Tag: New Testament

The Greatest Gift

In 1 Corinthians 12–13, Paul speaks to the beauty and diversity of spiritual gifts but shifts focus to what truly matters. While gifts like prophecy, teaching, and leadership are important for building up the church, Paul reminds us they are temporary. In chapter 13, he highlights the things that last forever: faith, hope, and love, with love being the greatest of all.

Paul’s words challenge our perspective on what we should desire most. It’s natural to long for visible gifts that gain recognition or seem to make the biggest impact. Yet Paul calls these gifts “partial” and “incomplete” compared to what is eternal (1 Corinthians 13:9–10). Teaching will one day no longer be needed when we know God fully. Prophecy and tongues will cease when the perfect kingdom comes. But faith, hope, and love endure because they are rooted in God’s eternal nature.

This doesn’t diminish the value of spiritual gifts but reorients our priorities. Gifts are tools for serving others here and now, but faith, hope, and love prepare us for eternity. Faith connects us to God, hope sustains us through trials, and love reflects God’s character and binds His people together. Paul writes, “Love never fails” (1 Corinthians 13:8) because it is the very essence of God Himself (1 John 4:8).

What does this mean for us today? While we should seek to develop and use the gifts God gives, we must also remember that they are a means to an end, not the end itself. Are we as eager to grow in love, to deepen our faith, or to anchor our lives in the hope of Christ’s return? These are the things that will not fade away, even when all else does.

Take a moment to reflect: Are your desires shaped more by what seems impressive or by what will last forever? True greatness in God’s kingdom isn’t measured by visible gifts but by the unseen work of faith, hope, and love in our hearts and lives.

Compassion Without Compromise

Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 9:19–23 reflect his deep commitment to the Gospel and his flexibility in approach: “To the Jews I became like a Jew…to those under the law I became like one under the law…to those without the law I became like one without the law…to the weak I became weak” (NET). His goal wasn’t to compromise God’s truth but to meet people where they were so they might be saved.

This passage demonstrates a beautiful balance between compassion and conviction. Paul adapted to different cultural norms and practices, not to dilute the Gospel but to remove unnecessary barriers. For instance, he honored Jewish customs when among Jews and respected Gentile freedoms when among Gentiles. However, he never compromised Christ’s commands or the core truths of salvation. Paul’s flexibility was driven by a singular purpose: that he might “by all means save some” (1 Corinthians 9:22).

This principle challenges us today. How often do we insist on our own preferences or traditions at the expense of reaching others? Compassion calls us to understand and engage with people in their context, but this must always be rooted in Christ’s truth. Whether it’s learning someone’s culture, finding common ground, or adjusting our methods, we’re called to prioritize the Gospel over personal comfort.

Meeting someone where they are doesn’t mean affirming sin or compromising righteousness. Paul’s approach shows that we can hold fast to the Gospel while extending grace and empathy to others. Consider how Jesus Himself did this—eating with sinners, speaking to the Samaritan woman, and healing on the Sabbath. He embodied truth and grace perfectly, offering salvation without ever wavering from God’s standards.

Are there ways you can reflect this in your own life? Maybe it’s learning to communicate the Gospel in ways that resonate with someone’s background or letting go of traditions that have become barriers rather than bridges. Let’s follow Paul’s example of compassion without compromise, always pointing others to Christ’s unchanging truth.

To Judge or Not to Judge

The phrase “Judge not, lest ye be judged” has become a cultural catchphrase, often used to discourage any form of moral discernment. Yet in 1 Corinthians 5, Paul offers a strikingly different perspective, reminding us that judging is not only appropriate in some contexts—it’s necessary. Paul tells the Corinthian church to cast out a brother engaging in blatant and unrepentant sin, saying, “For what do I have to do with judging those outside? Are you not to judge those inside?” (1 Corinthians 5:12, NET).

Paul’s teaching here clarifies a common misconception. Jesus’ words in Matthew 7:1 aren’t a blanket prohibition against all judgment but a warning against hypocritical and self-righteous judgment. We’re called to examine our own hearts before addressing sin in others (Matthew 7:3–5). Paul builds on this, differentiating between judging outsiders—those who don’t claim to follow Christ—and judging those within the church who profess faith but live in open rebellion against God’s commands.

This kind of judgment isn’t about condemnation but restoration. The goal of church discipline, as harsh as it may seem, is redemptive. By removing the immoral brother, the church sends a clear message that sin cannot be tolerated in the community of believers, while also creating space for repentance and reconciliation. Paul writes, “Deliver this man to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, so that his spirit may be saved on the day of the Lord” (1 Corinthians 5:5).

In a world that often prioritizes tolerance over truth, this passage challenges us to embrace a higher standard of love—one that doesn’t ignore sin but confronts it for the sake of holiness. It also reminds us to leave ultimate judgment of the ungodly to God, who judges with perfect justice and mercy.

Are there areas where you’ve avoided addressing sin because it feels uncomfortable or counter-cultural? Paul’s words urge us to be bold yet humble, seeking restoration and standing firm in the truth of the Gospel.

Whose Praise Do You Seek?

Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 3 are a profound reminder that the foundation of our lives and ministries must be Jesus Christ. Everything we build on that foundation will ultimately be tested by fire, revealing whether it was done for God’s glory or to gain the fleeting approval of others. It’s tempting to seek praise from people, but Paul makes it clear that our work is ultimately evaluated by God, not by human standards.

When we live to please others, we risk compromising God’s call on our lives. Paul cautions the Corinthians not to boast in human leaders or wisdom because they belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God (1 Corinthians 3:21–23). This realignment of perspective is crucial. If we’re ashamed to stand firm in God’s truth because it might make us unpopular, we’re ultimately ashamed of Him—and that’s a sobering thought. Jesus Himself said, “For whoever is ashamed of Me and My words…the Son of Man will be ashamed of that person when He comes in His glory” (Luke 9:26).

This doesn’t mean we should actively seek to upset people or ignore the importance of kindness. As Paul says in Romans 12:18, “If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all people.” However, when faced with a choice between obedience to God and the approval of man, the answer should always be clear. Pleasing God isn’t about arrogance or defiance but about faithfulness.

In a world that increasingly prioritizes popularity and consensus, ask yourself: Whose praise do you seek? Are your decisions shaped more by fear of disapproval or by a desire to hear “Well done, good and faithful servant” (Matthew 25:23)? Living for God’s glory may not always make sense to others, but it’s the only life that will stand the test of eternity.

Shaming the Idle?

Idleness is more dangerous than it seems, and Paul doesn’t pull punches when addressing it in 2 Thessalonians 3:6–15. He warns believers to avoid those who refuse to work, not as a harsh punishment but as a wake-up call to bring them back to productive, Christ-honoring lives. These idle individuals weren’t just lounging—they were becoming busybodies, meddling in others’ affairs and causing unnecessary disruption. Paul reminds us that work isn’t just about making ends meet; it’s about contributing to the well-being of the community and glorifying God through diligence.

The Thessalonian church faced a unique problem: some members stopped working, possibly believing that Christ’s return made earthly tasks irrelevant. Instead of preparing for Jesus in faithfulness, they leaned on others for support, exploiting the generosity of the church. Paul’s response was clear—working quietly and providing for oneself wasn’t just practical; it was part of living a holy life. His own example of hard work showed that no one is exempt from the call to serve others through their labor.

This teaching speaks directly to us today. It’s easy to rationalize laziness or entitlement, but Scripture challenges us to view work as a form of worship. How we spend our time reflects our values and trust in God. Paul’s words remind us to be mindful of our roles in the community, to support those in true need, and to gently correct those who have lost their way—not to shame them into isolation but to invite them back into the fold.

Are there ways you might be called to honor God more fully in how you work and care for others? Paul’s challenge isn’t just about productivity; it’s about living a life that reflects the selflessness and diligence of Christ Himself.

Common Ground

The Apostle Paul’s encounter with the thinkers at Mars Hill is one of the New Testament’s most striking examples of how to engage a diverse audience with the Gospel. As Paul stood before the Areopagus, he didn’t begin with condemnation or alienating truths. Instead, he sought common ground. Pointing out their altar inscribed “To an unknown god,” Paul started with something familiar to them—a gesture of respect for their religious curiosity—and built his case for the truth of the Gospel.

This approach reminds us of the wisdom in meeting people where they are. Paul didn’t dilute his message to win favor, nor did he shy away from proclaiming Christ. Rather, he crafted his words in a way that first invited his listeners to lean in. By acknowledging their cultural context, he effectively disarmed them and made them open to the truth. He even quoted their own poets to illustrate God’s closeness to humanity—a brilliant move that demonstrated his understanding of their world.

How often do we focus more on winning arguments than on winning hearts? The Gospel itself is unchanging, but the way we present it can adapt to the people we are speaking with. Paul’s approach challenges us to think creatively and compassionately. It’s not about manipulating conversations but about being wise in how we engage others. Are we actively looking for common ground in our discussions about faith? Are we listening and seeking to understand before we speak?

Ultimately, Paul’s message at Mars Hill was bold: the unknown god they worshiped was, in fact, the one true God, revealed in Jesus Christ. This moment wasn’t just a clever rhetorical victory; it was an act of love. Paul used his words to call people out of ignorance and into the light of truth.

Our own conversations about faith can reflect this same heart. Whether it’s a debate with a skeptic, a deep discussion with a seeker, or a passing moment with a stranger, we have the opportunity to mirror Paul’s method of Gospel-centered dialogue. It begins by seeing people not as opponents but as image-bearers of God, worthy of respect and capable of receiving His truth. When we start with what is shared and move toward the hope of Christ, we echo Paul’s boldness and his love.