Author: Jim Cantelon

Key Verse: 1 Corinthians 6:12 “All things are lawful for me, but all things are not helpful. All things are lawful for me, but I will not be brought under the power of any.”

Have you a pet sin? Once that’s been with you for years? Perhaps It’s relatively secret (apart from any “shared” sinning it may have precipitated with other secret partners). You’ve brought it to God many, many times, but it’s still there. You haven’t mastered it yet. In fact, if the truth were known, it has mastered you.

When you read Paul’s words in the second half of chapter 6, there’s a tendency to react immaturely to his hymn of freedom — “if all things are lawful for me, then lets get on with sinning!”, something inside you cries. But the very thing you think of doing is probably the very thing that has mastered you, or would if it could. Paul, on the other hand, after declaring that “all things are lawful for me,” goes on to quickly add, “but I will not be mastered by anything (v.12b NIV).

Maturity is an elusive thing. We assume a person is mature because he/she is “adult”. They’re in their 40’s or 50’s and have had time to develop — they’re refined and objective. They’ve got their act together; their judgment can be trusted. Not necessarily so.

Some of the most immature people I have known are “up in years”. All their lives they’ve demanded and got their own way. They’ve specialized in making life meet their own needs — often at the expense of the needs of those closest to them. Indeed, their needs have mastered them.

Contrast these self-absorbed ones to the truly free spirit. Here’s someone who has recognized the potential tyranny of his own needs, and has determined, rather, to meet the needs of others at the expense of his own short-term satisfaction. He’s a soul with eyes fixed on the far horizon. Under God, he is master of his own destiny. Truly free and truly God’s.

Key Verse: 1 Corinthians 4:41 “My conscience is clear, but that does not make me innocent. “ (NIV)

Paul appears a touch arrogant here. “I care very little if I am judged by you or by any human court,” he says. Not only does he have little regard for what people think of him, he doesn’t really care what he himself thinks of himself, “I do not even judge myself” (4:3). He refuses to succumb to false guilt.

Psychology tells us there are two kinds of guilt: false guilt and true guilt. False guilt occurs when you accept the blame for not meeting the expectation of others, or yourself. True guilt occurs when you transgress moral law. One is subjective in its orientation, the other objective.

In the final analysis, there’s only one Judge who should concern us. It’s this Judge that Paul fears — “It is the Lord who judges me.” (v.4b).

But here’s the sticky part. Why be subject to judgement at all? Why not eat, drink, be merry, and die — blissfully extinct and obliged to no one?

If you’re at all like me, you probably have had moments when you wished you weren’t constantly accountable — not just to self, family, and friends, but to God. Sometime you just want to be free to be selfish.

Well, for the Christian, that’s not how it works. The Lord is coming. That truth is our hope and our discipline. We’re going to be called to account. We’ll be facing the ultimate court. Without further appeal.

Thank God we’ve got a good lawyer — Jesus Christ Himself, ever living “to make intercession” for us (Hebrews 7:25). He knows what it’s like to be human. And He pleads a good case.

Key Verse: 1 Corinthians 3:3 “For where there are envy, strife, and divisions among you, are you not carnal and behaving like mere men?”

That key verse begins (in the NIV), with, “You are still worldly” (carnal). And, if it were up to some of us to complete the verse we might say, “For where there are the wrong kind of music, sexual misdemeanours, and substance abuse among you, are you not worldly and behaving like sinners?” And there would be a lot of justification for us to think in those terms; after all, sin is sin.

Paul, in fact, addresses these sins in other places. But for now, he’s talking to a congregation — a group who are by definition supposed to be following Jesus’ great command that they “have love one for another”. Here he is talking about relationship sins: sins that a church commits.

It’s too easy for you and me, when talking about the Church, to think in generic terms. The “church” becomes a general abstraction with which we specifically have little to do. We stand apart and judge.

But the church is you and me; and our relationship sins are sins we commit. We look at the other guy and covet; or fight; or separate.

It’s amazing, really, especially in terms of the magnitude of life and the triviality of our conflicts. Here we are, fighting about whether or not to pave the church parking lot, and thousands are dying in Ethiopia. Or we’re seeking to drive so-and-so off the church board, while hostages in Lebanon enter their fourth year in captivity.

Let’s call it like it is. Envy, strife, and division are characteristics of political parties. Isn’t the church above such stuff? Let me rephrase that. Aren’t you and I above trivial conflict? Let’s choose to dwarf our differences with a common commitment to the kingdom of heaven.

Key Verse: 1 Corinthians 2;9 “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.”

“Pie in the sky when you die by and by.” That’s how the Christian hope is cynically described by those who have a low view of heaven. It’s easy, of course to make fun of adults who hope for a glorious future with God, just as it’s easy to make light of adults who believe in leprechauns or any other mythology. Why? Because heaven is not available to the senses. And in a world where the empirical is king, any hope-defying scientific verification is seen as foolishness.

Paul says, “the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.” (1:18). Those who embrace the hope are those who believe the Messenger, and who is He? Later, Paul says, “The man without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him and he cannot understand them, because they are spiritually discerned” (2:14). The Messenger is the Spirit: God Himself. The hope has God as its initiator. So heaven has meaning only to those who have heard from heaven.

So what kind of mind is open to talk of heaven? The Christian mind — “we have the mind of Christ” (2:16b). It’s a mind that embraces the realities of heaven, hell, God in the flesh, resurrection, sin, and salvation. A mind that accepts dependence rather than seeking independence. Yet, even in its childlike dependence, it soars mentally and loves practically, It stretches out to the far horizon and cares for the beggars at the door. It joins an orchestra of fools and plays the rocketing music of eternity. It is deep responding to the call of Deep.

Key Verse: Romans 16:22 “I, Tertius, who wrote this epistle, greet you in the Lord.”

Tertius? Who’s he? And Lucius, Jason, Sosipater, Gaius, Erastus, Quartus? Who are these people?

Lucius, Jason, and Sosipater were relatives of Paul. Erastus was head of Rome’s public work department. Gaius was a local church member with the gift of hospitality. Quartus was simply a “brother” in the Lord. And Tertius? He was Paul’s secretary, the man who took dictation as Paul wrote this letter to the Romans.

But they’re all “unknowns” as far as we’re concerned. Paul, we know. Peter, we know. But Tertius? We tend to give these lesser lights short shrift.

Obviously we’re wrong. You and I are lesser lights; Who’s ever heard of us? In the light of history we’re not only unknowns, we hardly even exist. Does that make us unimportant?

Have you ever seen your liver? or your kidneys? Not likely! All you ever see of yourself is your outer appearance: Your skin, face, torso, arms, and legs. Does that make your skeleton and organs unimportant?

The bible refers to the Pauls, the Peters, and the Sosipaters as the “body of Christ”. Jesus is the head, we’re the body; He commands, we obey. Yet our role, behind the scenes though it may be, is vital.

There would be no Christian history if there weren’t a you and a me. We’re part of the story, part of the plan. And The message of Christ’s life and love would have no meaning whatsoever if it weren’t heard and acted upon by real people, big and little. Jesus came because He loved us: Us — you and me — the “unknowns” who make Him known.

Key Verse: Romans 15:4 “For whatever things were written before were written for our learning, that we through the patience and comfort of the Scriptures might have hope.

” Do you enjoy reading the Bible?” someone asked me recently. “Sometimes, yes. Other times, no.” I answered. “Why the fluctuation?” he questioned. ” Because the Bible is a teacher, and I don’t always like to be taught,” I said. “Why?” he asked. “I guess it’s because teaching always includes challenge to change. And sometimes I want to stay just the way I am. Or at least I’d rather not put out the energy that transformative demands.” Maybe I just should have referred my friend to today’s key verse — it says it all.

The bible was written “for our learning”. It’s a teacher. It records history, “things written before…”, and it expects to be taken seriously. It tells it like it was, and in this honest presentation of the past, it implies that the response of the reader should be just as honest in the present. What’s more, it assumes we’ll learn today from yesterday’s lessons. This, of course, is not always the case.

The Bible encourages us to be patient. To take life a day at a time in light of the ultimate “Day” when we’ll stand before our Maker. It recognizes the ups and downs of daily living but challenges us in the midst of the immediate to dream of the imminent — Jesus is coming again. The kingdom will be established. Take heart! Have hope! Our present sufferings are only for a moment. Nor can they be compared to the glories the await us!

Little wonder the Bible is the best-seller of all time. It is magnificent literature, trustworthy history, and, most of all, a record of God’s revelation to mankind. It’s a word about the Word — Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.

Key Verse: Romans 14:10 “But why do you judge your brother? Or why do you show contempt for your brother? For we shall all stand before the judgement seat of Christ.”

Paul begins this chapter with, “Accept him whose faith is weak, without passing judgment on disputable matters” (v.1). He’s face to face here with the cultural, sub-cultural, and religious sensibilities of a rich mosaic of backgrounds in the early church. Some were strictly observant Jews, others were secular Jews, and still others were Gentiles newly won from paganism and emperor-worship. You can be sure there was a clash of traditions on several levels. You can also be sure the the feelings were strong!

The Apostle puts it all in perspective: “we will all stand before God’s judgment seat”. At that moment of major judgments, all our minor, trivial judgments on earth will seem comical if not tragic.

We’re to put tolerance before dogma. We’re to put ourselves into the other guy’s shoes. We’re to understand and be compassionate. This posture sits far better with our heavenly Judge that intolerance and bigotry.

There’s another point. As convinced as we may be of some secondary truth (as contrasted to primary truths like the unity of God, or the deity of Christ, etc.), we’re to keep our conviction to ourselves if it will be misunderstood by another believer. Or, at least, limit your freedom to those moments when the “weaker” brother will not be exposed to your “flagrant”” behavior.

And don’t be smug or uncritical about your liberty “Blessed is the man who does not condemn himself by what he approves” (v.22b). As we mature in Christ, we should always take stock of our standards and submit them to the ultimate standard: the standard of love.

Key Verse: Romans 13:14 “But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to fulfill its lusts.”

He was an over-eater. He came into my office grossly overweight and self-disgusted. As he told me his story, I received an education in the devastating bondage of “gradualism”. What’s that you ask? Well, you might call it suicide by degrees.

Just like a chronic smoker or pill-popper, he was destroying himself in incremental measure — numb to any short-term effect, but literally degenerating over the long-term. This is what “the flesh” will do if you let it. It’s bent on self-destruction.

Even under the best conditions and the most committed self-moderation, the flesh eventually give out. Wrinkles, aches, pains, cholesterol, and decrepitude of one form or another eventually lay you low. The old body expires, and we fly away.

But the question is: to where are we Flying? The Bible makes it very clear, tough as it seems, that our spiritual well-being has a lot to do with the moral choices we make on earth. It may seem unfair, but if we yield to the “works of the flesh”, the Bible says we won’t “inherit” eternal life — we’ll “fly” to a Godless eternity.

That’s why we’ve got to starve our lusts. Feeding them will only hasten our self-destruction. That’s not to say that our physical appetites are wrong; if we indulge them according to God’s word, we’ll bring blessing not destruction. But the key is obedience. And obedience is usually hard on us — at least in the initial stages.

On the other hand, if we choose to ignore the long term and simply enjoy the short term, we may find ourselves one day, like my fat friend, overwhelmed with self-indulgence and self-disgust. It’s only an extra piece of pie today — tomorrow it may be plugged arteries.

Key Verse: Romans 12:1 “I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.”

Chapter 11 concludes with a beautiful doxology praising God’s wisdom, knowledge, judgments, and paths. He is sovereign and does what He wants to do. And, in the context of chapters 9 through 11, we see He wants to have mercy on all children of disobedience — both Jew and Gentile. It’s “in view of God’s mercy” that Paul, in chapter 12:1, calls us to total commitment: a commitment that constitutes, in fact, our “spiritual worship” (NIV).

Paul bluntly calls for bodily sacrifice — not producing a dead body, mind you, but a living offering. It is significant that the emphasis is physical. We’d all be much happier if the call was for mental assent, but he says we’re to put our bodies where our profession of faith is. We’re to pay the price — choosing sacrifice rather than pleasure.

Someone has said that the trouble with a living sacrifice is that it keeps crawling off the alter. So true. Indeed, the very idea of sacrificial living in our self-absorbed western world seems painfully archaic. But if we’re to practice what we preach, and look to Jesus as our supreme example, then we’re certainly not to embrace a faith that costs us nothing.

It’s fascinating that Paul links bodily sacrifice with spiritual worship: You wouldn’t expect this, for our tendency would be to separate the physical from the spiritual — just as the heretical Gnostics of early church history did. But no, God sees us as a totality, body and soul, material and immaterial — complete individual personalities. And He has such a high view of our bodies that He intends to resurrect and glorify them one day. So don’t separate your “spiritual” live from your everyday physical life. They’re inextricably linked — and God expects total faith from the total man.