-- concerning then the eating of things sacrificed to idols, we know that an idol [is] nothing in [the] world, and that there [is] no other God save one.
The question in front of Paul is meat offered to idols, and the Corinthians opened their case with a fact everyone agreed on: idols are not real. Paul grants the fact, then shows that a true fact, held without love, can still wreck a brother.
Paul's words go further than calling idols useless. Older translations read "an idol is nothing in the world"; one writer argues the point is that the beings the pagans imagined never existed:
The parallel in the last clause of verse 4 seems to favour translating it "there is no idol," rather than "an idol is nothing in the world." Either is legitimate in itself. It is quite true, as the prophets say, that the idols of the Gentiles are empty and powerless. But here the apostle appears to affirm that they had no existence in the world. There were no such beings as the pagans associated with their idols. Later on he shows there were demons behind them, as the law had already hinted (Deut. 32:17).
Paul does not stop at the negative. Naming the one God raises the question of where Christ stands, and one writer marks out what the apostle argues here and what he does not:
Fallen man imagines many gods and many lords in heaven and on earth. But to us Christians there is only one God, the Father, and one Lord, Jesus Christ. Here the point is not to set before us the Deity of Christ. The point is how God has chosen to reveal Himself, and the place the divine Persons hold in the ways of grace towards men. The Father remains in Godhead, and God is the source of all, and all is for Him. The Son, while never ceasing to be God, has become flesh, and in Manhood has taken the place of Lord.
That truth reaches the dinner table:
Pagans may venerate many gods and lords, but to us they are nothing. We know only one God and one Lord... Since this is so, we may refuse to recognise the idols of the pagans in any way. We can treat all meats alike — whether offered to idols or not.
The Corinthians had to hold two truths together. They had grasped only one.
They had to own that the idol was nothing, and yet own that it was something to the consciences of men. Looked at in itself, as an idol, it was nothing; and the meat offered to it was what God created. But then the consciences of men got connected with demons about it... Yet knowledge only puffs up. The man who knew all this might eat this meat with a clear conscience himself. But he would stumble his brother, whose conscience was weak.
Calling the idol nothing does not mean nothing is happening. One writer points to what stands behind the image:
If the idols were nothing in themselves, the demons were a terrible reality of subtle and malicious evil. They ruined those who gave the idols reverence.
The Corinthians treated their correct doctrine as a permit. One writer weighs what knowledge is worth on its own:
Simply as knowledge, it is worth nothing. If we look at it as knowledge that we have, it only puffs us up; it is something in me, my knowledge. True Christian knowledge unfolded something in God. Through what is revealed, God, better known, became greater to the soul... As to the question itself, love decided it.
Some had turned this verse into a defence for joining the temple feasts.
Some of the Corinthians knew that an idol has no real existence, and that there is no God but one (1 Cor. 8:4). Yet they thought that, seeing this, they might sit and eat in an idol's temple. In this they were wrong, and the apostle corrects their mistake. Care for their weaker brothers should have kept them away from idolatrous rites, even from an outward share in them. But more than this, they had no business to be there at all.
- Nothing. The idol has no real existence. The beings the pagans imagined behind their images are not there.
- One. Against a sky full of so-called gods and lords, we have one God, the Father, the source of all, and one Lord, Jesus Christ. This is about how God has revealed Himself and where we stand with Him.
- Something. What is nothing in itself is still something to a weaker conscience. Behind the empty image, demons are a real and malicious power.
- Not enough. Knowledge I hold as mine only puffs me up. The knowledge that counts unfolds God and makes Him greater to the soul.
- Love decides. The fact alone never settled the question of the meat. Care for a brother did — and that ruled out sitting down in the idol's temple.
For and if indeed there are [those] called gods, whether in heaven or on earth, (as there are gods many, and lords many,)
A practical question about food offered to idols leads Paul to ask what a "god" really is. His readers' world was full of beings that carried the titles "god" and "lord."
Paul does not deny that people use the word "god." He denies that anything answers to it. One writer traces where these gods come from: a mind that has let go of the true God.
Though there are those who are called gods by their worshippers, they are no more than an unclean dream. Heaven, as well as earth, is stained by idolatrous imaginings. Man makes gods of what God despises and hates. Man chose to forget the living and true God. Since then a darkened understanding has worn itself out in a pointless search for what should never have been lost.
Scripture itself sometimes calls certain people "gods." A commentator explains that use, then measures every rival against the true God.
True, there are those "called gods." Man calls them that. Even the Scriptures do: the elders of Israel were called this, only because they were God's representatives on earth (Ps. 82:6; Jn. 10:34,35). But that title never gave them any place of worship. If there were "gods many, and lords many," these were simply like lightless asteroids compared with the sun.
The plural is not decoration. One writer shows how long the list of pagan gods ran.
Pagan idolaters have "gods many and lords many" — a god, perhaps, for every virtue and for every vice too; and a lord for every separate place. For the Christian there is no other God but one.
Few of us bow to a carved image today. Another writer names an idol that is much harder to spot.
We may not be guilty of bowing down to a god of our own making — "gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of man." But other idols are always trying to steal our hearts away from Him... The greatest and most subtle idol is self.
Against the crowd, Paul sets two Persons and two titles. A commentator explains why "Lord" is the word used of Jesus here, and what it asks of us.
Fallen man imagines many gods and many lords in heaven and on earth. But to us Christians there is only "one God, the Father" and "one Lord, Jesus Christ"... The Father remains in Godhead, and God is the source of all, and all for Him. The Son, while never ceasing to be God, has become flesh, and, in Manhood, has taken the place of Lord. So the One we know as Jesus Christ is the one Lord to Whom we all owe allegiance and submission. He is both the Creator of all things and the One by Whom we have been redeemed.
Calling an idol nothing is not the whole story. One writer points to what Paul says later in the same letter.
Deluded men may honour these strange objects and treat them as gods. But we know them as only the work of men's hands, and we know there is no other God but one. In saying this Paul had not forgotten that demons and their power lay behind the idols. He points to this sinister fact in 1 Cor. 10:19-20.
The rival powers do not stay quiet forever. One writer takes Paul's arithmetic into the book of Revelation, and applies it to the beast and the kings who follow him.
We may say — borrowing the language of 1 Corinthians 8:5 — that however many lords and kings there may be in heaven and on earth, the Lamb is Lord and King of them all, the beast and his followers included. They cannot help but fall before Him; and He has His associates, called, chosen and faithful.
- Called. The world is full of things called gods. Worshippers hand out the title, and behind it stands a mind that has forgotten the living and true God.
- Counted. Pagan worship multiplied them — a god for every virtue and vice, a lord for every place. Set beside the true God, they are lightless asteroids next to the sun.
- Cancelled. For the Christian the count drops to two. One God, the Father, the source of all. One Lord, Jesus Christ, Creator and Redeemer, to Whom we owe allegiance.
- Concealed. An idol is nothing, yet demons stand behind it — so the "nothing" is never harmless, and today's subtlest idol is self.
- Crowned. However many lords there may be in heaven or on earth, the Lamb is Lord and King of them all, and they fall before Him.
yet to us [there is] one God, the Father, of whom all things, and *we* for him; and one Lord, Jesus Christ, by whom [are] all things, and *we* by him.
Believers in Corinth asked a practical question: could they eat meat from idol sacrifices? Paul answers by naming the only God and the only Lord a Christian knows.
Corinth had a god for every need and a lord for every place. This confession sweeps them all aside and puts two Persons in their place.
Pagans may worship many gods and lords, but to us they are nothing. We know but one God and one Lord. There is the Father, the Originator and Source of all, and we are for Him. There is the Lord Jesus, the great Administrator in the Godhead. All things, ourselves included, are by Him. So we can refuse to recognise the idols of the pagans in any way, and treat all meats alike — whether offered to idols or not.
The verse does not say God is the Father of everyone alive. It says "to us" — and the letter has already said who that means.
This passage completely refutes the idea of a "universal Fatherhood". The apostle says, "for us there is one God, the Father." Who are the "us"? In chapter 1 of the same letter Paul tells us who he is writing to: "all those who in every place call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ". They "wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ", and they have been "called into the fellowship of His Son, Jesus Christ our Lord". These are the ones who stand in relation to God as Father. So the test of the relationship is the One whom those who spread these errors leave out completely: Jesus Christ our Lord.
Two small words in the verse point in opposite directions.
In verse 6, the first preposition is the one used for a river flowing out of a source. The second preposition is the one used for a river running into the sea. So we must understand verse 6 more exactly like this: "to us there is one God, the Father, who is the source of the river of all existence, and we into Him". We do not really need John 4:14 to see this. It is by their worship that the saints return the flow to its Source in God the Father. The second part of the verse teaches that the one Lord, Jesus Christ, is the Creator of all things, and perhaps also the One who upholds them. This is His work for "all things" in the first creation, and for the saints in the new creation.
The verse is not measuring divine nature. It is naming the place each Person has taken in the working out of grace.
In this passage the words "God" and "Lord" plainly have different uses. It is not the divine nature as such, but the place that the divine Persons hold in what men call the economy of grace. The Father rested in Godhead alone, but the Son has become a man and taken the place of Lord in His manhood… It is not that He ceases to be Jehovah, but He has taken the place of Lord. I point this out, because it is in Christ as Lord that grace is administered to me. I am a child with the Father, but if I am looking for administration, I go to the Lord.
Some read the verse as proof that Jesus is not God, since it calls only the Father "one God." Commentators answer that the argument cuts both ways.
Without a doubt, this verse gives deity to the Father alone, and dominion as Lord to Jesus alone. But it has been well said: "you cannot deny the deity of Christ because the verse calls the Father 'one God,' any more than you can deny the dominion of the Father when it calls the Son 'one Lord.'" We may add: nor can anyone deny the deity and dominion of the Spirit, because this verse does not mention Him at all.
A source and a channel could sound like two separate centres. The verse keeps them one.
This opens up another thought about unity. The one God, the Father, from whom all things come, and the one Lord Jesus Christ, through whom all things come, are not two but One — "I and the Father are one" (John 10:30). And that is more than mere equality or shared eternity. His words were His Father's words. His works, done in His Father's name, showed who He was.
- One source. The Father is the spring from which all things flow, and we flow back to Him in worship.
- One Lord. The Son, without ceasing to be what He is, has taken the place of Lord in manhood — the One who administers grace to us.
- One "us." The relationship belongs to those who call on the name of Jesus Christ; a fatherhood shared by all men is not what the verse teaches.
- One Godhead. The verse calls the Father "one God" and the Son "one Lord". Neither title robs the other. They are not two but one.
- One practical effect. Idols are nothing to us, so food offered to them is nothing either — we can treat all meat alike.
But knowledge [is] not in all but some, with conscience of the idol, until now eat as of a thing sacrificed to idols; and their conscience, being weak, is defiled.
The chapter opens with a settled fact: an idol is nothing. Verse 7 adds the catch — some Christians are not sure of that, and for them the same meal stains the conscience.
The people in view are genuine Christians, not pagans. What they still believed about idols was left over from their old life.
He is still speaking of Christians. Some of them were truly alive to God. Yet they were so weak in faith, and knew the truth so poorly, that they thought idols were really gods, though false ones. In the mind of the Spirit they are "nothing." But not every saint has the mind of Christ developed in him to this point.
The difficulty was not in the food but in what the mind carried to the table.
Among believers there will always be many who cannot see such matters in the calm, cool light of pure knowledge. They do not rise above their feelings and other personal impressions. Once these people knew the meat had been offered that way, they could not escape the feelings it stirred up. They had "conscience of the idol" and it troubled them constantly.
Two facts have to be held together.
They had to admit the idol was nothing, and yet admit it was something to the consciences of men. Looked at in itself, as an idol, it was nothing; and the meat offered to it was what God created. But the consciences of men had become connected with demons over it… But knowledge only puffs up. The man who knew all this might eat this meat with a clear conscience himself. Yet he would stumble his brother, whose conscience was weak.
Defilement here does not come from a wicked act. The same plate of food is clean to one believer and defiling to another. The difference lies inside the man.
A believer's conscience is defiled by more than deliberate sin. It is also defiled by allowing anything that dishonours the name or truth of God in any way. If, as in this case, a Christian ate something offered to what he considered a false god, he sinned by his act against the truth he professed. By acknowledging the idol, he gave support to idolatry. Another Christian had learned the way of God more fully and was better established in the faith. To his conscience the same food was nothing but an ordinary meal, and he could share it without harm. Whether the believer doubts or not makes the whole difference between bad and good in such actions.
In practice the rule is simple.
Defiling the conscience means that, if a man has a conscience about something as evil, he must follow his conscience, or he defiles it. If I think I ought to eat only vegetables, I must eat them, or my conscience is defiled.
These believers had a real doubt. The oldest copies of the letter differ over one word here.
They were not at all sure that these false gods were nothing. Several of the oldest manuscripts and versions read synetheia, "through custom," not conscience — that is, from long habit… Doubting like this, they stood condemned when they ate; and Satan took advantage of them through guilty fears.
So what should the stronger believer do when the weak man is watching?
Should a man press his knowledge on someone who, after all, had not reached so far? Instead, it was a case for yielding in love to another's weakness… He was only copying someone else's faith, and copied faith is not faith. This could put him in a state where he was drifting away from a right conscience toward God.
The same thing happens where no food is involved.
A weak Christian may see another go somewhere his own conscience forbids. But because the stronger Christian went, he goes too. The stronger has therefore encouraged the other to ignore his conscience.
- Knowledge — Not all possess this knowledge. Some believers are truly alive to God, yet still think the idol is a real, false god.
- Conscience — The idol is nothing in itself, yet it is something to the consciences of men. The damage happens there, not in the food.
- Defilement — Deliberate sin is not the only stain. Allowing what dishonours God defiles too, and doubt makes bad what faith makes good.
- Imitation — The weak man copies a stronger believer instead of following his own conscience. Copied faith is not faith, and he drifts from a right conscience toward God.
- Love — Knowledge puffs up and presses its rights. Love yields to another's weakness and refuses to stumble a brother.
But meat does not commend us to God; neither if we should not eat do we come short; nor if we should eat have we an advantage.
The Corinthians had asked Paul about the meat in their markets, much of which came from idol sacrifices. Verse 8 settles the food question itself: food counts for nothing with God, which frees the strong and restrains them at the same time.
Paul first defends the believer who eats freely. His reason is a matter of accounting, and the sum is exact.
The answer is very instructive. The Apostle firmly maintains the freedom of the stronger brother. It is a fact that food does not commend us to God. Our practices may differ. Some may eat and some not eat. But there is no advantage in the one, nor is there any falling short in the other. There is neither plus nor minus in the question, as before God.
This is not a small concession. God Himself once drew strict lines between clean and unclean food for His people. This verse marks a real change.
This verse shows the sharp contrast between the old yoke of bondage and the true liberty of Christ. It was God who had once set up for His people the strict law that separated one food from another. But bodily ordinances end with the flesh they were made for. The believer is no longer in the flesh, but in the Spirit... To a risen man all natural things must be indifferent in themselves. Each creature of God is thankfully acknowledged in its place and kind, as a passing mercy from the Father of lights.
If eating gains nothing, then giving it up costs nothing. So Paul grants the point, then turns it against those who pressed their rights.
The apostle admits that food will not commend us to God. Those who claimed this right should make sure that using it did not make the weak stumble. What if the weak one copied it with a conscience that was not free? What if he was emboldened, or built up the wrong way, and the brother for whom Christ died perished?
Not every believer in Corinth was strong in faith. So the food question does not end with the food. What it does to another person's conscience matters more.
Verse 8 shows that eating meat or not eating meat has no advantage whatever before God. The important thing is then stated. "But take care that this liberty of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak." One who is weak in faith sees a brother eating meat in the idol's temple. That example emboldens him to go against his own conscience and do the same. In doing it he sins. He acts not in faith, but copies another, and worse things may follow.
Paul would give up his own rights for another believer's good. But no one should turn that personal choice into a diet law, and verse 8 shows why.
Here is the very real personal exercise of one whose care for souls is such that he will gladly sacrifice his personal rights for the sake of the blessing of another. But this is far removed from making any rule about avoiding certain foods. Nor does he consider that eating or refraining from eating has any effect on the spiritual state of his own soul (1 Cor. 8:8). These things must be kept clearly distinct. God created foods themselves to be received with thanksgiving by those who believe and know the truth.
Since food settles nothing before God, something else must. One writer ties this verse to Romans 14, where Paul defines the kingdom of God.
It is not food and drink. It is righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit... In themselves, they deserve neither blame nor praise (1 Cor. 8:8). But if they are not used in subjection to the truth that is above them, they certainly work evil and not good... Food and drink can establish no heart before God. They may, and often do, unsettle it, but it is grace alone which can establish, strengthen and settle the soul.
- Zero — Food does not present us to God. Eating gains no advantage; abstaining leaves no shortfall. Neither plus nor minus.
- Freedom — The old law of clean and unclean has ended. The believer now takes every created thing in its place as a mercy from the Father of lights.
- Restraint — The zero cuts both ways. If eating gains you nothing, giving it up costs you nothing. The strong have no argument left.
- Conscience — Food does nothing to your own soul. But your example can move a weaker believer to act against his conscience, and he sins.
- Grace — Meats can establish no heart before God. Righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit can — and grace alone settles the soul.
But see lest anywise this your right [to eat] itself be a stumbling-block to the weak.
The question at Corinth was whether a Christian could eat meat that had first been offered to an idol. Paul has already granted the knowledge that settles it: an idol is nothing. Now he puts a guard on that freedom, because someone else is watching.
Some at Corinth pressed a claim, and the word Paul picks up is theirs.
The next question was about eating things offered to idols. It seems to have been raised by the conduct of those who pleaded their liberty or right (exousia) in such a matter. The apostle examined this plea and dealt with it. In doing so he raised a point they had clearly overlooked. He fully admitted that the idol is nothing (v. 4), yet knowledge in such matters is not everything; for knowledge puffs up, but love builds up.
Paul does not withdraw the liberty. He asks how we carry it.
The liberty of God's children is absolute, but they are expected to use it as imitators of God. We have to consider not ourselves only, but both our brothers and the world. A believer may be walking without care and yet with an untroubled conscience. But this is dangerous. We must take care. While we enjoy our liberty — in one sense blamelessly — we can become a stumbling block to others without knowing it. A showy use of liberty rarely fails to injure both the boaster and those who watch his ways. True grace, because it is free and knows its happiness in fellowship with God, makes no effort to seem free. Instead it will seek to use its liberty in love. It considers the weak. It neither despises them nor tempts them by a bad example to act in anything beyond their faith.
Weakness here is not moral failure. It is a conscience that cannot yet act on what the mind knows.
There will always be many believers who cannot see such matters in the calm, level light of pure knowledge. They do not rise above their feelings and other personal impressions. Once they knew the meat had been offered that way, they could not get away from the feelings it stirred. They had "conscience of the idol" and it troubled them constantly. Their conscience was weak, because it lacked the clear and happy knowledge Paul enjoyed. Being weak, it was defiled.
The danger is imitation. A weaker believer copies the act without sharing the conviction behind it. This reaches far beyond the question of meat.
Suppose someone had liberty to eat meat offered to idols, with no scruples of conscience. He must still be careful not to stumble those whose conscience is weak. True knowledge is considerate, not overbearing... This principle applies to all kinds of situations we may be in today. A weak Christian may see another go somewhere his own conscience forbids. Because the stronger Christian went, he goes too. The stronger has therefore encouraged the other to ignore his conscience. God would not let any believer perish. But my heartless treatment of him is, in effect, showing no concern about whether he perishes. And Christ died for him!
Paul goes on to warn that the weak brother may be destroyed. One writer explains what is lost, and what is not.
The perishing has nothing to do with the salvation of the soul. It means instead that a wounded conscience would put the weak brother out of action. It would destroy him as to his spiritual state, and so as to his testimony and service. No believer who falls under a cloud through a defiled conscience is of any use in the wars of the Lord.
Yet the safety of the sheep should not soften the warning.
It is of the greatest importance to let Scripture have its full effect on the soul. We must not blunt its edge with the dogmas of systematic theology... The same authority that says "My sheep shall never perish" also warns us. We must not cause a weak brother to perish by a self-indulgent, unloving use of our liberty. It will be our wisdom, and certainly our moral safety, to listen to the one as well as to the other.
Waiving a liberty is not giving it up. You can still hold it before God.
"Are we then never to use our undoubted liberty?" Yes, says the apostle. If you have faith to use it, keep it to yourself before God. Use it in private, not in public, when using it might stumble a weak brother.
- Knowledge — the Corinthians were right about the idol. But knowledge puffs up while love builds up. Being right was never the whole question.
- Right — the word Paul takes up is exousia, a liberty or right. He never denies it; he places a guard on it.
- Love — true grace makes no effort to seem free. It uses liberty with the weak in mind, and never pushes them past their faith.
- Restraint — a weak conscience copies the example without the conviction. A Christian under that cloud is no use for service — and Christ died for him.
- Result — hold the liberty before God in private, not in public. Do not blunt the warning by telling yourself the sheep are safe anyway.
For if any one see thee, who hast knowledge, sitting at table in an idol-house, shall not his conscience, he being weak, be emboldened to eat the things sacrificed to the idol?
Paul pictures a Christian who is sure that an idol is nothing. This man sits down to a meal inside the idol's own temple, and another believer watches him. The question of the verse is not what the food does to the eater, but what the sight does to the watcher.
The verse sets two Christians side by side. They are not in the same place. One feels at ease, because he has worked out what an idol really is. The other still feels the pull of what he has left behind.
Two Christians are in view here. One has a faith so sound that he feels at ease even in an idol's temple, because he knows the idol is no god at all. The other hates idolatry, but still believes in idols. The thoughtless freedom of the first pours a false boldness into the spirit of the second. It rushes him into an act which, in his case, is not done to God. So the act is not of faith, and is therefore sin. Such examples only build up what the truth must afterwards pull down.
The strong man's example builds something in the weak believer. But it builds him the wrong way.
What if the weak one copied it with a conscience that was not free? What if he was emboldened, or built up the wrong way, and the brother for whom Christ died perished? Scripture describes an act by where it tends. It does not soften the act by the resources of grace that step in to stop the outcome.
So what is the ruin Paul warns about? One writer says the man does not lose his soul. He loses his usefulness.
The perishing has nothing to do with the salvation of the soul. It means instead that a wounded conscience puts the weak brother out of action. It destroys him as to his spiritual state, and so as to his testimony and service. No believer who falls under a cloud through a defiled conscience is of any use in the wars of the Lord.
Another writer warns us not to let doctrine dull the warning.
It is of the greatest importance to let Scripture have its full play on the soul. We must not blunt its edge with the dogmas of systematic theology. The same authority that says "My sheep will never perish" also warns us against causing a weak brother to perish. That happens through a self-indulgent, unloving use of our liberty. It will be our wisdom, and certainly our moral safety, to listen to the one as well as to the other.
Care for a weaker believer is the argument here. But that is not the only thing wrong with the picture.
Some of the Corinthians knew that an idol is nothing in the world, and that there is no God but one. Yet they thought that because they saw this, they might sit and eat in an idol's temple. In this they were wrong... But more than that, they had no business being there at all. The question of being there at all was settled for good by their place at the Lord's table, and their sharing in the Lord's Supper. Granted, the idol was nothing. Yet behind it were demons. By sitting and eating at the idol's festival they would be in fellowship with demons.
The setting is ancient, but the pattern is not. Someone watches what you allow yourself, and copies it without your reasons.
Suppose the one who had knowledge sat and ate in the idol's temple. This might embolden others to do the same thing, at a moment when their own conscience spoke against it. We can apply this principle to all sorts of situations we find ourselves in today. A weak Christian may see another go to a place his own conscience forbids. But because the stronger Christian has gone, he goes too. The stronger has therefore encouraged the other to ignore his conscience.
- Sight — The verse turns on what people see. Your liberty is never private. Someone reads it as permission.
- Boldness — The watcher gains nerve, not knowledge. Your example builds him the wrong way, and he acts on your certainty instead of his own.
- Conscience — He then does what his own conscience forbids, so the act is not of faith, and it defiles him.
- Ruin — Scripture names an act by where it leads. Here it leaves a brother Christ died for out of action, wounded in testimony and service.
- Love — Knowledge alone produced this scene; only love asks what a sight will do to the one who sees it.
and the weak [one], the brother for whose sake Christ died, will perish through thy knowledge.
Paul is dealing with a practical question in Corinth: may a Christian eat meat that had been offered to an idol? Some said yes, because they knew an idol is nothing. This verse is Paul's warning about what that knowledge can cost someone else.
The danger was not the meat but the example. A believer with clear understanding could sit down to eat in the idol's temple. A weaker believer could watch him and copy the act, with no conviction of his own.
Suppose a man without this knowledge saw a man who had it sitting at a table in an idol's temple. Might that not encourage him to eat things sacrificed to an idol, even though his own conscience was not clear about it? He would only be copying another man's faith, and copied faith is not faith.
The ESV says this weak believer "is destroyed." Older translations read "perish," and the writers here use that older word. The word is strong either way. Commentators take it as the direction my act pushes my brother, not a verdict already fixed on him.
In verse 11, "shall the weak brother perish?" shows where my eating tends, as far as I can take it. I am leading him to sin against his conscience. It is not that the Lord will not step in and save him, but that is what I am doing... though I do not believe from other texts that God will leave him there, yet I am making my brother perish.
Other writers measure the ruin by lost usefulness. The believer is not lost, but he is finished as a witness.
The perishing has nothing to do with the salvation of the soul. It means that a wound to his weak conscience puts the weak brother out of action. It destroys his spiritual state, and so his testimony and service too. No believer who falls under a cloud, owing to a defiled conscience, is of any use in the wars of the Lord.
The verse speaks from the side of human responsibility. It does not reopen Christ's promise about His sheep.
This does not raise the question of whether a believer can perish, because the Lord Himself says, "they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand." One passage looks at the believer from the Lord's side; the other looks from man's side. We may fail in our responsibility, and do something that, as far as we are concerned, would cause our brother to perish.
That safeguard does not reduce my guilt.
1 Corinthians 8 teaches us the high value God sets on conscience. So those who force the conscience of a brother are guilty of a crime. If I cannot give up what offends the weaker conscience of another, then as far as I am concerned I am working for his destruction. The Lord will preserve him. He will make good His Word toward him. But if it depended on me — as far as my influence goes — my will would even land my brother in the fire of hell. In that sense I "destroy" him. God charges me with this sin. In His faithfulness He still guards the weak brother from the effect of my unfaithfulness.
One writer puts the division of labour in a single sentence:
We are our brother's keepers, not their Savior. Well has it been said, "out of our careless hands they fall for safety into His."
Paul does not describe the weak believer by his weakness. He describes him by what he cost.
Some of us might feel inclined to say, "Oh, but he is only a weak brother, of very little account as a servant or soldier of the Lord." If we spoke like that, we would forget that he is one of those "for whom Christ died." That makes him of immense value to Him. This is the true light in which to view our brother. So dear is he that to sin against him is to sin against Christ.
Knowledge is the instrument of the damage here.
Human nature has a great thirst for knowledge. But if I chase knowledge just to gain knowledge, it will only puff me up. Love, on the other hand, builds up my brother. And we only know in part, so trusting our partial knowledge to settle questions will often lead us badly astray.
- Knowledge acts. Being right about idols is not the issue. The issue is what my liberty does when a weaker believer copies it without faith of his own.
- Knowledge wounds. Leading him against his own conscience defiles it. A believer under that cloud is no use in testimony or service.
- Knowledge is charged. God preserves the weak brother, but He still charges the sin to me. His faithfulness shields my brother from my unfaithfulness.
- Knowledge is measured by the cross. He is not "only a weak brother"; he is one for whom Christ died, so wounding him is sin against Christ.
- Knowledge must yield to love. Knowledge puffs up and knows only in part. Love builds the brother up, and gives up a right rather than trip him.
Now, thus sinning against the brethren, and wounding their weak conscience, ye sin against Christ.
Paul has been discussing meat offered to idols — a small matter in itself. Here he shows where a careless act against another believer's conscience really lands.
The chapter opens by setting knowledge beside love.
First, he says, "We all have knowledge", in measure at any rate. Knowledge, however, is not enough; we need love as well. Human nature has a great thirst for knowledge. But if I chase knowledge just to have knowledge, it will only puff me up, while love will build up my brother. We also know only in part. So trusting our partial knowledge to settle questions will often lead us badly astray.
The word "thus" points back to something the strong Corinthians thought too small to argue about. One writer measures the gap between how the two sides saw the same plate of food.
Now this "sin against Christ" was all about a "trivial matter": whether a Christian should eat meat that had been offered to idols. Some saw that the meat was no worse for being offered that way, and that eating it made them neither better nor worse. To them it truly seemed a trifling thing. But to the weak ones, eating such food seemed a very serious matter — a most heinous sin. The apostle's counsel here is of extreme importance. The strong were to look at the matter, not from their own standpoint, but from that of the weak. What is so trifling in itself becomes of the utmost importance because of the weak brothers.
The previous verse warns that the weak brother may perish. One writer shows how that happens, and what the word does not mean.
Some of the Corinthians, strong in their knowledge that idols are nothing, went as far as sitting at the meat inside the idol's temple. Some of the weaker ones might be tempted to copy them, wanting a larger liberty, and then become stricken by an accusing conscience, and perish. The perishing has nothing to do with the salvation of the soul. It means instead that a wounded conscience puts the weak brother out of action. It destroys him as to his spiritual state, and so as to his testimony and service. No believer who falls under a cloud, owing to a defiled conscience, is of any use in the wars of the Lord.
It is easy to treat an over-careful believer as unimportant. The verse before answers that with four words: for whom Christ died.
Some of us might feel inclined to say, "Oh, but he is after all only a weak brother, and so of very little account as a servant or soldier of the Lord." If we speak like that, we are guilty of forgetting that he is one of those "for whom Christ died," and therefore of immeasurable value to Him. This is the true light in which to view our brother. So dear is he that to sin against him is to sin against Christ.
The verse does not stop at the brother. One writer explains why, and points to how Paul first learned it.
The real nature of all such inconsiderate acts is here touchingly, as well as solemnly, declared. To wound a Christian conscience is to offend the Lord. Because we forget that we are members of one another, we sin against Christ whenever we wrong our brothers. He is in His people, and what is done to them is done to Him. Paul knew this well. It was the very edge of that sharp sword from Jesus' mouth that had split his own self-righteous heart in two.
If harm done to a believer reaches Christ, so does help. That turns the warning into a test of what real love for Him looks like.
The Apostle never forgot those words, "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?" And we must never forget them. The truth held in them meets us in many scriptures. Those who would strike a blow at Christ today, strike at His saints. Those who would serve Christ today, care for and serve His saints. Whatever is done to even the least of His brothers, He will accept as done to Himself. God grant that we may not forget this. Serving His cause and His people shows real devotion to Christ far better than pouring out warm, loving words to Him or about Him.
- Knowledge starts it. Knowledge held on its own inflates the one who has it; love is what builds up the other person.
- The trifle wounds. The issue was food — trivial to the strong, a grave sin to the weak. Measure the matter by the other man's conscience, not by yours.
- The wound ruins. "Perish" here is not the loss of salvation. It means a believer put out of action — no use in service or testimony, because his conscience is defiled.
- The ruined man is priceless. He is one "for whom Christ died" — the true measure of a weak brother's worth.
- The blow lands on Christ. Christ is in His people; what is done to them is done to Him. So serving His people, more than warm words about Him, is the real proof of devotion.
Wherefore if meat be a fall-trap to my brother, I will eat no flesh for ever, that I may not be a fall-trap to my brother.
Paul ends the talk about food offered to idols with a personal promise, not a rule for others. It raises two questions. Why give up meat for good? And does his choice bind everyone else?
Paul had every right to eat what he liked. One writer shows what held him back:
The fervency of this personal declaration is due to the sentiment expressed in the previous verse. He thinks of Christ, and of the possibility of wounding Him in one of His weak members, and from such a thought his soul instinctively recoils. Everything was indeed lawful for him. If anyone could push his God-given freedom to its furthest limit, he could. A teacher of liberty may surely live out his own teaching. But he walks by another rule.
He defends liberty for others, and lays down his own:
For the glory of God and of Christ, he claims full liberty for everyone the Son of God has set free. But his own steps in this world are guided by tender, watchful care for the good of his brothers in the faith, not by proud delight in his own privileges. To bring them up to his own happy level, he is willing to descend, and, if need be, to remain with the weakest on the lowest ground. He has everything in Christ. So by His grace and in His name he can overcome the desires of his old nature. And for His sake, following His example, he can also say no to desires that carry no blame at all.
This is not only about meat. One writer applies the same test to any question of this kind:
The Apostle first shows that knowledge alone cannot answer this important question, though love settles it very quickly. This matters greatly. He applies the principle here to eating things sacrificed to idols, but it has a wide application. In our day, and in this country, we would not face the question of eating meats offered to idols. Yet many other questions may arise — for instance, whether a Christian should smoke. Some would settle such a question by knowledge, which thinks only of the harm it may do to the body. The better way is love, which asks, "What effect will it have upon my brother?" Knowledge occupies me with the thing in question — its merits or demerits — but love thinks of my brother.
The older wording "while the world stands" renders a Greek phrase usually translated "forever," and one writer explains what stretch of time Paul actually means:
"So also Paul says, 'I will eat no flesh while the world stands,' literally 'to the age,' elsewhere translated 'forever.' The aion there is the period of his own life, and, if the saying were to be rendered idiomatically, it should have been translated, 'as long as I live.'"
Self does the opposite: it bends on truth and hardens toward people. One writer answers with a motto:
Self stubbornly refuses to adjust to the tender consciences and weaknesses of others. It will not give way to them by a hair's breadth, yet it will surrender any amount of truth to keep fellowship with people just like itself. We could head this whole section: "Any length in self-denial; not an inch in surrendering truth." This should always be the Christian's motto. If it is only a question of self, surrender all; if it is a question of truth, surrender nothing.
The test covers even the smallest freedoms:
No Christian has the "liberty" to act without considering his brothers and sisters — even in such trivial matters as food. If the love of Christ filled our hearts we would rather starve than indulge in any pleasure that stumbles a weak brother.
The pledge is Paul's own choice. It gives no one power over another Christian's diet:
The apostle then takes the firm stand that if his eating meat would cause his brother to stumble, he would completely refrain from it. It is completely different if someone demands that Paul must not eat meat because of that person's conscience. He would not give in to a demand like that. But a genuinely weak conscience must be considered. How good if one can willingly give up his own liberty for the sake of others! This is a proper use of knowledge.
- Knowledge asks about the thing. Is the meat itself harmful? Knowledge can answer that, and it stops there.
- Love asks about the brother. The one test Paul applies is the effect of his action on someone else — and the principle reaches far past food.
- The cost is real. He gives up something completely lawful, and gives it up for good.
- The limit is truth. Any length in self-denial; not an inch in surrendering truth. Give up everything where only self is at stake. Give up nothing where truth is at stake.
- The choice stays free. Paul volunteers this; he refuses to have it demanded of him. Giving up liberty in love is the proper use of knowledge, not a new law.