The Edification of the Saints part5
The Edifying Quality of Right Understanding
Paul then finds an argument in the Old Testament. We have seen over and over again how Rabbinic interpretation—and Paul was a trained Rabbi—can find in the Old Testament hidden meanings which were certainly not originally there. He goes back to Isaiah 28:9–12. God, through his prophet, is threatening the people. Isaiah has preached to them in their own Hebrew language and they have not listened. Because of their disobedience, the Assyrians will come and conquer them and occupy their cities, and then they will have to listen to language which they cannot understand. They will have to listen to the foreign tongues of their conquerors speaking unintelligible things; and not even that terrible experience will make an unbelieving people turn to God. So, Paul uses the argument that tongues were meant for a hard-hearted and unbelieving people and were, in the end, ineffective to them.
Then he uses a very practical argument. If any stranger, or any uninitiated person, came into a Christian assembly where everyone was pouring out a flood of unintelligible sounds, that person would think that the place was a mad house. But if the truth of God was being soberly and intelligibly proclaimed, the result would be very different. Newcomers would be brought face to face with themselves and with God.
PAUL is still dealing with this question of speaking with tongues. He begins with an appeal to the Corinthians not to be childish. This passion for and over-evaluation of speaking with tongues is really a kind of childish ostentation.
Paul then finds an argument in the Old Testament. We have seen over and over again how Rabbinic interpretation—and Paul was a trained Rabbi—can find in the Old Testament hidden meanings which were certainly not originally there. He goes back to Isaiah 28:9–12. God, through his prophet, is threatening the people. Isaiah has preached to them in their own Hebrew language and they have not listened. Because of their disobedience, the Assyrians will come and conquer them and occupy their cities, and then they will have to listen to language which they cannot understand. They will have to listen to the foreign tongues of their conquerors speaking unintelligible things; and not even that terrible experience will make an unbelieving people turn to God. So, Paul uses the argument that tongues were meant for a hard-hearted and unbelieving people and were, in the end, ineffective to them.
Then he uses a very practical argument. If any stranger, or any uninitiated person, came into a Christian assembly where everyone was pouring out a flood of unintelligible sounds, that person would think that the place was a mad house. But if the truth of God was being soberly and intelligibly proclaimed, the result would be very different. Newcomers would be brought face to face with themselves and with God.
PAUL is still dealing with this question of speaking with tongues. He begins with an appeal to the Corinthians not to be childish. This passion for and over-evaluation of speaking with tongues is really a kind of childish ostentation.
Paul then finds an argument in the Old Testament. We have seen over and over again how Rabbinic interpretation—and Paul was a trained Rabbi—can find in the Old Testament hidden meanings which were certainly not originally there. He goes back to Isaiah 28:9–12. God, through his prophet, is threatening the people. Isaiah has preached to them in their own Hebrew language and they have not listened. Because of their disobedience, the Assyrians will come and conquer them and occupy their cities, and then they will have to listen to language which they cannot understand. They will have to listen to the foreign tongues of their conquerors speaking unintelligible things; and not even that terrible experience will make an unbelieving people turn to God. So, Paul uses the argument that tongues were meant for a hard-hearted and unbelieving people and were, in the end, ineffective to them.
Then he uses a very practical argument. If any stranger, or any uninitiated person, came into a Christian assembly where everyone was pouring out a flood of unintelligible sounds, that person would think that the place was a mad house. But if the truth of God was being soberly and intelligibly proclaimed, the result would be very different. Newcomers would be brought face to face with themselves and with God.
Verses 24–5 give us a vivid summary of what happens when the truth of God is intelligibly proclaimed.
(1) It convicts men and women of their sin. They see what they are, and are appalled. Alcibiades, the spoilt darling of Athens, was a friend of Socrates, and sometimes he used to say to him: ‘Socrates, I hate you, for every time I meet you, you make me see what I am.’ ‘Come’, said the woman of Samaria in shamed amazement, ‘and see a man who told me everything I have ever done!’ (John 4:29). The first thing the message of God does is to make people realize that they are sinners.
(2) It brings men and women under judgment. They see that they must answer for what they have done. So far, they may have lived life with no thought of its end. They may have followed the impulses of the day and seized its pleasures. But now they see that the day has an ending, and there stands God.
(3) It shows men and women the secrets of their own hearts. The last thing we face is our own hearts. As the proverb has it, ‘There are none so blind as those who will not see.’ The Christian message compels us to have that searing, humiliating honesty which will face our true selves.
(4) It brings men and women to their knees before God. All Christianity begins as we approach God’s presence on our knees. The gateway to that presence is so low that we can enter it only upon our knees. When we have faced God and faced ourselves, all that is left for us to do is to kneel and to pray: ‘God be merciful to me, a sinner.’
The test of any act of worship is: ‘Does it make us feel the presence of God?’ The American Congregationalist Joseph Twitchell tells how he went to visit his fellow minister Horace Bushnell when Bushnell was an old man. At night, Bushnell took him out for a walk on the hillside. As they walked in the dark, suddenly Bushnell said: ‘Let us kneel and pray,’ and they did. Twitchell, telling of it afterwards, said: ‘I was afraid to stretch out my hand in the darkness in case I should touch God.’ When we feel as near to God as that, we have really and truly shared in an act of worship.
The Corinthians are exhorted to have a mature evaluation of the gifts by keeping in view a passage from Isaiah (the term Law is used by Paul, as it was among the rabbis, to refer to any part of the Old Testament). In context (Isa. 28:11–12) these words come in response to the mocking of the form of speech used by the prophet to convey God’s message. In turn Isaiah promises that since Israel will not listen to the Lord’s word in their own language, they will hear the message that his judgment has come upon them spoken by men of strange tongues, and even then they will not listen readily. In this sense “tongues, then, are a sign, not for believers but for unbelievers” (v. 22), as a display of God’s power sent with the intention that when they are at last understood they may also convict. Prophecy’s true purpose, however, is to instruct and speedily convict those who believe in its words.
The application of this interpretative insight to the exercise of tongues and prophecy in the Corinthian worship service is made. If the church gathers and “everyone speaks in tongues,” when others come in (whether they enter simply seeking an understanding of the faith or the confirmation of their disbelief) they will not readily listen to sounds they do not understand, but attribute them instead to a temporary insanity (v. 23; see also Acts 2:13–15). But if, in the same circumstances, prophecy is being exercised, then the message of conviction will be immediately understood and repentance, worship, and confession will surely follow.
Verses 24–5 give us a vivid summary of what happens when the truth of God is intelligibly proclaimed.
(1) It convicts men and women of their sin. They see what they are, and are appalled. Alcibiades, the spoilt darling of Athens, was a friend of Socrates, and sometimes he used to say to him: ‘Socrates, I hate you, for every time I meet you, you make me see what I am.’ ‘Come’, said the woman of Samaria in shamed amazement, ‘and see a man who told me everything I have ever done!’ (John 4:29). The first thing the message of God does is to make people realize that they are sinners.
(2) It brings men and women under judgment. They see that they must answer for what they have done. So far, they may have lived life with no thought of its end. They may have followed the impulses of the day and seized its pleasures. But now they see that the day has an ending, and there stands God.
(3) It shows men and women the secrets of their own hearts. The last thing we face is our own hearts. As the proverb has it, ‘There are none so blind as those who will not see.’ The Christian message compels us to have that searing, humiliating honesty which will face our true selves.
(4) It brings men and women to their knees before God. All Christianity begins as we approach God’s presence on our knees. The gateway to that presence is so low that we can enter it only upon our knees. When we have faced God and faced ourselves, all that is left for us to do is to kneel and to pray: ‘God be merciful to me, a sinner.’
The test of any act of worship is: ‘Does it make us feel the presence of God?’ The American Congregationalist Joseph Twitchell tells how he went to visit his fellow minister Horace Bushnell when Bushnell was an old man. At night, Bushnell took him out for a walk on the hillside. As they walked in the dark, suddenly Bushnell said: ‘Let us kneel and pray,’ and they did. Twitchell, telling of it afterwards, said: ‘I was afraid to stretch out my hand in the darkness in case I should touch God.’ When we feel as near to God as that, we have really and truly shared in an act of worship.
The Edifying Quality of Right Unity
During the 1960 Olympics, defending gold medalist Al Oerter and teammate Rink Babka were expected to take the gold and silver medal in the discus throw. Although Babka was very ill the night before the competition he beat his teammate in the first four throws. On the fifth throw Oerter stepped into the circle, spun around, and threw the discus farther than any other that day. He had snatched victory from defeat and won the gold medal, while Babka took the silver. What no one knew until later was that Babka had noticed and pointed out a flaw in Oerter’s technique during the fourth throw. A small adjustment was all Oerter needed, and it cost Babka the gold medal. Babka was not the winner that year, but no one could call him a loser.1361