Pride ...

“… [lest] I myself should be disqualified”: in a recent conversation, I found myself responding with these words from 1Corinthians 9:27. In the context of 1Corinthians 8-10, the Apostle Paul had been addressing “Christian liberty”: What does it mean to be free in Christ? The issue for the Corinthians centered upon eating meat offered to idols—a burning question for them, but certainly not for us; and yet, the implications underlying this question are perennial: To what extent can a follower of Christ participate in cultural activities, and the cultural mores buttressing them?
 
Little reflecting my own upbringing, nonetheless I became familiar with the adage: “Don’t drink, dance, and chew, or hang with those who do.” Clearly this saying seeks to address what is good, right, and acceptable behavior; and equally, it tacitly understands “guilt by association,” a lens through which the Pharisees espied Jesus’ freedom. Admittedly, we might find this adage quaint, or even offensive, and yet daily we make determinations as to what is right and what is wrong—what our neighbor should or should not do, especially if our neighbor lives in the White House.
 
In addressing the issue of meat offered to idols, Paul did not provide an unequivocal “yes” or “no”; rather, he set forth a marker: “I will do nothing to cause my sister or brother to stumble” (cf. 1Corinthians 8:13). With that thought, he then argued: as an apostle, he could rightly receive financial support, but freely chose not to receive such aid. He knew he was right in his refusal, but then—and this I find most curious—using the analogy of an athlete, he offered: “But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.”  
 
“Really, Paul?” I ask. “But what would disqualify you? You know not to cause your weaker brother or sister to stumble. You know that you’re right in not receiving financial help. So what might disqualify you?”

“I preach freedom and grace,” I hear his response, “but lurking in the shadows, quietly wooing, is Pride: ‘You preach truth; you are the stronger one; you are right and good.'" He pauses before continuing: "Spiritual pride is always an enemy of the Gospel of freedom and grace. Always.”

“Thank you, Paul,” I offer. “Soon I’ll be in Uganda, where I'll have much knowledge to share; but in comparison to my Ugandan family, my knowledge of faith, hope, and love might be woefully weak. I have no basis for pride.”
 
Sincerely,
            Stan

Ps. I leave for Uganda on January 14.