood, and the Exodus. Followed by a divine feeding on spiritual food and drink illustrated through our participation in the Holy Communion.

Once again, the early Christians saw this same pattern. Augustine, for example, could move directly from the Red Sea to baptism and then from the manna in the wilderness to the Eucharist: deliverance through water, followed by feeding on Christ. So Paul's sequence is not simply about three unrelated privileges. It is a movement from deliverance, to incorporation, to nourishment.

Then finally, in both the Old Testament as well as in the New Testament, obedience to the will of God is expected. Remember, the Law came after the deliverance…Sinai came after the Exodus from Egypt. Salvation demands obedience as obedience is the natural consequence of salvation.

And with that in mind I now want us to look at what Paul says in verse 5. “Nevertheless, with most of them God was not pleased, for they were overthrown in the wilderness.” Now, if these things happened to them as an example for us and were written down for our instruction, what are we to make of this understatement of all time? Remember, only three of the original adults who left Egypt entered the Promised Land.

Now, we need to keep in mind that Paul was writing to the church in Corinth to warn them against overconfidence and complacency. So, in these verses, he reminds them that, like them, the ancient Israelites shared great spiritual privileges…they were all divinely delivered by God despite their unbelief and doubt…they all experienced "baptism", in which their deliverance was made clear again, despite their lack of faith and their fear…they all ate miraculously provided spiritual food, and drank miraculously provided spiritual water, despite their grumblings and arguments. Yet, at some point their rebellion robbed them of their promised goal as many of them fell away in the wilderness.

Paul’s point then is that religious rituals or rites or sacraments do not automatically guarantee the inheritance of the promise if they are not backed by living, obedient, and enduring faith. Remember obedience is the natural consequence of salvation. So baptism and the Lord’s Supper are not assurances in and of themselves. They are symbols of an inward grace that must be made visible through obedient perseverance.

In his first epistle, John echoes this understanding. “They (and here he means those who were anti-Jesus) went out from us,” he writes, “but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would have continued with us. But they went out, that it might become plain that they all are not of us.”

In other words, while all in the covenant family may receive the signs and symbols of covenant inclusion, men, women, children, and all whom the Lord our God will call, it is only those who obediently persevere who enter the proverbial Promised Land. The proof of salvation is therefore not in our participating in the sacraments but in our perseverance in obedient faith.

But to get back to our original questions. What is this sacrament of baptism that has sparked off so much debate within the Christian community, what does the imagery symbolise, and where does that imagery come from? And here we are going to look briefly at some other passages in the New Testament that might help us to answer these questions.

The Early Church Fathers connected Paul’s comment in Romans 6 to the Flood. “Do you not know,” Paul says, “that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.” So, according to Paul, in baptism, there is a symbolic movement from death to life.

But there is also a deliverance from spiritual slavery. As Paul says in Colossians 2:13–15, “And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, by cancelling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross. He disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him.”

And here we find another important biblical image for understanding Christian baptism. Paul does not merely associate baptism with washing. In Colossians he places baptism alongside circumcision, burial and resurrection: “you were circumcised with a circumcision made without hands,” he says, and then immediately speaks of being “buried with (Jesus) in baptism” and “raised with him through faith.” The Early Church noticed this connection too. Chrysostom explicitly understood Paul's spiritual circumcision and burial as referring to what takes place in baptism. So baptism is not simply another ritual washing. It is the sign of God's new-covenant work of putting off the old life and raising us into a new one.

In Jesus, God provided the deliverance from slavery to the sin that cut us off from our only source of life – and from the death that came about through the disobedience of our ancestors, Adam and Eve, in whom we all once were. Jesus, the one who was like us in every way except for sin, died in our place. But because there was no sin or disobedience in him, death could not hold him, so he was raised from death to life.

As Paul says in Ephesians 2, “And God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved) and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus…” This transition from death in sin to life in Jesus is symbolised by us rising out of the waters of baptism into a renewed status as the people of God.

And perhaps that gives us the simplest way of putting all of this together. The Scriptures give us a remarkable sequence: creation, the Flood, the Exodus, the crossing (and re-crossing) of the Jordan, and finally Christian baptism. Again and again, water becomes the boundary between what was and what God is making new. The waters of creation give way to life. Noah emerges from the Flood into a renewed world. Israel passes through the Red Sea from slavery into freedom. Israel crosses the Jordan to dwell in the Promised Land. And in Christian baptism we pass through the waters as a sign of dying to the old life and rising with Jesus into new life.

That is why baptism is such a rich sign. It speaks of God's deliverance, God's covenant, God's cleansing, God's incorporation of us into his people, God's gift of his Spirit, and God's promise of new creation. But it also reminds us that the journey does not end at the water. Israel had to continue in faith after the Red Sea. And we too are called to continue following Jesus after the waters of baptism.

So today, as we have witnessed Ray’s baptism, let us remember both sides of the sacrament. It is a sign of God's gracious initiative and God's covenant promise. And it is also a call to a life of faith, obedience and perseverance. We enter the water because of what God has done for us in Jesus; and we rise from the water to live as people who belong to Jesus.

Shall we pray?

© Johannes W H van der Bijl 2026