And *I*, when I came to you, brethren, came not in excellency of word, or wisdom, announcing to you the testimony of God.
Paul takes the Corinthians back to the day he first walked into their city. He reminds them what he brought and what he left behind — and that raises a question for every preacher and every hearer: if God's message is true, does it need human polish to work?
Corinth was full of people who loved ideas and enjoyed arguing about them. Paul did not arrive as one more thinker offering a system.
They were his witnesses as to how he first came to them. They knew he had come among them at the start, not as a clever speaker looking for an admiring audience, but as a man burdened with a message from the living God. Nor, when he spoke to them of Jesus, had he cleverly tried to make his teaching fit their existing notions or ideas. They were full of speculative thought, and quick both to take up and to debate new ideas of any kind. Even so, nothing in their earlier training or habit of thought was a stock ready for his teaching to be grafted onto. He brought them a testimony, not a theory.
Paul's name for his message tells you where it came from.
What 1 Corinthians 1 calls the testimony of Christ, Paul calls "the testimony of God" in the next chapter. Christ was the subject of the testimony, but God was its source. It was what God sent to men about His Son. And what God sent did not need dressing up with human eloquence, or an appeal to human wisdom.
Paul knew which levers would have worked in that city. He left them alone.
When Paul visited Corinth, he knew he was dealing with people who were easily won over by well-turned sentences or stirring speeches. It made no difference to them whether what was said was true or false. Dress up some hazy speculation or fine-spun "thought" in a philosophical manner, and you soon had attentive, admiring hearers. Here, then, were the means both to draw the Corinthians to his preaching and to make the gospel easy to accept and popular.
What Paul refused, his readers prized.
The Corinthian believers, being carnal, thought far too much of man and of his qualifications and powers. Eloquence and wisdom had a strong pull on them. The Apostle Paul openly disclaimed such things. To him they were only a hindrance, as Saul's armour was to David. He knew that only the power of God is enough to do the work of God. And God does not change the basic principles of how He works. His way of working is just the same today.
Stripping away the ornament left something, not nothing. What remained was a Person.
The apostle did not come with lofty speech or wisdom when he announced the testimony of God at Corinth. God was calling them, as He calls all men, to repent. To that end He was testifying of Jesus Christ and Him crucified. Paul judged it right to limit himself to this at the beginning of the gospel in that pleasure-loving city. More mature souls need Christ in every way — risen, at God's right hand, and coming again in glory. Here he presented His person, and especially Him crucified. It is not a philosophy but a divine person and work. Those who are full-grown need much more, and God keeps nothing back from them. The difference is not reserve on His part. It is the state of souls: some need milk, as babies do; others solid food, as those settled in Christ.
Human helps do more than fail. They change what the preaching produces.
The means we use will largely show the spirit we are of. Paul did not come among the Corinthians "proclaiming ... the testimony of God with lofty speech or wisdom." This was not mere human weakness. It was his definite purpose that their faith should rest not in the wisdom of men but in the power of God. All supplements to spiritual power always make the result a fleshly one. Even where God is working, the true result will show itself in the end, though perhaps only after many days.
There is a plain test for any foundation: what would it take to knock it over?
His speech drew no attraction from the fleshly persuasiveness of a manufactured eloquence. It was the expression of the presence and action of the Spirit, and of the power that came with that presence. So their faith rested on the power of God, not on the fine words of a man. Someone more eloquent or more subtle can always overturn fine words. God's power is a solid foundation for our feeble souls.
- Source. Paul calls the message God's testimony because God sent it. Christ is its subject, God its source — and what God sends needs no human dressing up.
- Substance. Paul brought a testimony, not a theory: not a philosophy, but a divine person and His work.
- Sacrifice. He knew what would have won that audience: polished sentences and clever speculation. He refused it, as David refused Saul's armour.
- Side effect. Adding human power to God's message does not strengthen it. Every such supplement makes the result fleshly, and time exposes it. God's way of working has not changed.
- Settlement. A cleverer man can topple faith built on a man's fine words. Faith built on God's power stands.
For I did not judge [it well] to know anything among you save Jesus Christ, and *him* crucified.
Corinth was proud of its learning and its polished speakers. Paul walked in with one subject and refused every other. Was he shrinking the Christian faith to one fact? Or was he choosing his ground on purpose — and if so, why that ground?
The city itself shaped his decision.
Corinth was a city of learning, luxury and immorality, and all three affected the assembly there. The apostle put it on record that when he first came among them he held back from anything like "lofty speech or wisdom." He spoke "wisdom" elsewhere, "among the mature," but he had not done so at Corinth.
Paul aimed that limit at one audience, and he had a reason for it.
For his theme he had Christ and His cross only. Fix in your mind the two words, "among you." He knew the tendencies of the Corinthians, with their great ideas about philosophy and human intellect. He would not meet them on their ground, or let them draw him into philosophical discussions of their choosing. The truth of a crucified Christ laid all their pride and glory in the dust. Until a man comes down into the dust he cannot begin with God.
The verse does not mean Paul preached one fact only.
People often use the apostle's resolve "to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and Him crucified" as if he limited his preaching to Christ's death for sinners. That is very far from the truth. We know for certain that he preached much more than this. The truth is that in Corinth, people praised human wisdom and Jews argued hard for human righteousness. The apostle determined to pay attention to neither. He would keep a crucified Saviour before him at all times and minister Him. For he saw in the rejected and crucified Son of God the worthlessness of both human wisdom and human righteousness. He saw in the cross the divine estimate of man in the flesh.
Paul names a Person, not only an event. His first hearers felt that very differently from readers used to the word "cross."
It is not exactly the cross of Christ, but Jesus Christ — the plain fact of preaching Christ. Then he takes Christ in what men would think the lowest and most degraded way — "Christ, and Him crucified." We are used to looking on the cross as redemption, so it is hard for us to feel the effect on a group of philosophers. Think of going and saying, "There was a man hanged in Belfast; trust him." To man it was the grossest folly possible. And notice, it is Jesus Christ — His Person here — and Him crucified.
People quote this verse to excuse staying shallow. One writer answers that use of it head on.
People use it again and again as an objection to studying what the word reveals. This comes from two causes. One is a very fruitful source of error: quoting a passage without looking at its context. The other, sad to say, comes from some degree of dishonesty — a desire, perhaps unrecognised in our own deceitful hearts, to stand still in the ways of the Lord by learning as little of them as possible. It is not true that we are to limit ourselves to the knowledge of Jesus Christ crucified. We must also know Jesus Christ glorified, Jesus Christ at the right hand of God; we must know Him as High Priest, as Advocate with the Father. We ought to know Jesus Christ as much as possible.
One writer looks at the preacher, not just the sermon.
The speaker may have eloquence, and everything that attracts the natural mind. But when it comes to "Christ," hungry souls often starve for lack of food. Happy the man, then, who could say, "I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified." He preached a crucified Christ, and he himself knew from experience what it was to be crucified with Him. Christ in glory had become the object of the apostle's heart, and was also the subject of his preaching. It would have been hard for his hearers to ask, "Where was Christ in all we heard him say?" It would have been far easier to ask, "Where was Paul?"
- Decided. Paul chose one subject on purpose, in a city of learning, luxury and immorality.
- Among you. The limit was on his ground, not on the truth. He would not argue philosophy on the Corinthians' terms.
- Crucified. In the crucified Son of God he saw the worthlessness of human wisdom and human righteousness. The cross is God's estimate of man in the flesh.
- Christ. The message is a Person before it is a doctrine. To the cultured hearer it sounded like folly: trust a hanged man.
- Not a ceiling. Using this verse to avoid study turns it upside down. We are to know Christ glorified, at God's right hand, as High Priest and Advocate — as much as we can.
And *I* was with you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling;
Paul had just told the Corinthians that he came with no polished speech and one subject only — Christ crucified. Now he tells them what he was like as he preached.
This verse is about the man delivering the message, not the message itself.
The preacher himself was among them in a condition that was humiliating to the pride of man. He did not come as a self-confident orator. He knew his own weakness. He saw the deep need of the people he preached to, and how serious his message was. So he was among them in fear and much trembling.
The phrase is easily misread as dread of judgment.
I would point to Philippians 2, 1 Corinthians 2, and other passages. They show that we should not lower "with fear and trembling" to mere dread of punishment. We should see it instead as a sense of weakness joined with solemn responsibility before God.
Two things pressed on him: an enemy at work in the city, and his own sinful nature still in him.
He did not arrive among them with a great flourish of trumpets. He did not announce himself as "Palestine's most powerful Preacher," or something of that sort, as people do today. The very reverse. Weakness, fear, trembling are the things he mentions. He was keenly aware that the flesh was still in him. It might draw him away from undivided faithfulness to his Master, and betray him into something that was not of God. He knew the mighty power of the devil, entrenched in Corinthian hearts. So he feared and trembled. And so there was room for the Spirit of God to show His power.
There was another reason to tremble, and it lay in the hearers.
Paul did not want the Corinthians to lean on him; in fact, he "trembled" in case they should be tempted to do so. He would have done them a serious wrong if he had come between their souls and the true source of all authority. That source is the true foundation of confidence and peace. Had he led them to build on himself, he would have robbed them of God, and that would have been a serious wrong indeed.
The Lord met him during that same stay in Corinth. The encouragement did not remove the danger. It moved the question off Paul altogether.
Paul's labours at this time were of no ordinary kind. He who saw from the mountain-top His disciples struggling at the oars also saw His servant's need of encouragement. So He spoke to Paul in the night by a vision: "Do not be afraid, but go on speaking and do not be silent, for I am with you, and no one will attack you to harm you, for I have many in this city." The opposition was rising. If Paul had only weighed his own ability to meet it, he might well have lost heart, or even been driven from his post. So the Lord showed him in a special way that it was not a question of himself, but of the Lord against the enemy.
Felt weakness and real strength are not opposites.
So when we are weak we are strong. Weakness that we feel leads to dependence, and only as we depend on Him are we strong with His strength. And we shall not always be conscious of the power, even though we are dependent. So Paul writes to the Corinthians, "I was with you in weakness and in fear and much trembling." Yet the letter and the account of his stay in Corinth in Acts 18 show something else. At this very time he was, in a special way, the channel of extraordinary power in his ministry of the Word. It will often be the same with the Lord's servants. Often they pass through a season when they feel weak and unfit to preach the Word. Later they learn that this was the very time when the Lord used them most in the blessing of souls.
- Weakness owned. Paul came to Corinth with no self-confidence on display. His condition humbled human pride.
- Weakness explained. The fear is not dread of punishment. It is a sense of weakness joined with solemn responsibility before God.
- Weakness guarded. He knew his own sinful nature and the devil's grip on Corinthian hearts. He also feared that they would lean on him instead of God.
- Weakness answered. The Lord spoke to him by night: "Do not be afraid… I am with you… I have many in this city." The contest was no longer Paul's ability, but the Lord's against the enemy.
- Weakness used. He felt least capable when God's power showed most. Servants often find the Lord uses them most when they feel weakest.
and my word and my preaching, not in persuasive words of wisdom, but in demonstration of [the] Spirit and of power;
Paul had just told the Corinthians what he preached — Christ crucified. Now he tells them how he preached it in a city that prized polished speech and clever argument.
Paul matched his manner to his message. He would not dress it up in a style that drew attention to the speaker.
He refused every artificial method, both in the thought and in the words that clothed it. He wanted the truth of God to speak straight to a person's heart. In the same way he was with the Corinthians in weakness, in fear, and in much trembling. This is not the picture people imagine of the great apostle! But that deep sense of weakness was, by grace, his strength. The Corinthians' straining after power was their weakness. His one desire was to exalt God, admitting the nothingness and the guilt of man. He dreaded that any word of his might cloud God's true glory. He wanted his preaching to be God's testimony to and in Jesus Christ, and Him crucified. So his word and his preaching — the thing preached, not merely his manner in it — was not the rhetoric of the schools, but preaching that gave room to God's Spirit.
"Demonstration" is a wide word, and commentators note it may take in the miracles of the early days. But the weight of it falls elsewhere.
He would not sweeten his teaching with flattery to please his hearers. He would not commend it by tricks of rhetoric either. In both manner and substance his ministry was to be "of God"... This broad phrase probably points to the outward miracles. God gave them so freely at the start of the gospel, as a visible sign to everyone of where the testimony came from. But if so, they hold only a secondary place in this description of his work at Corinth. What he insists on is that his ministry was spiritual through and through, and that it reached the hearts and consciences of those who received it.
Refusing human methods was not modesty for its own sake. It cleared the ground.
Paul refused all human means, and all appeal to human nature. That left room for the Spirit to work in mighty power. Suppose faith appears under such preaching. Suppose someone believes a message so humbling to man, a message that ends man in judgment. Then it is not human wisdom that leads them to believe, but the power of the Spirit of God working with them... It is not only a question of the truth they believed, but of the way in which they received it. They received it not from a man, even though that man was an apostle, but from God.
The two methods produce two different kinds of belief, and only one of them survives pressure.
Weakness, fear and trembling marked the man who carried the message. But the message came with the wonderful demonstration of the Holy Spirit and the power of God. If persuasive words of man's wisdom win a person, another display of the same can overturn it. But what the Spirit's power gives stands in the power of God.
If power is not eloquence, then crowds and applause prove nothing either way.
We measure power by work done, not by the show made. A man may be an eloquent preacher. He may draw thousands to hear him. Large numbers may even claim to be saved under his ministry. But the only test of his power is whether souls are truly saved. That is how we know the Holy Spirit has been at work. New birth is His work by the word of truth, whatever instrument He uses.
This pull works on hearers as much as on preachers. It also shows why God often uses the poor speaker instead.
How common the mistake, even in the Church of God! Christians themselves want eloquence, and give it a place above the power of God... Even the saints who know the truth in theory are charmed and drawn by splendid gifts. They take pleasure in the display of those gifts, apart from the truth the gifts pass on. How different was Paul's thought... This is why God often uses those who are "slow of speech" far more than the eloquent. Then no one is tempted to lean on the wisdom of men, and everyone sees that it is the power of God.
- Subject — Paul kept to Christ crucified, a message that humbles man instead of flattering him.
- Vessel — He came in weakness, fear and trembling; that sense of weakness was, by grace, his strength.
- Method — He dropped every artificial device of thought and language, so the truth could reach the heart and conscience.
- Power — The Spirit's own working filled the gap. You see it in changed hearts, not in the speaker's skill.
- Result — Another clever speaker can talk down faith built on human persuasion. Faith that comes from God stands in the power of God.
that your faith might not stand in men's wisdom, but in God's power.
Paul had just described how he came to Corinth: no polished speech, no clever argument, only Christ crucified. Here he gives the reason. The verse asks not what a person believes, but what that belief stands on.
Paul kept his preaching plain on purpose. He wanted the Corinthians resting on something no better speaker could shake.
His speech was not attractive with the artificial persuasiveness of manufactured eloquence. It was the expression of the presence and action of the Spirit, and of the power that came with that presence. So their faith did not rest on the fine words of a man. A more eloquent or more subtle speaker could overturn words like that. Their faith rested on the power of God — a solid foundation for our feeble souls. Blessed be His name for it!
The Corinthians held the truth. Paul's concern goes past what they believed to how it reached them.
How unassailable must be the faith that stands in the power of God! This was not a question of the truth itself — of their getting it. The question was how they got it: from God Himself, by dealing with Him directly about it, or merely from a man, even though the man was an apostle.
Faith is not only our answer to the gospel. It is itself evidence of God's power at work.
If the gospel is God's wisdom, then the faith that embraces it is also a token and a witness of His power. People may believe the teachings of men. Human wisdom has its followers, because our nature responds easily to what is natural. But the faith that justifies discerns the Person of its object. That faith is itself the gift of Him who sent His only Son into the world so that we might live through Him. Its quality matches its origin.
Only one foundation holds. Everything else fails, however respected it may be.
The ground or authority on which we must rest our souls is the same for us as it was for Abraham and all true believers in every age. It is the Word of God, the holy Scriptures. There is no other foundation of faith, and the faith that rests on any other is not true faith at all. Some rest their faith on human tradition, on the authority of the Church, on so-called general councils, on the clergy, or on learned men. That is not divine faith but mere superstition.
The same question presses on preaching today.
Should evangelists adopt the pleasant things of man, the novelties of the age, or anything else, to make the gospel of God attractive to the world? The gospel is indeed called powerful — the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes (Rom. 1:16) — but is it ever to be made "attractive"? The heart of man rejected the words and works of Christ. It rejected moral goodness and divine glory in His Person. That same heart is not one bit more willing today to accept the grace and truth of God in the story of His love and shame on the cross.
So how do you tell real power, if not by the size of the crowd?
We measure power by work done, not by the show made. A man may be an eloquent preacher. He may draw thousands to hear him. Large numbers may even claim to be saved under his ministry. But the only test of his power is whether souls have truly been saved. That is how we know the Holy Spirit has been at work. New birth is His work by the word of truth, whatever instrument He may use.
Time shows which foundation holds.
Some people are merely following men. They accept what a preacher says because he says it. They cling to certain preachers or teachers because of something in their style and manner, or because those men seem very holy, very separated, or very devoted. All this will come to nothing. Those human links will soon be snapped. The faith that stands, in any measure, in the wisdom of men will prove hollow and worthless. Nothing will prove permanent, nothing will last, except the faith that rests on the testimony and in the power of the only true God.
- Two foundations. Faith stands either on human wisdom or on God's power. There is no third option. The verse asks which one is under you.
- Not what, but how. The Corinthians had the truth. Paul's concern was how it reached them: from God Himself, or merely from a man, apostle though he was.
- Faith as evidence. Real faith is itself a token of God's power, because that faith is His gift — from the God who sent His Son.
- Nothing human underneath. Tradition, councils, clergy, learned men — faith resting on any of these is not divine faith at all.
- The test is permanence. Ties to a preacher's style snap. Only faith resting on God's testimony and power lasts. Souls truly saved are the only measure of a ministry's power.