I Corinthians 3:10-11 remind us as readers that in accord with the grace
given to him, Paul is like a skilled master builder laying the foundation,
while someone else has built on it. Each builder must choose with care how to
build on it. The reason is that no one can lay any foundation other than the
one he has laid, for that foundation is Jesus Christ. Karl Barth[1]
stresses that when one says “Christ,” one is also saying, “Christ and His own.”
Christ in his fullness includes the community of people who belong to Him. Yet,
the community is not just a passive object in this building up. It is not a spectator its upbuilding.
It builds itself. Christ builds it up, but through the work and life of the
church. The church needs constant correction and improvement in accord with the
instruction and admonition of the apostles. The church is also the subject to
future judgment. Yet, in all its weakness, need, and dubious quality, it
remains a provisional representation of the goal set by God in Christ. In this
passage, Paul has authority to build up. Building up means integration, which
is the work of God, of the apostles, and ultimately the whole community.
Pannenberg[2]
stresses that theology has developed certain preliminary deliberations or
preambles to faith, or today, “fundamental theology,” that is, theological
reflection that lays a foundation for dogmatics. For him, however,
such deliberations are fundamental only in terms of methodology.
Materially, only the self-revelation in Jesus Christ is fundamental, as this
passage stresses. He[3] also
points out that the ministries of the church are to serve this unity. If the
unity of the church had its basis in them (such as pope and bishops), it would
have been irretrievably lost in view of the fact that in the course of history
the church’s higher ministers have often been the ones to contribute to its
schisms. The ministries of the church can only be signs of this unity.
I Corinthians 3:16-23
begins with questioning them concerning whether they realize that they are the
temple of God and that Spirit of God dwells within them. Pannenberg[4]
thinks that this passage directly implies the deity of the Spirit. In fact, the
tension between the notion of transcendence and immanence gains specificity in
passages like this, in which the Spirit dwells in believers. He[5] also
stresses that the same Holy Spirit who dwells in believers is none other than
the creator of all life in the whole range of natural occurrence and
also in the new creation of the resurrection of the dead. Purity here is a
primary concern, as is holiness. Most of all, however, God’s central and
foundational role in the church is at stake. He[6] stresses
that the Spirit is not “gift” in the sense of becoming a possession of
believers, but rather, is the one who dwells in believers in order to lift them
outward toward others and toward God. As Paul continues, if anyone destroys the
temple, God will destroy that person. The temple is holy. They as a people are
that temple. Paul now makes what seems to be an abrupt shift, even though it
continues a theme he has already explored in Chapters 1-2. He urges them not to
deceive themselves. If they think they are wise in this age, they should become
fools so that they may become wise. The wisdom of this world is foolishness
with God. He refers to scripture that says that God catches the wise in their
craftiness. In another scripture, the Lord knows the futile thoughts of the
wise. Barth[7]
refers to Goethe, who took great offense at this passage, saying that if it
were true, there would be no use in living. He raises an interesting point, for
surely, a proper notion of creation suggests that we have these brains in order
to enable us to make our way through life, and this includes “human wisdom.”
Yet, the point Paul seems to make is in another direction. This does not mean,
of course, that one should seek to be less intelligent than he or she is, but
rather that one’s intelligence does not give one an advantage over others with
respect to our relationship with Christ or the body of Christ. His conclusion
is that no one should boast about human leaders. All things belong to them,
whether Paul, Apollos, Cephas, the world, life, death, present, or future. All
of this belongs to them, they belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God. Each
faction would apparently vie with each other, trying to assert dominance or a
position of authority based on which disciple it followed. In Greco-Roman
culture, people would attach themselves to wealthy patrons. In return for
flattering behavior and public attention, these patrons would give their
“clients” credibility and social status they could never gain on their own.
Particularly when speaking for a patron, a client would enact the authority
that the patron possessed and, therefore, could wield great power. The argument
of Paul is that if they have all these things, why would they be so eager to
claim only one apostle as “theirs”? The apostles, in turn, belong to Christ. As
Barth[8] puts
it, Christ owns and possesses them, and in this fact in a paradoxical way, they
have their secure freedom, whether in relation to human teachers or to the
world around them. He is letting Christian know who and what they are. Barth
will also place this entire chapter under the heading of seeking honor,
referring to it as the futile snatching at honor, here taking place indirectly
by boasting of a connection to another, basking in reflected glory. They seek
honor from the one who plants or waters rather than from the God who gives
increase. Paul thinks of it as self-deception if they think they receive honor
in this way. They belong to Christ alone.[9]
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