Though I am free and belong to no-one, I have made
myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible. To the Jews I
became like a Jew, to win the Jews… To the weak I became weak, to win
the weak. I have become all things to all people so that by all possible
means I might save some. 1 Corinthians 9:19-22
I was on a crowded tube train in London, and having difficulty getting off when we reached my station. A bunch of teenagers on the platform blocked the doors completely. As I stretched my hand out to try and get through, an ill-mannered girl looked at me and said with a note of triumph, “You can’t touch me!” (not, of course, that I had the slightest wish to touch her). She knew her rights, and was enjoying the fact.
“I know my rights!” This has become a common cry in recent years, often spoken defiantly and angrily, as if to say: “Don’t mess with me – I know how to stand up for myself, and I’m willing to do so!”
One of the marks of the Christian is that he or she is willing to forgo their rights – especially if doing so helps to promote the gospel.
This is at the heart of what Paul is saying in these verses.
Oh, he had his rights, all right! – he was a free man. For a start, he was a Roman citizen, a real privilege and status in the Roman Empire. And he had the rights of a follower of Jesus: he had been set free by Jesus from the bondage of sin, and, though proud of being a Jew, was also free from the bondage of the Old Testament law.
But he didn’t “stand on his rights”, as we might put it. If you read the whole passage (I’ve only been able to quote bits) this comes across very clearly. For example, if he was trying to make Jesus known to his fellow-Jews, he was perfectly happy to turn the clock back, so to speak, and to adopt Jewish customs and obey Jewish laws again.
Whereas if he was preaching to gentiles – that is, to non-Jews, or pagans – he was happy to sit light to his Jewish pedigree and to view the world through gentile eyes.
He was a man of strong conscience. If he was invited to a meal and there was meat on the table it would never occur to him to ask if it was kosher. Who cares? But if there was a fellow-Christian with him who was still attached to Jewish traditions, he would be happy to go vegetarian for the occasion in order not to risk confusing or troubling that friend.
Does this attitude make Paul a hypocrite? Does it mean he was two-faced, that he veered every way the wind happened to blow him? No. He was completely open about it, and if you were to confront him he would happily explain the sheer sense behind what made him tick.
Not hypocritical. But – let’s put it this way – extremely adaptable. As far as he was concerned, all that ultimately mattered was the gospel of Jesus – Jesus crucified, risen, ascended and one day coming back. All the rest was of purely secondary importance. And he saw that if you wanted to get the message of Jesus across to someone from a different background you might need to turn a blind eye to certain things that were important to you.
This is something we all have to do every day if we are to witness for Jesus. You wouldn’t preach a thirty minute sermon to a group of small children (well, I hope you wouldn’t, anyway); but every time you plonk your ageing bottom on a mat to talk about Jesus to that group of children you are being adaptable for Jesus’ sake.
You wouldn’t use even perfectly good Bible words like “justification” or “atonement” or “sin” when chatting to someone in your workplace; but you might talk about questions of right and wrong, or the sadness of people falling out with one another, as a way in to explaining the gospel.
Hudson Taylor, a nineteenth-century missionary to China, came in for a lot of criticism from his fellow-Christians when he made the decision to “go Chinese” in his dress-style and hair-style. How shocking! they said. But he penetrated Chinese culture – and Chinese hearts – in a way that previous missionaries had failed to do.
This vital adaptability does have its limits, of course. All right, Paul may say that to the Jews he became as a Jew, and to gentiles he became as a gentile. But he doesn’t say “To adulterers I became as an adulterer” or “To bullies I became as a bully” or “To greedy people I became greedy”. No, sin remains sin.
Rock solid on the essentials; infinitely adaptable on the trappings; and wise enough to know the difference. Is this something you pray to be?
Lord Jesus, teach me how to hold fast to the essence of the gospel while willingly adapting my method to the setting I find myself in. Amen.
I was on a crowded tube train in London, and having difficulty getting off when we reached my station. A bunch of teenagers on the platform blocked the doors completely. As I stretched my hand out to try and get through, an ill-mannered girl looked at me and said with a note of triumph, “You can’t touch me!” (not, of course, that I had the slightest wish to touch her). She knew her rights, and was enjoying the fact.
“I know my rights!” This has become a common cry in recent years, often spoken defiantly and angrily, as if to say: “Don’t mess with me – I know how to stand up for myself, and I’m willing to do so!”
One of the marks of the Christian is that he or she is willing to forgo their rights – especially if doing so helps to promote the gospel.
This is at the heart of what Paul is saying in these verses.
Oh, he had his rights, all right! – he was a free man. For a start, he was a Roman citizen, a real privilege and status in the Roman Empire. And he had the rights of a follower of Jesus: he had been set free by Jesus from the bondage of sin, and, though proud of being a Jew, was also free from the bondage of the Old Testament law.
But he didn’t “stand on his rights”, as we might put it. If you read the whole passage (I’ve only been able to quote bits) this comes across very clearly. For example, if he was trying to make Jesus known to his fellow-Jews, he was perfectly happy to turn the clock back, so to speak, and to adopt Jewish customs and obey Jewish laws again.
Whereas if he was preaching to gentiles – that is, to non-Jews, or pagans – he was happy to sit light to his Jewish pedigree and to view the world through gentile eyes.
He was a man of strong conscience. If he was invited to a meal and there was meat on the table it would never occur to him to ask if it was kosher. Who cares? But if there was a fellow-Christian with him who was still attached to Jewish traditions, he would be happy to go vegetarian for the occasion in order not to risk confusing or troubling that friend.
Does this attitude make Paul a hypocrite? Does it mean he was two-faced, that he veered every way the wind happened to blow him? No. He was completely open about it, and if you were to confront him he would happily explain the sheer sense behind what made him tick.
Not hypocritical. But – let’s put it this way – extremely adaptable. As far as he was concerned, all that ultimately mattered was the gospel of Jesus – Jesus crucified, risen, ascended and one day coming back. All the rest was of purely secondary importance. And he saw that if you wanted to get the message of Jesus across to someone from a different background you might need to turn a blind eye to certain things that were important to you.
This is something we all have to do every day if we are to witness for Jesus. You wouldn’t preach a thirty minute sermon to a group of small children (well, I hope you wouldn’t, anyway); but every time you plonk your ageing bottom on a mat to talk about Jesus to that group of children you are being adaptable for Jesus’ sake.
You wouldn’t use even perfectly good Bible words like “justification” or “atonement” or “sin” when chatting to someone in your workplace; but you might talk about questions of right and wrong, or the sadness of people falling out with one another, as a way in to explaining the gospel.
Hudson Taylor, a nineteenth-century missionary to China, came in for a lot of criticism from his fellow-Christians when he made the decision to “go Chinese” in his dress-style and hair-style. How shocking! they said. But he penetrated Chinese culture – and Chinese hearts – in a way that previous missionaries had failed to do.
This vital adaptability does have its limits, of course. All right, Paul may say that to the Jews he became as a Jew, and to gentiles he became as a gentile. But he doesn’t say “To adulterers I became as an adulterer” or “To bullies I became as a bully” or “To greedy people I became greedy”. No, sin remains sin.
Rock solid on the essentials; infinitely adaptable on the trappings; and wise enough to know the difference. Is this something you pray to be?
Lord Jesus, teach me how to hold fast to the essence of the gospel while willingly adapting my method to the setting I find myself in. Amen.
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