Know ye not that they who run in [the] race-course run all, but one receives the prize? Thus run in order that ye may obtain.
Paul points his readers to something they saw every day: runners in a race. Two questions follow. What is a Christian running for? And does the picture mean only one person can win?
The picture was familiar to people who lived beside famous games.
The figure from these games would be most striking to the Corinthians, who were used to the games held at the Isthmus. Indeed the point is plain to anyone. Even in the games the competitors had to be temperate in all things, though their crown was a fading one and ours lasts forever.
In a stadium, only one runner takes the prize. That is where the picture stops.
Again, in a human race only one can win, only one receives the prize. In the heavenly race every runner, every one who strives, wins. Yes, sovereign grace says he shall surely win. Let us therefore so run that we may obtain. The word of God, the Cross, the Resurrection, the Coming, the promised Glory, are all pledges of our winning. But the runner who is most sure in his heart of winning is the one most aware of almighty and sovereign grace.
If the prize were salvation itself, a Christian would live in constant suspense.
Here it is not a question of life or salvation, but simply of "running in a race," and "so running that we obtain" — not life, but "an incorruptible crown." The call to run assumes you already have life. No one would tell dead men to run a race... He does not give us life as sinners and then set us to run for it as saints. He does not leave us with the gloomy fear that we may lose the precious gift by failing in the race. That would be to "run uncertainly," as many are sadly trying to do. They claim to have entered the course, yet they do not know whether they have life or not.
One writer names the prize Paul was reaching for.
The course run by a Christian is compared to races in which "one receives the prize," with the exhortation, "So run that you may obtain it." 1 Cor. 9:24-27. The prize Paul was stretching forward to win was that of being with and like the Lord in the glory. Phil. 3:14.
The crown at the end answers to how the course was run, not just to entering it.
The crown the Apostle speaks of is not given for being a Christian, but for a faithful walk... It ought to be a solemn thought to our hearts: the Lord means to notice how people have stood as witnesses for Him, and what their walk was like. All will be in glory on the ground of free grace. But Christ watches to see if we run well, and He will give a reward if there has been faithfulness.
God's purpose is settled. The road still tests us.
There are no "ifs" in the purpose of God, and no "ifs" in the accomplishment of His salvation. But there are "ifs" in the way He leads us, humbling us and testing us... There is no "if" as to my being in Christ: I know I am in Christ... but the moment He takes me as an actual living man down here, He says, "So run that you may obtain it."
The runner does not supply his own footing or his own strength.
The race, then, is the race of Christian life, and the contest is that of pleasing the Lord. Christ is its starting point, and Christ is also its goal. The race must be run with patience, by a faith that looks away from everything else and fixes its gaze on Him alone. Men did not compete at the Greek games with nooses round their necks. In the same way, the Christian is not called to save himself by his own effort from the wrath to come. As a sinner, he has already fled for refuge to the hope set before him... It is in his Saviour's name that he appears as a competitor, and by his Saviour's strength alone that he can hope to win.
- Start — God gives life at the starting post, not at the goal; the call to run assumes you are already alive.
- Stakes — The crown is at risk, not the life. The crown answers to a faithful walk, while glory itself rests on free grace.
- Scope — In the stadium one wins and the rest lose; here every runner who strives wins.
- Strain — There is no "if" over God's purpose, but there are "ifs" along the road, where He humbles and tests us.
- Sight — The prize is being with and like the Lord in glory. The way there is a faith that looks away from everything else and runs in His strength.
But every one that contends [for a prize] is temperate in all things *they* then indeed that they may receive a corruptible crown, but *we* an incorruptible.
Paul ends his defence of his rights as an apostle with a picture every reader in Corinth knew: the athlete in training. It raises questions the verse still puts to us. What does self-control cost? Who can win? What is the crown at the end?
The Isthmian games took place near Corinth, so its readers knew athletes and prizes first-hand. One writer notes how sharp the image would have felt, and where it differs in our favour:
This picture from the games would strike the Corinthians hard. They knew the games of the Isthmus well. Indeed the use is plain to anyone. Spiritually, the prize is not for one, but for all, if all run well. But even in the games the competitors had to be self-controlled in all things. And theirs was only a fading crown; ours is everlasting.
The word translated "self-control" (older versions say "temperate") comes from the athlete's routine. It covers what he eats, what he refuses, and how he trains:
Here the Apostle uses a picture from the athletic games at the Corinthian Isthmus. We all know the strenuous training an athlete will put himself through. He will keep away from foods and drinks that would spoil his fitness. In other words he is self-restrained, for that is the meaning of the word "temperate" in our text.
The logic of the verse runs upward. If a fading prize is worth that much discipline, the lasting one is worth more. So when Paul gave up his rights earlier in the chapter, it was not softness:
No one should think that the Apostle fitted in with the world to escape reproach and spare the flesh. To clear away any such mistake, the Apostle shows in the closing verses that the path of service is one of self-denial. There is indeed a reward for service, and it is far better than the prize the world's games offer. There they run for a corruptible crown; the Christian runs for an incorruptible one. If winning an earthly crown needs a disciplined life, how much more must we be self-controlled in all things to win the incorruptible crown.
In a stadium race only one wins, and that limit does not carry over. Yet certainty about the end does not remove the need to strive:
Paul was striving, and so he was self-controlled. That is why he can say, sure of gaining the mastery, "I therefore so run, not as uncertainly." If there is no uncertainty, why strive? The prize is sure to the one who strives, however feeble his striving may be; but the one who does not strive at all is a castaway. Again, in a human race only one can win, only one receives the prize. In the heavenly race every runner, everyone who strives, wins. Yes, sovereign grace says he shall surely win... But the one who is most assured in his heart of winning is the most deeply conscious of almighty and sovereign grace.
The older wording quoted here, "not as uncertainly," is "So I do not run aimlessly" in the ESV.
The strong language is easy to misread as a scramble to be saved. A Bible dictionary sets that aside plainly:
All ran, but only one received the prize. So let each one lay aside every weight and sin, and run to win — not for a fading crown of laurel, pine, or parsley, but an incorruptible one. This is not a contest where those who are not converted have to strive in the hope of gaining salvation. It is a race the Christian has to run as a matter of experience.
The crown here is a victor's wreath, not a royal crown. The New Testament describes it from several angles:
In the New Testament the word usually translated "crown" is stephanos. It is more a symbol of victory than of royalty... It covers both the perishable crown won by victors in the ancient contests and the imperishable crown of the Christian, 1 Cor. 9:25. This latter is further described as a "crown of righteousness," "crown of life," "crown of glory," 2 Tim. 4:8; James 1:12; 1 Peter 5:4; Rev. 2:10. These may refer to the same crown, seen in different aspects.
- Race: The image comes from the games near Corinth. It pictures the Christian's daily experience, not a struggle to gain salvation.
- Restraint: "Temperate" means self-restrained, like an athlete who refuses what would spoil his fitness. The path of service is one of self-denial.
- Ratio: If a fading wreath is worth strict training, how much more the crown that cannot fade.
- Reach: In the stadium only one wins. In this race every runner who strives wins, and the surest runner is the most conscious of grace.
- Reward: The crown is a victor's wreath, not a king's. Other verses call it the crown of righteousness, of life, and of glory.
*I* therefore thus run, as not uncertainly; so I combat, as not beating the air.
Paul describes his own daily discipline. He uses two pictures his first readers knew well: the runner on the track and the boxer in the ring. What makes a life count? And what makes a life look busy while achieving nothing?
A note on wording: where the ESV says "not aimlessly," older translations say "not as uncertainly." The writers quoted below use the older wording.
Paul's picture comes from the games. The qualities he asks for are the ones any competitor would know.
We are viewed as athletes competing in the games, whether running or fighting. So we should be marked by zeal, directness of purpose, and a self-controlled, self-denying life in all things. The athlete, whether in the Greek games of two thousand years ago or in the contests today, is careful not to let his body get the mastery of him. The very opposite. He masters his body, brings it under a very strict regime, and even punishes it with constant exercise. And all this to win a crown that quickly fades.
To run "not aimlessly" is to know where the track leads. One writer notes that such running was visible to everyone watching Paul.
He did not run with uncertain steps, like someone who did not see the true end, or who did not pursue it seriously as a known thing. He knew well what he was pursuing, and he pursued it in a real way, plainly, according to its nature. Everyone could judge by his walk. He did not play at it like a man who beats the air — an easy show of skill.
A boxer who beats the air hits nobody. One writer names the real opponent Paul had in view.
He did not fight as "one who beat the air," that is, as if an imaginary enemy was in front of him. But he knew the terrible foe he carried about inside himself: the "flesh." For that flesh, the Son of God had to endure the judgment of God in infinite suffering. So with all his energy he kept his body under and led it captive.
Certainty and effort can look like opposites. One writer holds them together, and says what becomes of the person who makes no effort at all.
Paul was striving, and so he was self-controlled. So he can say, with absolute certainty of winning, "I therefore so run, not as uncertainly." If there is no uncertainty, why strive? The prize is sure to the one who strives, however feeble his striving may be. But the one who does not strive at all is a castaway. Again, in a human race only one can win, only one receives the prize. In the heavenly race every runner, everyone who strives, wins.
A runner drops anything that slows him down. The test is not whether a thing is bad, but whether it hinders.
The moment we are not conscious of God's presence, self comes up — our own will is there. But if we are in earnest, running to win, we are glad to have every hindrance to our running removed. Test your heart by this. Do you think a man running a race he cared to win would weigh himself down by keeping even gold on him? I judge everything by one object. Christ is my object, so I judge everything by Him. If something hinders me in running after Christ — in taking hold of Him — let it go.
Paul spoke about himself with confidence. One writer explains what that confidence rested on.
Paul was perfectly well assured about himself; but he says that if he had been merely preaching, he would have been falsely assured. But if he was not merely beating the air, he was rightly assured.
Commentators differ over how far the warning in verse 27 reaches. Some read "castaway" as being lost. Others take it as the exposure of someone who was never genuine. One writer compares the word to a counterfeit coin, which "is a base coin and can be nothing else." He adds that Paul "did not say he might become a castaway, but be a castaway, that is false all the time" (A. J. Pollock).
- Track — Paul pictures an athlete: zeal, one clear purpose, a self-controlled life. Athletes give all that for a crown that quickly fades.
- Aim — Running "not aimlessly" means seeing the true end and going after it seriously. Everyone can judge it by how a person walks.
- Enemy — Fighting "not as one beating the air" means facing the real foe. That foe is the flesh inside, not an imagined enemy outside.
- Object — One object settles every question. Whatever hinders the run after Christ goes, even if it is gold.
- Assurance — Certainty feeds the effort; it does not replace it. The one who lives what he preaches is rightly assured. In this race every runner who strives wins.
But I buffet my body, and lead it captive, lest [after] having preached to others I should be myself rejected.
Paul pictures himself as an athlete in the games. He runs, he boxes, and above all he masters his own body. The verse ends with a hard word. The ESV calls it "disqualified"; older translations say "castaway." Does a preacher who lives carelessly risk being lost, or only lose approval as a servant?
Paul takes his picture from the training ground.
The athlete is careful not to let his body master him. That was true in the Greek games of two thousand years ago. It is true in the contests today. The very opposite happens: he masters his body. He brings it under a very strict routine. He even buffets it with continual exercise. And all this to win a crown that quickly fades. Let us aim at the same things, only of a spiritual sort, so that in due season we may receive a crown that never fades.
The word behind it turns up elsewhere in the New Testament too.
In the New Testament the word is adokimos, "disapproved." It describes the wicked. It also describes those who enter the race and fail to reach the goal… It is translated "castaway" in 1 Corinthians 9:27. This seems to show that a man may preach the gospel to others and then be disapproved himself, failing to reach the goal through lack of self-discipline.
Commentators differ on how heavy that disapproval is. One reading takes it in the fullest sense: the person rejected, not just his work.
It means disapproved on trial, which may be absolute or relative… It seems to me very plain what the apostle means. He means a disapproval of the person, in the strictest and fullest way. This is not a mere condemnation of his service, but stands in contrast with it. He supposes that a man might preach to others with no flaw or drawback named. The work is all right — but the person is disapproved.
Others read it of service, not salvation. They divide what a man is as a child of God from what he is as a workman.
I believe the expression applies not to his future but to his present service. It applies not to his heavenly home but to his earthly path. It applies not to his eternal privileges but to his present responsibilities… The body is a good servant but a bad master. If a man does not keep it down, it will completely disqualify him as a servant of Christ from his high and holy work. A person may be a child of God and yet be "disapproved" as a servant of Christ.
Even those who take the word at its strongest deny that the verse puts a true believer's safety in doubt. The point is not that a Christian may perish, but that talking and living must go together.
What Paul means is that he is not only a believer but is living like a believer, or he might be cast away like other people. I have not the slightest doubt that God will keep His people. They shall never perish… The point is that you must compete lawfully and by the rules. Now the rule of Christ is, you must live as well as talk, or else be afraid of the consequences. "For if you live according to the flesh you will die."
Paul could have aimed this at the Corinthians. Instead he puts it on himself.
Notice the tact of the apostle. When he has something unflattering to say, he prefers to say it about himself. When he has something pleasing to say, he loves to say it about others. So here he says, "Lest I myself become a castaway," not "you." He meant their profit, no doubt. He wanted the words to search their own consciences. If even Paul trained himself to keep a conscience free of offence, if Paul kept his body in subjection, how much more did these men need it?
Paul ends with a warning to anyone who speaks for God.
Let us beware of preaching without practice, for the apostle warns us that it is possible to preach and yet be a castaway… Preaching to others is not everything. First we must be a Christian, and then a preacher, if called by the Lord.
- Train — Paul takes the athlete's discipline: master the body, do not indulge it, for a crown that never fades.
- Test — "castaway" means disapproved on trial, the opposite of "approved." A man can fail that test through lack of self-discipline.
- Debate — commentators differ. Some read it as the person himself rejected. Others read it as a child of God set aside only as a servant, as John Mark was for a time.
- Transfer — Paul puts the warning on himself, not on them, so that it would search their consciences.
- Practice — preaching proves nothing on its own. You must live as well as talk: first a Christian, then a preacher.