When my wife and I were first married, an older couple at our church whom we loved and respected invited us to their home. They said, “We’d love to have you over for dessert and spend some time with you,” and we were incredibly honored. But not long after we arrived, we realized we had actually been invited to a sales presentation.

We left discouraged, not because they were trying to grow their business, but because they had not made their intentions known. We felt used, and what we thought was an older couple investing in us was actually just a couple trying to get us to invest in their business. What had seemed like friendship suddenly felt transactional.

Paul’s ministry could not have been more different.

Years ago, I listened to Chuck Swindoll teach through 2 Corinthians in a series he called A Minister Everyone Would Respect. That title has always stuck with me because so much of this letter is Paul opening his life and ministry for examination. He was the real deal.

Paul writes, “We put no obstacle in anyone’s way, so that no fault may be found with our ministry.” He understood that the messenger’s life could either support the message or become an obstacle to it. So Paul essentially tells the Corinthians, “Look closely at my life.”

It would be difficult to find any holes in Paul’s character if you consider how he lived his life. He had “great endurance” through beating, imprisonment, and sleepless nights for the sake of the Savior. He walked in purity, patience, and kindness and was careful to speak the truth as he demonstrated “genuine love.” His character had been tested, and he passed.

Paul made a similar appeal to the Ephesian elders in Acts 20: “I coveted no one’s silver or gold or apparel.” He could point to his own hands and remind them that he had worked rather than using ministry for personal gain. Samuel made a remarkably similar appeal at the end of his ministry, asking Israel, “Whose ox have I taken? Or whose donkey have I taken? Or whom have I defrauded?” They could find nothing against him.

There is tremendous power in a life that can withstand examination.

Paul was not claiming to be perfect, but he could say, “Our mouth is open to you… our heart is wide open,” as other translations have put it (2 Corinthians 6:11). There was no hidden sales pitch, secret agenda, or carefully manufactured image. His public message and private motives matched.

Authenticity matters for every Christian. We should be the same people in the living room, break room, and the room where we gather to worship. People should see the same person at home, at work, at church, and everywhere in between. We should be able to say, like Paul, “Look at my life.” Not because we are perfect, but because by God’s grace we are genuine.

Our lives will never save anyone, but they should never become an unnecessary obstacle to someone hearing about the One who can.

I must confess, with the advent of Amazon and all the other delivery services, there is something strangely gratifying about seeing those words: “Out for delivery.” Maybe you are the same way. Whatever you ordered is almost there. For one person it might be a new gadget for a home improvement project; for someone else, a desperately needed box of diapers or a new outfit they have been waiting to wear. Whatever is in the box, anticipation builds when you know it is coming today.

We all appreciate those who deliver our packages, but we also know that they are not the ones who manufacture the product we have purchased. Their role is to simply to faithfully deliver what someone else has prepared and entrusted to him.

In much the same way, Christians are God’s delivery people, but the package we have been entrusted with is infinitely more important.

Paul calls it “the message of reconciliation.” Sin has separated us from God, but through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, sinners can be forgiven and reconciled to him. We who were once God’s enemies can now have peace with God. That is what is in the package, and there is no better news we could deliver.

Christ has already done everything necessary for salvation. We don’t manufacture the message, improve it, soften it, or change it. We simply deliver what God has provided.

Paul says, “We are ambassadors for Christ.” An ambassador represents the ruler who sent him. As citizens of heaven, we have been sent into this world to represent our King. We don’t speak for ourselves or have the authority to rewrite his message. God is making his appeal through us: “Be reconciled to God.”

That should also relieve some of our fear of rejection. We are not responsible for changing anyone’s heart. We are the messengers, not the King. Our responsibility is to deliver his message faithfully.

God has given each of us a unique delivery route. Your neighbors, coworkers, friends, and family members are people I may never meet. God has providentially placed you among them as one of his ambassadors. Even that obnoxious neighbor may be part of your route. Instead of merely seeing irritation, begin to see a soul who desperately needs peace with God.

Charles Spurgeon captured the urgency of this responsibility when he said, “If sinners will be damned, at least let them leap to hell over our bodies. And if they perish, let them perish with our arms about their knees, imploring them to stay.”

There is another thing about delivery people: when someone sends you an incredible gift, you normally don’t chase down the delivery driver and shower him with praise. You appreciate the delivery, but your gratitude belongs to the person who sent the gift.

The same is true of the gospel. If God uses us to lead someone to Christ, we just delivered the package. God sent it, Christ purchased it, and the Spirit opens hearts to receive it. All the glory belongs to him.

So, who is on your delivery route today?

I know some people absolutely love camping, and I understand why. There is something special about getting outdoors, sitting around a campfire, and getting away from the normal routine of life. The problem is, I have never been very good at it.

I am an inexperienced camper. I have smoked out half the campground trying to get a fire going, and once I learned the hard way that you should never keep food inside your tent. A squirrel actually ate its way through the side of ours to get to it. Apparently, that is Camping 101, but somehow I missed that lesson.

Still, even after a great camping trip, there is something wonderful about getting home. Your own bed feels better than you remembered. The shower feels especially good. You walk through the front door and think, It is good to be home.

Maybe that is the best part about camping: it reminds you how good home is.

That is the picture Paul gives us in 2 Corinthians 4 and 5. He describes our present bodies as tents. A tent is useful for a season, but no one mistakes it for a permanent home. It is temporary by design.

Life in these earthly tents is not easy. Paul acknowledges suffering, weakness, and the reality that “our outer self is wasting away.” Yet he still says, “We do not lose heart” (4:16).

Why not?

Because “this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (4:17). Paul does not call suffering light because it feels light. Some burdens are crushing, and some losses leave scars for a lifetime. Suffering only appears light when placed beside the endless glory awaiting us.

One of the last things you do when camping is pack everything up. You fold the tent, gather your belongings, and pull up the stakes. One day, every believer will pull up the stakes of this earthly tent.

But for the Christian, death is not termination. It is transportation.

Paul writes, “We would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord” (5:8). Over the years, I have stood beside many gravesides and watched grieving families say goodbye. There are few truths more comforting than knowing that what is being buried is a human tent, but the person who trusted Christ is safely home.

We grieve because we miss those who have died in the Lord, but we do not grieve as those who have no hope. Their earthly tent has been taken down, but they are not lost or alone. They are present with Christ.

The psalmist says, “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints” (Psalm 116:15). I do not know exactly how God arranges that final transportation, but I know he takes his children safely home—and it probably will not be in a Ford.

Because we know we are going home, “we make it our aim to please him” (5:9). Keep walking by faith. Keep pleasing Christ. Home is closer today than it was yesterday.

We have all done something and immediately concluded, “That was not a good idea.”

Years ago, I was driving down the freeway with the corner piece of a sectional couch in the back of my pickup truck. It was still in the box, but suddenly I watched it fly out of the truck.

Miraculously, the box landed perfectly flat, slid gently off the side of the freeway, and did not strike another vehicle. As soon as I could exit, turn around, and make my way back, I picked it up. Incredibly, the sectional piece was not damaged.

It still frightens me to think about what might have happened. I was deeply grateful that no one was hurt and no accident occurred, but my conclusion was obvious: that was a very bad idea.

Sometimes, when I read 2 Corinthians 4, I am tempted to wonder whether God’s plan sounds like a bad idea. Paul says God has placed the priceless treasure of the gospel into fragile jars of clay. Putting such an extraordinary treasure into someone as ordinary, weak, and breakable as me can seem like the wrong choice.

But God never makes mistakes. Therefore, the question is not whether he chose the wrong containers. The question is why he deliberately chose weak ones.

Clay pots were common, inexpensive, easily broken, and quickly replaced. No one admired the container. All the value was found in what it held. In the same way, the power of Paul’s ministry was not found in Paul’s personality, abilities, or strength. The surpassing power belonged entirely to God.

Paul could honestly say, “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.” Paul’s service to Christ included much hardship and opposition. Yet every trial became another opportunity for God’s sustaining power to be displayed.

Paul was weak, but God remained strong. Paul was knocked down, but God raised him up. Paul was pressured, but the treasure within him could not be destroyed.

We spend much of our lives trying to hide our weaknesses. We want people to notice our strengths, accomplishments, and successes. But weakness reminds us that we are only the container. The treasure is Christ and the good news of his death and resurrection.

God has deposited that gospel in us and appointed us as his ambassadors. He has no Plan B. He intends for ordinary, imperfect people to carry the message of his extraordinary grace.

Sometimes it is through our brokenness that the treasure becomes most visible. A cracked clay pot allows what is inside to spill out. In the same way, humble believers who have been broken by hardship, repentance, and dependence upon God often display the beauty of Christ most clearly.

Do not waste your weakness by hiding it, resenting it, or allowing it to silence you. The treasure has never been the jar. The treasure has always been Jesus.

My wife loves putting puzzles together. I enjoy puzzles too, especially when there is only one piece left, and I get to put it in. She may have spent hours sorting pieces, finding the edges, matching colors, and slowly putting everything together, but I am always willing to help with that final piece.

When a puzzle is first dumped onto the table, it can be hard to imagine how all those scattered pieces will ever become the picture on the box. But little by little, the picture begins to take shape. With every piece that is added, it becomes a little clearer.

Our lives are something like that puzzle. God is patiently working, piece by piece, to make us look more like Jesus.

George Müller knew something about that kind of change. As a young man, he was known for lying, stealing, gambling, and drinking. He even spent time in jail for theft. If you had looked at his life then, you probably would not have imagined what God would make of him.

But God saved Müller and began changing him. The young man who had once taken from others eventually became known for giving his life to others. He became a pastor and spent decades caring for thousands of orphans, becoming known for his life of prayer and dependence upon God.

Not only are we forgiven by God’s grace, but we are also transformed by his grace. He transforms liars into truthtellers, he makes the selfish, generous and the proud he makes humble.

When God saves us, he justifies us. He declares us righteous because Christ’s righteousness has been credited to us. Then begins the lifelong work of sanctification. By his grace, God keeps changing the way we think, speak, respond, and live. We will not be sinless until we see Christ, but as we grow, we should sin less and look more like him.

Paul contrasts this increasing glory with the the fading glory of the Mosaic covenant. After Moses met with the Lord, his face reflected God’s glory, but that glory faded. The law could reveal sin, but it could not give sinners the power to overcome it.

The new covenant is better. Jesus fulfilled the law, paid for our sins, removed the veil, and gave us his Spirit. Now, as we behold the glory of Christ, the Holy Spirit changes us “from one degree of glory to another.”

As we stay in his Word, confess our sin, surrender to him, and keep our eyes on Christ, another piece is put into place, and the picture becomes clearer.

We are all a work in progress. Thank God, he is not finished with us yet.

The goal for today is simple: to look a little more like Jesus than we did yesterday.

Some people have a distinct scent. You can smell them coming before you ever see them. Maybe it is the cologne they wear, their lotion, their laundry detergent, or simply their own familiar smell.

That can be a good thing or a bad thing.

When it is someone you love, that familiar scent can bring comfort and awaken precious memories. I have one of my dad’s old Bibles, and sometimes I open it and take a deep breath because it still smells like him. I love and miss him greatly, so to me, it is a wonderful smell.

There may also be people whose scent produces a very different reaction. Instead of drawing closer, you feel like backing away or even running in the other direction.

Paul uses this familiar sense of smell to describe the Christian life and ministry. Behind his words was likely the picture of a Roman triumphal procession. When a victorious Roman general returned from battle, he would lead a great parade through the city. Soldiers marched in celebration, captives were led behind them, and incense burned along the route.

Victorious soldiers and captive prisoners were breathing the same air. While they would all smell the same thing, the scent meant something entirely different for each of them.

Paul says that believers are “the aroma of Christ.” God leads us in Christ’s triumphal procession, and through our lives he spreads the knowledge of Christ everywhere.

People should smell Christ when they stand next to a follower of Jesus. They should smell his grace as we forgive, his compassion as we show mercy, holiness in the choices we make, his patience in the way we respond, and his truth in the words we speak.

C. S. Lewis wrote, “Every Christian is to become a little Christ. The whole purpose of becoming a Christian is simply nothing else.”

For those who are being saved, the gospel is the fragrance of life. It is the wonderful news that Jesus died for sinners, was buried, and rose again. It offers forgiveness, reconciliation with God, and eternal life.

For those who are perishing, however, the same gospel smells like death. Jesus exposes sin and confronts pride, and that is a smell the world will resist.

Our responsibility is not to control the response. We cannot make people love the fragrance of Christ. We are simply called to wear it faithfully.

It is possible to put on too much perfume or cologne, but when it comes to Christ, you cannot smell too much like him. Let his grace, truth, holiness, and love cling to every part of your life.

It has been said that the secret to disciplining children is to break their will without breaking their spirit. The goal is to apply just the right amount of loving pressure to bring about lasting change, but not so much pressure that the child shuts down and loses hope.

There are not many stick-shift cars anymore, but those who have driven one understand the importance of balance. To get the car moving smoothly, you have to get the clutch and gas pedal tension just right. Too little gas and the car stalls. Too much gas and the engine races while everyone in the car gets whiplash.

Correction requires that same kind of balance.

What is true in parenting is also true in the church. There are times when a loving church must confront and discipline a wayward brother or sister. In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul described serious sin that could not be ignored. The church needed to take action to restore the sinner, preserve the purity of the church, and protect the entire body.

But discipline was never intended to become permanent rejection.

In this passage, Paul shows the Corinthians how to respond when correction has accomplished its purpose. The man had apparently responded with genuine sorrow and repentance. It was now time for the church to change its approach. Paul told them to forgive him, comfort him, and reaffirm their love for him.

There is a time to confront, but there is also a time to comfort.

There is a time to discipline, but there is also a time to restore.

Paul was concerned that this man might be “overwhelmed by excessive sorrow.” The word pictures someone being swallowed up or drowned by grief. His sorrow had done its work. Continuing to punish or distance themselves from him would not make him more spiritual. It might cause him to lose hope.

C. S. Lewis wrote, “To be a Christian means to forgive the inexcusable because God has forgiven the inexcusable in you.”

Restoration means more than reluctantly allowing someone to return. It means reaffirming our love. It means reminding repentant believers of their position in Christ and their place in the body. It means refusing to continually hold their past sins over their heads. When God has forgiven someone, we should not keep digging up what he has buried.

The same principle applies in parenting. After correcting a child, we should reaffirm our love and restore the relationship. Do not leave a child sitting in sorrow longer than necessary. Give them hope. Point them toward the future. Show them that failure does not have to be final and that there is a path forward through repentance and grace.

May we never forget that the purpose of biblical correction is restoration. We must apply enough loving pressure to produce change, but when that correction has done its work, we should be quick to forgive, comfort, and reaffirm our love so that no one is swallowed up by excessive sorrow.

Some sermons just stick with you. It may be the content, the circumstances you were facing when you heard it, or the way the Holy Spirit brought conviction at exactly the right moment. Whatever the reason, God used that message to produce a change in your life that you never forgot.

I heard one such sermon in 1991, when I was a student at The Master’s College. The chapel message was based on 2 Corinthians 1:3-4. I still have the cassette tape and have listened to it dozens of times.

I appreciated the content. I was inspired by the delivery and by the preacher’s passion for the passage. But more than that, the circumstances made it clear that God was speaking to me personally. I left chapel that day determined to spend my life sharing the comfort of the gospel with others.

Paul issues that challenge to all believers as he opens his second epistle to the Corinthians. Paul begins with a familiar greeting, then he immediately blesses God: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

To bless God means to speak well of him, praise him, and declare what is true about his character. Paul was not praising God because his life had been easy. Second Corinthians is one of Paul’s most personal letters. He writes openly about opposition, weakness, sorrow, persecution, and suffering. He had experienced more than his fair share of trials.

Yet Paul blesses God because he is “the Father of mercies and God of all comfort.”

The word comfort carries the idea of coming alongside someone to help, strengthen, and encourage them. God does not always keep his children from suffering, but he never leaves us to suffer alone.

It has been said that we are either in a trial, coming out of one, or preparing to enter one. That may sound discouraging, but Paul’s message is filled with hope. The trial is not the end of the story, and God will not waste it.

God comforts us so that we can comfort others.

What we have been through often equips us to help someone else get through it. The grief, disappointment, failure, loneliness, or uncertainty that once made us feel weak may become the very place where God uses us most powerfully.

Paul David Tripp titled one of his books Instruments in the Redeemer’s Hands. That is what God makes us. We become instruments through which he brings his comfort to someone else.

Most of us do not enjoy working out. It is difficult, uncomfortable, and sometimes painful. But we appreciate the strength it produces. Trials can work the same way. We may not like the process, but God uses it to strengthen us and prepare us to serve others.

What has the Lord comforted you through? How did he come alongside you? Who needs the comfort you have received?

Do not waste what God has taught you. Allow him to use you as a comforted comforter.

Many years ago, I was coaching my daughter’s softball team, and we found ourselves in a great game. Going into the final inning, the score was tied 6–6. Between innings, the other coach and I were talking, and I said, “You know what? It really doesn’t matter who wins today. This has just been a fun game.”

Then I added, “No matter who wins, I’m still going home to have lunch.”

He laughed and said, “And I’m still getting up and going to work on Monday.”

Without thinking, I replied, “And I’m still going to heaven.”

He probably thought I meant on Monday, which may have been a little confusing! That was not what I was predicting, but the comment did put everything into perspective.

Paul closes 1 Corinthians with the word Maranatha, meaning, “Our Lord, come!” It was not just a theological statement. It was the cry of a heart expecting Jesus to return. The Bible ends with that same anticipation: “Even so, come, Lord Jesus” (Revelation 22:20).

That expectation shaped the way Paul lived.

Christ’s coming shaped his generosity. He instructed the Corinthians to set aside money for suffering believers in Jerusalem. When you know this world is temporary, you can loosen your grip on temporary possessions.

Christ’s coming shaped his integrity. Paul made sure there was proper accountability with the finances so that no one could accuse him of wrong doing. Knowing he would one day stand before Christ and give an account of his stewardship of God’s money caused him to handle money carefully.

Christ’s coming gave him intensity. Paul remained in Ephesus because “a wide door for effective work” had opened, even though there were many adversaries. There was work to do, people to reach, and no time to waste.

Christ’s coming also shaped his community. Paul valued Timothy, Apollos, Stephanas, Aquila, Priscilla, and others who served alongside him. Eternity causes us to see people as precious and not as pawns.

Generosity. Integrity. Intensity. Community. That is the Maranatha life.

Perhaps we have become so anchored and tethered to this earth that we have lost our anticipation of Christ’s return. We worry about things that will not matter then and overlook things that will.

Thinking back to that softball game, I would change one thing about what I said. The game actually did matter—just not because of the final score.

It mattered because I was spending precious time with my daughter. It mattered because there were opportunities to teach her how to win and lose, what really matters, and how to treat people. It mattered because a ball field is another place to display Christ’s character.

An eternal perspective does not make this life meaningless. It shows us what gives this life meaning.

The only things that ultimately matter in this life are the things that will still matter when Christ returns. People matter. Faithfulness matters. The gospel matters. How we love, serve, give, and represent Christ matters.

Jesus is coming. So hold this world loosely, love people deeply, and use every opportunity for eternity.

Maranatha! Even so, come, Lord Jesus.

You know you are getting older when your back goes out more often than you do, and getting down on the floor requires a plan for getting back up.

Aging has a way of reminding us that these bodies will not last forever. We get tired more easily, injuries take longer to heal, and things begin to hurt that we did not even know could hurt. Every ache and pain reminds us that our present bodies are perishable, weak, and wearing out.

Paul describes this reality in 1 Corinthians 15. Our bodies are sown perishable, in dishonor, and in weakness. But they will be raised imperishable, in glory, and in power.

The dishonor Paul speaks of points us back to Adam and the entrance of sin into the world. Every one of us bears the image of the man of dust. We do not become sinners because we sin; we sin because we are sinners. Sin has affected every part of us, including the bodies God gave us to glorify him.

God gave us eyes to behold his glory, yet we sometimes look at things we should not. He gave us mouths to praise him, yet we complain, gossip, and speak carelessly. He gave us hands to serve, yet we often use them selfishly. Even as believers, we still battle temptation and sin.

There are days when we hate the fact that we continue to fail the Lord we love. We repent, ask his forgiveness, and depend upon his grace. But the battle continues.

Thankfully, that is not the end of our story.

Paul says that what is sown in dishonor will be raised in glory. God will give every believer a glorified body, perfectly suited for eternity and completely free from sin’s curse.

Certainly, it will be wonderful to have new knees, a better back, and no more aches or pains. I am personally looking forward to having a full head of hair. But the greatest part of heaven will not be what is missing from our new resurrected bodies or what will be added to them. The best part will be who we behold.

We will see Jesus.

We will see his glory, look upon the face of the One who loved us and gave himself for us, and enjoy his presence forever. As John wrote, “We shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is” (1 John 3:2).

And we will never sin against him again.

We will never speak another careless word, entertain another sinful thought, or give in to temptation. We will never again need to confess that we have failed our Savior. Every thought, word, action, and desire will glorify him perfectly.

J. C. Ryle wrote, “The believer’s best things are yet to come.” That is certainly true of our resurrection. This body will not last forever, but because Jesus lives, we will be raised in glory.

What was your favorite toy when you were growing up?

Do you remember when you finally packed away your Polly Pockets, Barbie dolls, Matchbox cars, or baseball cards? For me, it was G.I. Joe. We loved them and then one day, without much thought, we outgrew them.

That is a normal part of growing up. We outgrow clothes, toys, games, and sometimes even the music we once thought was magical. I recently heard an old 80s tunes and wondered what I was thinking.

But there is one thing a Christian must never outgrow: the gospel.

One of my favorite songs right now is called “The Simple Gospel.” I love that title because the gospel really is simple. It is not shallow, but it is clear.

Jesus died for our sins.

He was buried.

He rose again.

That is the gospel.

The Corinthians had drifted from the basics. They had become distracted by personalities, arguments, spiritual gifts, pride, and many secondary issues. They had not necessarily abandoned the gospel, but they had stopped keeping it at the center.

So Paul writes, “Now I would remind you, brothers, of the gospel.”

They did not need a newer message. They needed to return to the message they had already received. Paul calls it a matter “of first importance.” In other words, keep the main thing the main thing.

Jerry Bridges wrote, “The gospel is not only the most important message in all of history; it is the only essential message in all of history.”

Paul explains that message clearly.

Christ died for our sins. He did not merely die as an example of courage or love. He died in our place. He bore the judgment we deserved and paid the debt we could never pay.

He was buried. Joseph of Arimathea claimed the body of Jesus and placed it in his own new tomb. A large stone was rolled across the entrance. The tomb was sealed, and guards were stationed there. Jesus was truly dead and buried.

Then, on the third day, He rose again.

The stone, the seal, and the soldiers could not hold the Son of God. The tomb was empty. Death was defeated. Jesus was seen alive by many witnesses. Because He rose, everyone who belongs to Him will also rise.

That is the simple gospel, and we never move beyond it.

We may grow in our knowledge of Scripture. We may learn theology, serve in ministry, teach others, and follow Christ for many years. But we never graduate from the cross and the empty tomb.

The danger is not that the gospel becomes too familiar. The danger is that we forget how much we still need it. We can become so involved in religious activity that we stop resting in what Christ has done. We can take forgiveness for granted. We can speak often about the gospel while rarely stopping to rejoice in it.

There are things we have all outgrown, but we must never outgrow the gospel.

Rod Stewart recorded an old song called “Forever Young.” In the Christian life, that can be both a good thing and a bad thing. There are some qualities of childhood that we should never outgrow. We should remain humble, trusting, teachable, and dependent upon our heavenly Father. Jesus said that we must become like children to enter the kingdom of heaven.

But the Bible calls us to be childlike, not childish.

Paul told the Corinthians, “Be infants in evil, but in your thinking be mature.” Sadly, the Corinthian church had reversed the command. They were immature in their thinking but far too experienced in sin. They were not infants in evil. They were experts, seasoned veterans.

Corinth was a carnal city, and much of that carnality had made its way into the church. In 1 Corinthians 5, Paul confronted shocking sexual immorality, jealousy and division were pulling the church apart and even the Lord’s Supper had become marked by selfishness. It has been said this way, “the church was in the world as it ought to be, but the world was also in the church as it ought not be.”

They knew far too much about pride, immorality, bitterness, competition, and selfish living.

Paul was telling them, “You need to grow up in your thinking and become inexperienced in evil.” A newborn baby is not skilled in sinning and in the same way, Christians should not become practiced in sin. We should not become experts at hiding wrongdoing, holding grudges and excusing selfish behavior. There are some things we should never become good at. Romans 16:19 says, “I want you to be wise as to what is good and innocent as to what is evil.”

But Paul also says, “In your thinking be mature.” Christians are not called to be ignorant, naïve, or gullible. We need to learn to think biblically and recognize the difference between truth and error. Hebrews 5:14 says that mature believers have trained their powers of discernment to distinguish good from evil.

That was especially important in Corinth. They had spiritual gifts, but they often lacked spiritual maturity. Paul wanted them to use both their hearts and their minds in worship and service. He would rather speak five understandable words that helped others than ten thousand words that impressed people but left them confused.

Charles Spurgeon called it “a childhood which is not childish but child-like.” Paul is calling us to keep a childlike heart while growing up in the way we think. Trust God like a child, but learn to think with wisdom and maturity.

Do not become an experienced sinner with an immature mind. Grow in your understanding of God’s Word while remaining inexperienced in evil. That is what it means to be innocent but not immature.

When my son CJ was in college, we planned what we called an “urban backpacking trip” from Lancaster to Sacramento. We carried our backpacks and intended to make the entire trip using trains, buses, and public transportation.

We began by taking the Metrolink into Los Angeles. Early the next morning, I went for a run through downtown LA. Somewhere along the way, I lost my driver’s license, which I needed to board the train that travels up the California coast from Union Station.

The search for my license delayed us. By the time we headed toward Union Station, we were running late. We hurried down a road torn up by construction with our backpacks bouncing behind us. Somewhere along the way, I twisted my ankle. We finally had to catch a taxi for the last half mile.

But we made it.

We were striving. We exerted every bit of energy we had because we had a destination we were determined to reach.

Paul uses that kind of language in 1 Corinthians 14:12 when he tells the Corinthians to “strive to excel in building up the church.” The word strive describes eagerness, effort, and determination. Paul was not calling believers to coast through church life. He wanted them to eagerly use everything God had given them for the spiritual good of others.

The Corinthians were eager for spiritual gifts, especially the gift of tongues. I believe the gift of tongues, as demonstrated in Acts 2, was the supernatural ability to speak an earthly language the speaker had never learned. On the day of Pentecost, people from many nations heard the mighty works of God proclaimed in their own languages.

Faithful believers may not agree on every detail concerning spiritual gifts. However, we must agree about their purpose. Spiritual gifts were not given for personal gain, spiritual status, or self-promotion. They were given for the good of Christ’s body.

The Corinthians had plenty of enthusiasm, but their enthusiasm needed direction. Paul did not tell them to stop being eager. He told them to direct their eagerness toward the right destination: the edification of the church.

That is Paul’s repeated concern throughout this chapter. Does what happens in the church build people up? Does it help them understand God’s truth? Does it strengthen their faith and encourage them to keep following Christ?

William Kelly wrote, “What astonishes is far less important for the spiritual mind than what edifies.”

The goal of spiritual gifts is not display but edification. This principle reaches beyond what happens during a worship service. Our words can build people up. Our prayers can strengthen someone who is struggling. Our service can lighten another person’s load. Our encouragement can help someone take another step of faith.

CJ and I were determined to reach Union Station and board that train. We ran, struggled, and even took a taxi, but we made it to our destination.

We also have a destination worth striving toward in the church. Do not merely attend church, but strive to strengthen it.

Years ago, a neighbor questioned the wisdom of a shirt I was wearing; it said, “Our God Is an Awesome God.” He wondered whether the word awesome had become too common to describe the God of the universe. After all, we use the same word for God that we use for a new pair of tennis shoes.

His point was simple: words can lose their impact when they are overused.

The same thing has happened to the word love. We love pizza, vacations, sports teams, and comfortable shoes. Then we say we love God, our families, and the people in our church. The word gets stretched so wide that it can become difficult to know what love really means.

That is why 1 Corinthians 13 is so important. This chapter is commonly read at weddings, and it certainly applies to marriage. But Paul originally wrote these words to a divided church. The Corinthians were rich in spiritual gifts, but poor in love. Their gifts, which God intended to build up the church, had become sources of pride, comparison, and conflict.

Paul showed them “a more excellent way.”

The less excellent way is to use our gifts to draw attention to ourselves. It is insisting on our preferences, keeping score of offenses, assuming the worst about people, and giving up when relationships become difficult. The more excellent way is love.

Biblical love is not merely something we feel. It is something we do. Someone has wisely said, “Love is not love until you give it away.” Love becomes visible through loving actions.

Love is patient when someone is moving more slowly than we would like. Love is kind when harshness would be easier. Love celebrates the success of others without envy and serves without needing recognition.

Love does not insist on always having its own way. It watches its words because everything that could be said does not need to be said. Love speaks the truth, but always speaks it with grace.

Love refuses to keep a running record of offenses. It protects, rather than needlessly exposes. It gives others the benefit of the doubt, instead of assigning the worst possible motive. Love hopes because it believes God is still working. Love endures because it refuses to abandon people when loving them becomes costly.

The good news is that God does not merely command us to love this way and then leave us to produce it on our own. Romans 5:5 says that “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” We can display this kind of love because God has deposited his love into our hearts. We love because he first loved us.

Today, do not merely think about love. Give it away. Make the call. Offer forgiveness. Speak encouragement. There is a more excellent way to live life, and it is the way of love.

Imagine someone walking into church on Sunday who is nothing but a giant eyeball. No arms. No legs. No ears. Just one enormous eyeball bouncing its way down the aisle and somehow settling into a seat. A handshake would mean a poke in the eye for the poor guy.

It is a ridiculous picture, but that is exactly Paul’s point.

“If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell?” (1 Corinthians 12:17).

God never intended every believer to look the same. The beauty of the church is not found in uniformity, but in many different members working together as one body.

The Corinthian believers had become overly impressed with certain spiritual gifts. Some people felt superior because their gifts were more noticeable. Others felt insignificant because their gifts seemed less important.

Paul corrects both attitudes.

First, no believer should belittle their own place in the body. The foot cannot say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body.” Second, no believer should belittle someone else. The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you.”

Both attitudes reject God’s design.

Spiritual gifts are not talents we choose for ourselves. Paul says that the Holy Spirit “apportions to each one individually as he wills” (1 Corinthians 12:11). Your gift was personally and wisely distributed by the Spirit of God.

That means you do not need to envy someone else’s gift, and you should not become proud of your own. You did not earn it or create it. You received it from God.

Spiritual gifts are also not given for personal attention or self-promotion. Paul says, “To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good” (1 Corinthians 12:7).

Your gift is not merely for you. It is God’s gift to the church through you.

Some gifts are visible from a platform. Others operate quietly behind the scenes. Both are necessary.

Think about your physical body. Your heart, lungs, and kidneys never appear publicly, but you would quickly discover how important they are if they stopped functioning.

When believers refuse to serve because their role does not seem important, the entire body feels the effect. It is like having a paralyzed limb. The rest of the body must work harder to compensate for the member that is not functioning.

The church is not a collection of spectators. It is a living body in which every member matters.

Alistair Begg writes, “Our gifts differ, but we all have them, and every gift is good, necessary, and integral to the life of the body.”

We are not all eyeballs, and thankfully, God never intended us to be.

If you have ever gone to a buffet, you know there is a strategy. You do not fill up on rice because it is nearly impossible to eat thirty dollars’ worth of rice. You start with the steak, wear an elastic waistband, show up hungry, and, as a friend of mine likes to say, “Make ’em pay.”

That kind of thinking may be harmless at a buffet, but it becomes a serious problem when it shows up in the church. While there has probably been a little hoarding at more than a few church potlucks over the years and it can be somewhat humorous, what was happening in Corinth was not funny.

When I was growing up, we always shared a meal as part of communion. We called it a “love feast.” We ate a simple meal, shared testimonies about what the Lord was doing, and then took the bread and the cup together.

The early church apparently did something similar. Believers shared a common meal, often called an “agape meal” or “love feast,” in connection with the Lord’s Supper. It was intended to express their love and unity in Christ, but in Corinth, the love feast had lost its love.

The wealthy brought plenty of food but did not share it with those who had little. Some ate until they were full while others went hungry. Some even became drunk. Instead of considering one another, everyone was looking out for himself.

Paul told them, “When you come together, it is not for the better but for the worse” (1 Corinthians 11:17). Their behavior was so contrary to the meaning of communion that Paul said it was not really the Lord’s Supper at all.

There was a tragic irony: they were filling themselves while remembering the One who emptied himself. They were thinking only about themselves while remembering the Savior who saw our desperate need and gave his life for us.

Communion celebrates the most unselfish act in human history.

Jesus said, “This is my body, which is for you.” The bread reminds us that his body was given for us, and the cup reminds us that his blood was shed for the forgiveness of our sins. At the Lord’s Table, we look back to the cross and forward to his return as we “proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1 Corinthians 11:26).

That is why Paul tells us to examine ourselves. Communion is not for perfect people. It is for forgiven sinners, but we should not celebrate Christ’s sacrifice while refusing to deal with selfishness, pride, bitterness, or division in our hearts.

As J. C. Ryle said, “A giving Savior ought to have giving disciples.”

So when we come to the Lord’s Table, we should not only remember Christ. We should also consider one another. Communion reminds us that because Christ gave himself for us, we should gladly give ourselves for others.

Sometimes we approach difficult passages of Scripture like amateur plastic surgeons. We cut away what we do not like and reshape what makes us uncomfortable. But God’s Word does not need our improvements. The difficult passages are just as inspired as the beloved ones.

First Corinthians 11 is one of those difficult passages. Paul discusses head coverings, hair length, authority, submission, men, and women. Some details belonged to the culture of Corinth, but the truth beneath them is rooted in God’s created order.

Our passage begins with, “The head of every man is Christ.” This means no man is his own ultimate authority. Every husband, father, pastor, and leader lives under the lordship of Jesus. Before a man thinks about anyone submitting to him, he must remember that he is called to submit to Christ, knowing that God will hold him accountable.

Paul continues, “The head of a wife is her husband.” This does not mean every man is the head of every woman. Scripture calls a wife to recognize the headship of her own husband within marriage. Headship means that the husband bears the primary responsibility before God to lovingly lead his home in a God-glorifying direction.

Headship in the home is not superiority or domination. It does not give a husband permission to be controlling, harsh, selfish, or demanding. It gives him a greater responsibility to serve, sacrifice, listen, protect, and lead like Christ. Biblical headship is not a throne from which a man gives orders. It is a cross he willingly carries for the good of his family.

Submission, as I once heard it defined, is one equal willingly placing themself under another equal for a good and proper purpose. Jesus is eternally equal with the Father, yet he willingly submitted to the Father’s will. In Gethsemane, he prayed, “Not my will, but yours, be done” (Luke 22:42).

Jesus’s submission in no way diminished his glory; rather, it put his humble submission on display.

In the same way, men and women are equal in value, dignity, worth, and standing before God. Both bear God’s image. Both receive salvation by grace. And neither is spiritually superior. Yet equality does not eliminate order.

Head coverings in Corinth put on display a respect for God’s order in marriage. Head coverings do not communicate the same message in our culture today. Hair length also carried cultural meaning related to the visible distinction between men and women. The symbol may change, but the principle does not. God’s order is rooted in creation, not merely in Corinthian fashion.

William MacDonald wrote, “Subjection does not mean inferiority.” Paul also reminds us that men and women are mutually dependent and that ultimately “all things are from God” (vv. 11–12).

John Piper wrote, “Marriage exists to magnify the truth and worth and beauty and greatness of God.” Marriage is part of God’s divine design, intended to display his wisdom, beauty, and glory.

Rather than reshaping Scripture to fit us, may we allow Scripture to reshape us so that our lives and marriages display the beauty of his divine design.

Most of us do not carry a compass anymore. We just pull out our iPhone, type in an address, and let the little blue line tell us where to go. We do not even have to know which direction is north. We just listen for the voice that says, “Turn right in 500 feet.”

Modern technology may have made the physical compass less necessary, but we still need a compass for our spiritual lives. On a compass, true north is the fixed direction that helps you know where you are and where you are going. In the Christian life, the glory of God is our true north. It is the fixed point that helps guides every decision.

We all make many choices every day, and the right direction is not always obvious. The Bible does not give us a specific verse telling us which car to buy, what movie to watch, or how to spend every free hour. Many decisions require discernment.

1 Corinthians 10:31 gives us our spiritual true north: “Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.”

The Westminster Shorter Catechism asks, “What is the chief end of man?” The answer is, “Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him forever.”

We were made for God’s glory. That is our purpose, and it should guide every decision we make.

The Corinthians had questions about Christian liberty. They wanted to know what they were allowed to do. We often ask the same question: “Is this a sin?” That is an important question, but it is not the only question. Paul gives us several questions to help us make wise choices.

First, is it profitable?

Paul writes, “All things are lawful, but not all things are helpful.” Something may not be sinful, but it could weaken us, distract us, or hurt someone else.

Second, is it prohibited?

When God has spoken clearly in his Word, we do not need to keep looking for another route.

Third, does it fit my purpose?

Can I honestly ask God to be glorified through this choice? Can I thank him for it and ask for his blessing on it? We were not made simply to please ourselves. We were made to glorify God.

Finally, does it follow the pattern of Christ?

Paul says, “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.” Jesus did not live for himself. He lived to please his Father and serve others. That should shape our decisions too.

When the way forward is unclear, check your spiritual compass. Is it profitable? Is it prohibited? Does it fit my purpose? Does it follow the pattern of Christ?

The goal is not simply to see what we can get away with. The goal is to keep our lives pointed toward the glory of God.

Thomas Manton wrote, “All that we are, do, and have, must be to please and glorify God.” That is true north for the Christian life.

The apostle Paul must have been a sports fan. At least, that is what I like to think. As a sports fan myself, that may be wishful thinking, but Paul understood athletics. You may not be a sports fan, but we can all learn from athletes. Here, Paul pictures a runner, a disciplined competitor, and a boxer.

No athlete has ever won a competition by accident. Nobody shows up at the Olympic Games carrying nachos and says, “I think I’ll win a gold medal today.” Serious athletes train, sacrifice, and stay focused on the prize.

Paul writes, “So run that you may obtain it.” The prize Paul is talking about is not salvation. Salvation is God’s free gift, received through faith in Jesus Christ. The prize is the eternal reward awaiting faithful service. In ancient athletic competitions, a wreath of leaves was given that soon withered, but believers are running for an imperishable crown.

C. T. Studd wrote, “Only one life, ’twill soon be past; only what’s done for Christ will last.”

That prize demands discipline. Paul says, “Every athlete exercises self-control in all things” (verse 25). Athletes discipline their eating, schedules, and desires because they have a greater goal in mind. If they sacrifice so much for a perishable earthly reward, how much more should we discipline ourselves for one that lasts forever?

Spiritual discipline includes reading God’s Word and praying daily. It also involves saying no to sinful desires, guarding our thoughts, and refusing to let anything into our lives that does not nourish us spiritually. Athletes know how to say no to themselves, and Christians need to learn to do the same.

Paul says he did not run aimlessly. A runner without a clear course or finish line may expend energy but never reach the goal. Paul knew where he was headed and wanted every step to move him toward faithfulness to Christ.

He also said he did not box as one “beating the air.” A boxer who swings wildly without aiming quickly becomes exhausted while accomplishing nothing. Paul did not want a busy but ineffective life. His choices had purpose, his effort had direction, and his eyes were fixed on the prize.

Thankfully, we do not run alone. God is faithful, and 1 Corinthians 10:13 promises that no temptation is irresistible. He limits temptation and provides a way to endure without surrendering to it.

So stay focused, discipline your desires, and keep your eyes on Christ. There is a finish line, an imperishable prize, and by God’s grace, you can run to win, “...for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come” (1 Timothy 4:8).

One morning, I was getting dressed when I noticed writing inside the pocket of a pair of jeans. I had worn those jeans for weeks and somehow had never seen it.

The message said, “You know who you are, what you want and what to do. It’s you being you. You were born an original. You’re here to be you.”

I thought, Wow, that is quite a sermon from a pair of pants.

But that message is not unique to the clothing industry. It is the message our culture preaches every day: Be yourself. Do what makes you happy. Put yourself first. Live for you.

That is the gospel of the world, but not the gospel of Christ.

In 1 Corinthians 8, Paul called believers to show deference toward one another. There are times when love limits our liberty. Even when we have the freedom to do something, we should willingly surrender that freedom when it serves someone else.

Of course, talk is cheap. It is easy to tell others to sacrifice while protecting our own privileges. “Do as I say, not as I do” has never been a convincing philosophy of life or ministry.

So Paul put his money where his mouth was.

As an apostle, Paul had the right to receive financial support. He pointed to soldiers, farmers, shepherds, oxen treading grain, and priests serving at the altar. In every case, those who labor have a right to share in the fruit of their work. Jesus Himself taught that those who preach the gospel should receive their living from the gospel (1 Corinthians 9:14).

When it came to Corinth, Paul voluntarily surrendered that right. He worked with his own hands rather than accept payment because he did not want anyone accusing him of preaching merely for money. He would endure hardship before allowing his rights to become an obstacle to the gospel.

Paul was not merely telling the Corinthians to surrender their rights for others. He was showing them how it was done. His example gave weight to his words. Later he would tell them, “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ” (1 Corinthians 11:1).

J. C. Ryle wrote, “Your children will seldom learn habits which they see you despise, or walk in paths in which you do not walk yourself.”

That is true for pastors, parents, teachers, and every believer. Leadership gains credibility when our lives match our message. Parents cannot expect their children to value prayer, Scripture, honesty, kindness, or church if those things are missing from their own lives. We cannot demand one standard from others while excusing ourselves from it.

No leader is perfect, but every leader should be perfectly honest when they fall short. When we teach truth, we should strive to live it. People tend to do what we do more than what we say.

Paul did not simply preach sacrifice. He practiced it. May our lives make the gospel we proclaim more believable, not less.