
The present difficulties of the Christian life pale in comparison to our coming eternal glory.
After the apostle Paul outlined the need to limit personal liberty out of love in the last chapter, he now moves to describe a few ways that he does that.
For one, Paul limits his liberty or privilege that he has to receive payment for his gospel ministry. He points out that, “those who proclaim the gospel should get their living by the gospel” (1 Cor. (9:14). Yet, Paul himself, while fully entitled to that right, didn’t make use of it!
Not only this, but Paul in everything aimed to make himself a servant of others. He writes,
“For though I am free from all, I have made myself a servant to all, that I might win more of them” (1 Cor. 9:19).
Paul was free, yet he enslaved himself to others! His aim was to reach them with the gospel, and he was willing to go to great lengths in order to do so.
Now it is certain that Paul wasn’t compromising on his beliefs and engaging with sinful practices in order to be accepted by others. Yet, he became like a Jew to the Jews, he became as those outside the law to those outside the law, and he became as weak to those who were weak (1 Cor. 9:20-22).
He claims he did this so that, “by all means I might save some” (1 Cor. 9:22b). He became their servant so that some natural barriers would be taken down and they might be more open to the truth.
His approach required great personal discipline. Paul uses an athletic metaphor to explain that he wasn’t a competitor who would train casually, or one who would miss punches in a boxing match (1 Cor. 9:26).
He was living his life in order to obtain the prize.
He was treating the Christian life as a race, and as a race that he hoped to win (1 Cor. 9:24-27). His faith in Christ didn’t paralyze him; no, rather his faith in Christ mobilized him to reach others with the hope of the gospel. This wasn’t in order that others would lose the race, but rather Paul was taking seriously that God would one day judge his life:
“But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified” (1 Cor. 9:27).
Now, Paul wasn’t insecure about his salvation. Instead, he was making a point: the Christian race ought to be one that is run with intentionality.
As scholar, Richard Hays, writes of the original cultural context,
“If these athletes push themselves to the limit in training to win that pathetic crown of withered vegetables, how much more should we maintain self-discipline for the sake of an imperishable crown?”[1]
I know as I’ve trained for various races in the past few years that I’ve disciplined myself in my diet and consistently got myself out the door to run even when I didn’t feel like it. I was disciplined because I had a finish line in mind. Interestingly enough, when I don’t have races on schedule, I tend to get lazy. The thought of an impending race and finish line does a lot to get me moving.
How about for us as believers? Is our heavenly finish line on our minds regularly? If it is, do we run the Christian race intentionally and discipline ourselves?
Or do we merely treat the Christian pursuit casually, giving it at best the periphery, leftover elements of our lives and time while the whole of our being is devoted to “better” pursuits.
If we treat many other things in our lives with intentionality, then perhaps our Christian race ought to be taken seriously as well.
[1] Richard Hays, as cited in Roy E. Ciampa and Brian S. Rosner, The First Letter to the Corinthians, The Pillar New Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI; Cambridge, U.K.: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2010), 440.
Bullseye. This life is a training ground, and we can expect a reward that makes all our trials look like small potatoes when we give it all we've got!