Original Meaning

WITH THIS CHAPTER Paul concludes his appeal for unity among the Corinthian factions. He brings the discussion full circle: having begun with the wrong way to treat the apostles (overly exalting them), he now elaborates the right ways to consider them. They are faithful servants (vv. 1–5), to be judged by Scripture (vv. 6–7), unjustly suffering (vv. 8–13), even though specially related (vv. 14–21).

Verse 1 picks up one of the themes of 3:5–23 with two key terms to describe the nature of the apostles’ servanthood. Instead of seeing Christian preachers as rival leaders, the Corinthians should recognize them as helpers and overseers. “Servant” (v. 1) is not the general term used previously (3:5) but a word that referred to “an assistant to someone in an official position.”1 “Those who have been given a trust” (v. 2) reflects the Greek noun oikonomos (“steward”)—the highest ranking servant of a wealthy landowner, who was in charge of the entire estate in his master’s absence. Together, both words compare Paul, Apollos, Peter, and their peers to servants answerable primarily to God but with authority over their charges. “The secret things” (v. 1b) are “the mysteries,” as in 2:7—those aspects of the gospel once hidden but now revealed, and centering on the cross of Christ.

The key task of a steward is faithfulness to his master, not kowtowing to every demand of his underlings (v. 2). Verse 3 must thus be kept in context. The Corinthians’ view of Paul matters little relative to God’s view of him. Even his own self-estimation pales against this divine assessment. “My conscience is clear” (v. 4) loosely translates “I am aware of nothing against myself.” The verb “to be aware” comes from the same root as “conscience”—an everyday Greek word “which in general had the morally bad negative sense of the pain that we feel when we do something wrong.”2

All human judgments not only lack God’s omniscient perspective but also remain premature (v. 5). The “appointed time” is defined as when “the Lord comes,” that is, Judgment Day. Only then will all facts be known and all the thoughts and intentions of human hearts disclosed (cf. Matt. 10:26), enabling a wholly fair evaluation of Christians’ behavior. These things are not only hidden from human judges, leading to error and bias, but “there is a positive darkness which poisons and misdirects the mind,” as in the Corinthians’ evaluation of Paul. “If it were only a matter of revealing facts of which his accusers were ignorant, that could soon be put right.”3

Again Paul singles out himself and Apollos for special mention (cf. 3:5 and the previous comments, p. 73). They have tried to model a principle apparently well-known to the Corinthians, which Paul wishes the whole church would follow (v. 6).4 For Paul, “what is written” usually refers to his Scripture, our Old Testament. But there is no specific verse that states, “Do not go beyond what is written,” so probably he is referring more generally to the need to remain within biblical standards and hence not become puffed up (NIV “take pride”). Or Paul may be quoting a popular proverb of the day, with “what is written” referring to the rules of arbitration between warring factions or to children carefully tracing letters as they learn to write.5 In each case, however, the general sense would remain the same: observe proper behavior and put an end to rivalries. Verse 7 underlines this appeal with three rhetorical questions anticipating the answers, “no one,” “nothing,” and “no good reason.” The first of these conveys the sense of “Who made you superior to others?” (TEV). Together, the three questions remind the Corinthians that all their spiritual gifts and natural blessings came from God and therefore give them no grounds for boasting.

With verse 8 Paul shifts tone abruptly and unleashes a bitter invective, dripping with irony and sarcasm. The three questions of verse 7 give way to three exclamations. Verse 8b makes it clear that verse 8a is not to be taken literally. Most of the Corinthians were neither wealthy nor royal. Rather, Paul is reflecting the Corinthians’ own arrogant and misguided views of their maturity. Perhaps true on a material level of a minority of the church (but of a majority of the factious leaders),6 Paul’s description of the Corinthians as rich and regal is more directly related to their spiritual self-appraisals.

Here is one of the key texts that discloses the prevailing “overly realized eschatology” (the idea that all of the blessings of the messianic age had already arrived) that afflicted the church at Corinth. “You have all you want” translates a verb which means “satiated,” as in the result of overeating. “Become kings” reads, more literally, “reigned.” If all the blessings of the messianic age had really come all at once, then Paul and his companions would have been experiencing the same freedom from imperfection that these Corinthians claimed.

Instead, verses 9–13 provide a poignant catalogue of the apostles’ suffering. “It seems to me” alerts the reader to Paul’s use of two metaphors throughout verse 9. First, he imagines himself and his companions as prisoners of war in a victory procession by the opposing army (cf. 2 Cor. 2:14–15). Second, he envisions the frequent outcome of such capture—thrown to the gladiators or wild animals in the sporting arena, with death as the most common result. The Greek of verse 9 actually leaves out numerous words that the NIV supplies (literally, “For it seems God has exhibited us apostles as last, as condemned to die, because we have become a spectacle …”), but the insertions seem likely to reflect Paul’s intentions. In verse 10, Paul returns to using irony to mock the way the Corinthians are viewing him as quite different from themselves. At one level, of course, his statements are true: by the world’s standards, he is foolish, weak, and dishonored (recall 1:26). But spiritually, he is the exact opposite, and it is the church in Corinth which is ailing, impoverished, and inglorious.

Verses 11–12a provide a more straightforward list of Paul’s hardships. Some of these result from hostility to the gospel, some from the arduous lifestyle of an itinerant minister in antiquity (cf. 2 Cor. 11:23b–29). Verse 12a

anticipates a criticism of Paul’s ministry which chapter 9 will unpack. Verses 12b–13a give a remarkable model of how to respond in godly fashion to ungodly treatment and echo several sayings of Jesus from the Sermon on the Mount (cf. Matt. 5:38–48 and esp. Luke 6:28).

Verse 13b introduces a measure of hyperbole. Ironically, the Corinthians’ view of Paul too frequently matches that of the non-Christian world. “Scum” and “refuse” both refer to that which is removed by a process of cleaning—dirt, filth, garbage. Some have tried to see allusions to sacrificial language of the Old Testament here but these are not demonstrable. “Up to this time” comes at the end of the sentence in Greek and closes this paragraph by implying that the fullness of the kingdom has not yet arrived, contrary to the claims of many in Corinth. In short, whereas the Corinthians think that their relatively prosperous conditions reflect God’s blessing, Paul points to his sufferings for the sake of the gospel as a more accurate measure of Christian faithfulness.7

As abruptly as Paul’s sarcasm began, it now equally abruptly gives way to tender tones (vv. 14–17). The right way for Corinth to view its apostles in general, and Paul in particular, is as special relatives. Their local leaders are only “guardians” (literally, “pedagogues”—Greek slaves in charge of seeing that children got from home to school and back again safely), but Paul is their spiritual father (v. 15). This parental imagery unites all of verses 14–21 and accounts for Paul’s concern and strong warnings. “Ten thousand” in verse 15 translates the Greek word murios (“myriad”), the highest named number and is equivalent to the old RSV’s “countless.” “Not many” is equally figurative. In fact, they have only one father, Paul (unless he is also thinking of other evangelists who have ministered in Corinth after him).

Verse 16 introduces Paul’s call to imitate him, just as a father in the ancient world regularly taught his sons a trade by modeling it as they studied under him as apprentices. Paul will repeat this call in 11:1 and qualify it: “as I follow the example of Christ.” Because of his unique relationship to this congregation as their church planter and the one responsible for leading many of its members to the Lord, Paul has a unique responsibility and authority to oversee their spiritual growth. He would like to be personally present again to model correct Christian living, but he believes the Lord wants him to stay on in Ephesus a little while longer (1 Cor. 16:8–9). So he has sent Timothy as his personal surrogate (cf. 16:10–11; Acts 19:22), who will hopefully overcome his timidity and arrive soon.

Timothy, one of Paul’s specially beloved travel companions and disciples, first appeared in Acts 16:1–4, was sent out on similar missions elsewhere (1 Thess. 3:2; Phil. 2:19), and ultimately became pastor of the church in Ephesus (1 and 2 Timothy). Timothy will thus remind the Corinthians, through his exemplary behavior, of the appropriate Christian walk, which Paul describes as his “way of life” (v. 17).8

With verses 18–21, Paul closes this four-chapter section of his letter with a final warning. He is coming soon, Lord willing (cf. 1 Cor. 16:5–7), even though some in Corinth are claiming that he is not (vv. 18–19a). He agrees with them that talk is cheap but disputes their claim that “his letters are weighty and forceful, but in person he is unimpressive and his speaking amounts to nothing” (2 Cor. 10:10). If he speaks gently to them in person, it is out of love (v. 21b). But if necessary he will come, metaphorically speaking, with a rod (NIV “whip”), just as faithful fathers in Paul’s day made guarded use of corporal punishment as a disciplinary tool for their children.

What ultimately counts, however, is the presence of genuine spiritual power, as befits the presence of God’s reign (vv. 19b–20). This kingly power must not be narrowly conceived. It consists of the edifying manifestation of spiritual gifts, of winning people to Christ and discipling them, of moral living, and of appropriate humble self-assessment, all in striking contrast to the regal roles the Corinthians thought they were playing (v. 8).

Bridging Contexts

WITH CHAPTER 4, Paul offers the fifth and final method for combating divisiveness and promoting unity: a correct understanding of church leaders as servants of their congregations under God. They are not to be overly exalted but should be respected as his designated authorities for pastoral care in their midst. (For the first four reasons, see above, pp. 67 and 76.)

The key to applying this chapter lies in recognizing how Paul is correcting an imbalance in the Corinthians’ approach to leaders. Taken by itself, Paul’s corrective could lead to an equal but opposite imbalance. But in light of the entirety of Scripture, we can see church leaders as servants who nevertheless have authority (vv. 1–5), as examples who deserve to be followed but not placed on a pedestal (vv. 6–7), and as sufferers who also receive relief from affliction (vv. 8–13). The parental balance between toughness and tenderness is already amply illustrated within this chapter (vv. 14–21).

The two terms for “servant” in verse 1 are in fact aptly suited for conveying an appropriate balance between the authority and submission of church leaders, even if Paul focuses more on the latter here. On the one hand, congregations must not tie the hands of their pastors by so carefully monitoring every small decision that vision, passion, leadership, and growth are squelched. On the other hand, leaders must remain accountable to the cross-centered standards of the gospel, not neglecting the desires of the majority under their care so long as they are compatible with that gospel. The idea of “servant ministry” is variously defined, but the antiauthoritarian core of the concept is profoundly biblical and acutely needed in every area of church life.9 Andrew Clarke sums it up as a task-oriented perception of leadership, avoiding the emphasis in secular society on the status of the persons in leadership.10

Verse 2 underlines another crucial criterion for ministry—faithfulness. God does not require us to be successful, certainly not by worldly standards, and often he does not supply success even on a spiritual level as much as we might desire. Rather he calls us to constant faithfulness regardless of external results. Verse 3 contrasts sharply with 2:15 and, like that verse, must be kept in context.11

As noted under 2:15, 1 Corinthians itself includes numerous references to appropriate forms of judgment which the Christian community must exercise (see above, p. 68). The next two chapters will illustrate two major examples of such judgment: church discipline (5:1–13) and Christian arbitration of legal disputes among church members (6:1–11). But here Paul is stressing that human judgment is relatively insignificant compared with God’s opinion of a person’s behavior. The balance resembles that of Matthew 7:1 compared with verses 2–6. We must not be unfairly or hypocritically judgmental, but when we are prepared to deal with our own problems it is appropriate and essential to deal, however gently, with others’ sins as well (cf. Gal. 6:1).

Similar qualifications apply to verses 3b–4a. Conscience or moral awareness can play a very positive role in convicting individuals of sin and leading them to repentance. But consciences, like all other parts of the human person, have been corrupted by sin. A clear conscience may simply be the product of a faulty memory or, worse, a denial or suppression of moral failure. Conversely, some people’s consciences accuse them falsely (cf. 1 John 3:20), burdening them with undue guilt.

The implicit qualifications of verses 3–4 carry over to verse 5 as well. Preliminary assessments of human behavior, inside and outside the church, are regularly required, but they must always remain subject to correction by information that at times may not be disclosed until Judgment Day. A classic example involves the question of who will ultimately be saved. To paraphrase C. S. Lewis, there will be three surprises in heaven—who’s there, who’s not there, and that you’re there! As in chapter 3, Paul here highlights the positive role of judgment for believers, even though some of the things hidden in darkness will inevitably be negative. Nevertheless, each will receive “praise from God.” “The implication may be that the Lord in his omniscience will find cause for approval where another judge will find none.”12

Given the uncertain meaning of verse 6a, one must beware of drawing any overly dogmatic applications from this half-verse. But the purpose of the saying remains clear from verse 6b. The presumption implied in going “beyond what is written” naturally leads to the ingratitude implicit in verse 7. This verse proved crucial for Augustine in his battle with Pelagius and in his development of the concepts of human depravity, irresistible grace, and predestination. But although these were broadly legitimate theological inferences, they go far beyond Paul’s immediate point of dealing with the Corinthians’ arrogance. Verse 7 does, however, provide further support for the understanding of chapter 3 that sees all believers as fundamentally equal before God, since nothing they possess or have done even after conversion merits reward.

Verses 8–13 starkly highlight the irony of affliction. The New Testament never commands believers to seek suffering or martyrdom; indeed Jesus and Paul often fled from it. And Christ specifically ordered his disciples to escape persecution when they could (Matt. 10:23). Neither does Scripture ever assign any atoning value to Christian suffering. Christ’s cross-work was utterly unique in that respect. Paul’s statement in Colossians 1:24, “I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ’s afflictions,” most likely refers to a fixed amount of suffering which believers must endure in Christ, not to any inadequacy in the atonement.

On the other hand, Scripture consistently points out the positive value of affliction. Paul’s very next letter to the Corinthians supplies a veritable catalogue of reasons why God allows his people to suffer: to enable them to comfort others with divinely given comfort (2 Cor. 1:4), to help a watching world recognize a supernatural origin in our ability to cope (4:7–12), because of the glorious compensation that one day awaits them (4:17; 5:1–10), and because God’s power is often perfected in human weakness (12:9).

In the Sermon on the Mount, Christ declared, “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 5:10). The phrase “because of righteousness” reminds us that God’s blessing does not extend to those who are persecuted for wrongdoing, false teaching, or lack of tact (cf. 1 Peter 3:13–17). We must avoid the fallacy of assuming that religious persecution automatically proves our cause right!

On the other hand, given Paul’s remarks about his “thorn in the flesh” (2 Cor. 12:7–10), almost certainly a reference to some physical affliction, it probably is legitimate to extend Paul’s principles about suffering to natural disaster, disease, and disability, to the extent that they are not brought on by our own sin or negligence. And even then, God can graciously override our mistakes to help us learn from them and grow.13

Here in 1 Corinthians 4:11, three of the four maladies Paul mentions do not stem from his preaching per se (“brutally treated” would be the one exception) but from the dangers of itinerant ministry in the ancient world more generally, when a person entrusted himself to the provisions of others. In parts of our world where ministry is less itinerant, where travel is less dangerous, and where people are less impoverished, we need not anticipate as much hunger, thirst, homelessness, or hard manual labor. But in many parts of our world, these conditions do continue to prevail. There pastors may expect to be bivocational, to be poorly paid, and to travel long distances to small, scattered outposts of believers, ministering in poor conditions with few material resources.

Sooner or later, though, all faithful believers who witness boldly will encounter opposition and hostility to their testimony (2 Tim. 3:12). Sharing in Christ’s sufferings thus becomes a prerequisite to sharing in his glory (Rom. 8:17). The nature of that opposition will vary widely and may at times be less physically severe than what Paul encountered (and for others it may be worse). But common features will doubtless include being thought foolish, weak and dishonorable (v. 10) and being reviled and slandered (vv. 12–13). Ministers and others prominent in Christian leadership should expect to receive the brunt of such opposition and must model appropriately gracious responses. This is all the more reason why status, power, prestige, or wealth simply cannot be valid motives for entering full-time ministry.

Parental concern, in sharp contrast, probably does form the most foundational and legitimate motive for Christian work. The paternal imagery of verses 14–21 reappears in 1 Thessalonians 2:11 but is balanced in that context by corresponding maternal imagery (v. 7). So the point of Paul’s “fathering” the Corinthians has little to do with his gender but much to do with the authority and love exercised over their children by godly parents of either gender.14

More striking is the image of parental modeling, to be imitated by the children. To command the Corinthians to “imitate me” (v. 16) either represents the height of presumption or reflects one of the most profound and challenging insights of all time on how to reproduce Christian disciples. In light of the rest of Paul’s life and teaching, the latter is more probable. Progress along the road to sanctification demands that new believers have consistent, positive, mature Christian models to imitate in all aspects of daily life. This, in turn, implies that more mature Christians must make themselves accessible and transparent to younger believers around them. The ideal, as with Jesus and the Twelve and with Paul and his traveling companions, is for one believer to work with and even live with those he or she is discipling to such an extent that they can truly observe a godly lifestyle. This does not imply that such believers manifest perfection. How to deal with one’s sin—in repenting and seeking forgiveness—is as crucial to model as virtuous behavior.

Parental love earns the right to discipline—hence verses 18–21. Paul warns us that our behavior ought to match our words. If not, then corrective action is required. Yet this corrective action must have the proper balance. All love without discipline produces a pampering permissiveness that leaves its recipients spoiled and still in their sins. Yet discipline untempered by love produces a harsh authoritarianism that drives people away from the church, and often from God, the minute they have the chance to escape.

Contemporary Significance

THE PERFECT BALANCE between the two extremes of authoritarianism and servility among Christian ministers (v. 1) remains a rare commodity today. Many churches seem enslaved to powerful leaders; others fail to let their pastors lead by retaining the real decision-making power in the hands of other official or unofficial church authorities. The refusal of prominent, “fallen” leaders to submit to sufficient church discipline well illustrates the former malady. The rapid turnover rate among church staff, particularly at the associate level, often indicates the latter ailment.

Secular standards of success continue to overshadow biblical ones. Almost any criterion imaginable seems to be exalted above the faithfulness Paul highlights in verse 2—budget, income, size and appearance of church buildings, the presence of Christian celebrities, or the numbers of programs. Even at the more “spiritual” level, we often deceive ourselves into thinking that counting conversions, baptisms, or additions to church membership demonstrates the presence of mature, obedient ministry. Only when we take note with equal care of the number of people turned away from the gospel through our lack of tact or taste and the number of people leaving the church through “the back door” can we determine if the first group of statistics amounts to much.

Churches that are growing numerically may not be as healthy spiritually as some smaller churches in which members are personally and corporately maturing in holiness. Sometimes external forces beyond their control account for the lack of numerical growth. As a classic example, one thinks of the long waits for extensive spiritual fruit encountered by William Carey and Adoniram Judson in India and Burma, and one wonders if some modern church-growth gurus would ever have permitted them to remain faithful long enough to see that fruit ripen.15

It is also difficult to maintain the delicate balance between not judging individuals and congregations at all, even in biblical ways, and judging every minute detail of their lives, often by secular criteria. So too we must walk the tightrope between never dealing with sin in our midst and becoming overly harsh or judgmental in constantly trying to purge it (vv. 3–5). Matthew 7:1 (“Do not judge, or you too will be judged”) seems to have replaced John 3:16 as the most well-known Bible verse by non-Christians, and it is almost always taken out of context and misapplied. For example, protesters supporting a homosexual lifestyle picketed a convention of Christian men trying to recover biblical values for their families, and they paraded this verse on their posters without any awareness of Matthew 7:5 (“First take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye “).

In our radically individualistic, highly democratic society, “Let your conscience be your guide” sounds akin to biblical truth. Verse 4 makes plain that it is not. The theological concepts of the “priesthood of all believers” and of “soul competency” have often been applied far more widely than their Reformation-era framers ever intended. The Bible does teach the ability of each individual to relate directly to God, to understand enough of Scripture to come to salvation, and to be valued in God’s eyes as much any other human being. But these themes have increasingly been distorted to support idiosyncratic, personal interpretations of the Bible and to challenge the right of Christian institutions to uphold standards by exercising discipline and removing unrepentant offenders.16

If verse 6 does refer to following scriptural standards, then we must surely comment on our modern world’s appalling biblical illiteracy, an ignorance which leaves many even in Christian churches unable to cite a majority of the Ten Commandments, name the four Gospels, or identify who delivered the Sermon on the Mount.17 Little wonder that disobedience to the Bible runs even more rampant! Yet Christian education in many churches seems to be on the decline, not on the rise as it should be. Pulpit ministries need to include major biblical teaching components; so must adults’ and children’s Sunday-school classes, home fellowship groups, one-on-one discipleship programs, and so on.18

Most of society works against our learning not to boast about ourselves (v. 7). We grow up learning to take credit for and even advertise our accomplishments in education and employment via resumes and job evaluations. Not surprisingly, such advertisement carries over, consciously and unconsciously, to the Christian life, as we take pride in the statistics of which our ministries and churches can boast. It seems that professional church and parachurch workers are particularly prone to workaholism.

Instead of succumbing to these temptations, we need daily reminders that we accomplish nothing of eternal value apart from God’s empowerment and guidance. This makes all boasting about our successes hypocritical and all hyperactivity overly presumptuous about our indispensability. Consider too the number of Americans who think they are in some way better than foreigners because of the wealth and ease of their lives, without ever significantly reflecting on the fact that they had absolutely nothing to do with the choice of their birthplace!

There are numerous contemporary counterparts to the triumphalism lurking behind Paul’s description of the Corinthians in verse 8 (in addition to our discussion here, see the Introduction, pp. 25–27). Overestimation of our spiritual health and, indeed, of the extent to which we can progress spiritually (and physically, morally, and technologically) is endemic to Western society.

Conversely, we who experience the most widespread affluence of any culture in the history of the world have a poor understanding of the positive value of affliction (vv. 9–13). Like the Corinthians, we often fail to grasp how regularly suffering must precede glory. Michael Green provocatively predicts that “the church in the West will probably remain flaccid and effete until it is called upon to suffer. We ourselves are likely to learn the most significant lessons of our lives through suffering.” What is more, “if Jesus had to tread this path, there can hardly be another way for us. But that is something that we, like the Corinthians, are most reluctant to accept.”19 Given the increased hostility to evangelical Christianity in the public sectors of education, media, and the like, it is not improbable that the American church will increasingly be purged of its dross and learn to tread this path.

At the moment, however, we create uniquely Western heresies such as the so-called “health-and-wealth gospel,” replete with its “name-it and-claim-it” policies for prayer. Those who have immersed themselves in poverty-and sickness-laden Third World cultures and their Christian communities find it almost incomprehensible how any one could believe such wholesale distortion of the Scriptures.20 Mission strategies would also be significantly inverted if 4:1–13 were taken seriously, for less money would be devoted to maintaining Western standards of living in impoverished communities and much more on meeting the desperate spiritual and physical needs of others.21

To be sure, a depressive defeatism which does not believe God can work miracles today, or at least acts as if he could not, is equally unwarranted. Prayer for healing is an entirely appropriate response to a diagnosis of cancer—much more appropriate than immediately making funeral arrangements! God can and does bring miraculous healing from all sorts of afflictions, but such miracles by definition remain the exception and not the rule. More pervasive (or at least more in the limelight) than lack of prayer for healing are the preachers and televangelists who attribute all sickness to sin and blame people for their lack of faith when they pray for healing but do not receive it. Karl Plank succinctly outlines the necessary balance:

Neither the word of enthusiasm nor futility lies open to a theology of affliction. But between the naiveté of cheap confidence and the arrogance of despair spans a more generous irony. The world which hosts the intimacy of life and death demands theology to speak through paradox and allows it to do so in good faith.22

Plank adds that theology must neither condemn nor glorify affliction. It remains an enemy and yet “may bear a preciousness.”

Neither do we handle persecution well. A small minority, particularly in sectarian, separatist circles, glorifies rejection by the world and other Christian groups as if it confirmed their faithfulness. The silent majority so fears rejection that it barely even witnesses to its faith. A correct, mediating position will recognize that Christians are called to stand boldly but lovingly for God’s truth in all walks of life, in speech and in behavior, and accept whatever consequences result. As political and social factors favorable to the gospel continue to deteriorate, even a little light shines brightly in the growing darkness. There is intense irony in the fact that our society speaks out strongly against discrimination directed toward just about every conceivable subgroup of our culture except evangelical Christians.23 Such inconsistency is itself a backhanded testimony to the unique claims and power of Christianity over against all other ideologies.

Even more ironic and misguided are Christian calls to fight back with the weapons of the world. One of the very reasons more militant blacks, Jews, women, gays, and other diverse minorities have at times been able to sensitize society so highly to discrimination against them is because of the aggressive political and legal tactics they have often adopted, tactics that would be inappropriate for Christians purporting to promote a cross-centered gospel to imitate. We may win certain battles—with boycotts against advertisers, asserting our rights to public prayer and Bible study, or overcoming the straightjackets of certain mandates for “politically correct” speech. A limited amount of such protest, when a larger consensus in society is likely to be forged, may at times prove helpful. But in many instances, we go overboard and lose the war, so alienating those with whom we do battle that we may lose them forever as potential citizens of the kingdom.24

The theme of parent-like modeling of Christian behavior that pervades verses 14–21 presents profound possibilities for discipleship in a transient, fragmented, event-oriented society. Again, however, trends in Christian circles seem almost uniformly to follow the patterns of our culture rather than of the gospel. Where academic institutions increasingly compartmentalize knowledge and limit teaching to the classroom, seminaries must create better models of church-assisted education.25 Where the average-length pastorate continues to decrease, we need people prepared to commit themselves to one community of believers for the long haul, through thick and thin. Where Christian leaders tend increasingly toward performance-or entertainment-based ministries, we need more who will make themselves accessible and transparent—and have enough maturity to make the lifestyle then visible worth imitating. Where leadership tends to retain all significant power in its own hands, it needs to recover the model of growth by multiplication—pouring out one’s life into a handful of followers who will in turn each reproduce his or her own followers in like fashion (cf. 2 Tim. 2:2). Where hurting people are increasingly referred to counselors who restrict contact with “clients” to certain hours for which they receive pay, we need sensitive Christians, including those with counseling skills, to be available freely to come alongside fellow believers inside and outside an office. They need to show them by example what mature Christian living involves in numerous walks of life. The more believers can live in genuine community, the more likely much of this will occur. Some of the current resurgence of the house-church movement holds the potential for recovering these strengths of discipleship by imitation.26

Above all, modeling Christian living will include embracing suffering when it is inevitable: “We must incarnate our teachings in a life of service that may invite or at least will not avoid suffering for the faith and the faithful. If we merely talk, we are no better than the false apostles”27 (cf. vv. 19–20).

Verses 18–21 also remind us of the necessary balance between tolerance and discipline, which chapter 5 will elaborate at greater length. If Christian parents are recovering from the permissiveness of the 1960s in order to “dare to discipline,”28 churches need to embark on a parallel recovery of exercising kind but firm resistance against arrogant powermongers who would split congregations today the way factions did in first-century Corinth.