All-In

All-In

2.7.21 [1 Corinthians 9:16-23] River of Life (5th Sunday after Epiphany)

The investors on ABC’s TV show “Shark Tank” are not only rich and successful individuals from various industries, but they also tend to be shrewd and insightful. They see things others do not. When they see something they like, they strike without hesitation. Every once in a while, all the sharks see the possibilities in a certain person’s pitch or product and they all pounce at once. But there are also plenty of times when the activity is conspicuously absent; when not a single shark is biting. Sometimes, it’s because someone has a kind of neat product that can never really translate into a business. Other times, it’s because someone walks in with a sky-high idea of what their company is worth and the sharks don’t agree with the valuation. But there are people who walk in and have a great pitch, a great product or service, a solid-track record of previous sales, and a realistic valuation and leave without getting a single offer. Why? Because they aren’t “all-in”. The product they brought in is something they came up with in their spare-time and they’ve still got a full-time gig somewhere else. I’m sure there are exceptions to the rule, but for the most part when an aspiring entrepreneur uses phrases like side-hustle, part-time, or makes excuses about why they can’t be “all in” right now, the last words they hear are “and for that reason, I’m out.”

That conclusion makes sense to us. How good of an idea can you have, if you seem to be hedging your bets? How much can you really believe in your product or service or idea if it’s not all you’re doing?

Believe it or not, that very commercially-minded question was actually a huge problem for Paul in his ministry to the Christians at Corinth. As crazy as it may sound to you and me today, the Corinthians had concerns about whether or not the Apostle Paul was “all-in”.

The Corinthians had their reservations about Paul because he didn’t seem to meet their expectations in person.

When he spoke, he was not (1 Cor. 1:17) as eloquent or as wise as they hoped. This is an Apostle of the Christ? they murmured. He doesn’t seem powerful or persuasive. He hardly even baptizes anyone! He is not as polished as the orators in the marketplace or even as impressive as other Christian leaders like Peter or Apollos.

Then they ran into Paul in the Corinthian marketplace. Crowds were not hanging on his every word, rather he was doing the blue-collar work of tent-making. (Acts 18:1-5) Alongside fellow believers Aquila and Priscilla, Paul wove goats’ har into cloth for tents. He spent his days cutting leather, patching holes, and hemming material for his customers.

For the Corinthians it was hard to see that this tent-maker in the marketplace was also a bonafide Apostle. After all, when Jesus called Peter and James and John they left behind their successful fishing business to be a mouthpiece for the Lord. If Paul were like them, why wouldn’t he behave like them? To the Corinthians, Paul might have known more about Jesus than most, but, at best, he was an amateur apostle.

In our day and age, this accusation is hard to appreciate, because we have the opposite problem. Our culture, and really our world, is full of examples of charlatan Christians. High profile preachers who speak to packed houses about the blessings God wants to pour out upon his people if they just have enough faith and contribute enough “seed money” to that preacher’s specific ministry. Plenty of men and women have built commercial empires upon the name of Christ but have emptied his cross of its power to convict and save. We are not wrong to dismiss those kinds of ministers—at least after we have heard their empty prosperity gospel, (Gal. 1:7) which is no Gospel at all.

Where we tend to zig, the Corinthians zagged. Corinth thought more like our big East Coast cities. If someone was worth listening to, they ought to be much more polished and professional, persuasive and impressive. A real teacher would be a man of deep wisdom. They felt that if Paul wasn’t successful enough to even feed himself through his teaching and preaching, he must not really be an Apostle.

But that wasn’t Corinth’s only problem with Paul. Paul was the first to point out the hypocrisy and the danger of the Corinthian Christians eating cultic meals that were a part of worshiping the Greco-Roman idols. But as they watched Paul, they saw someone who was ever-changing. When he ate with the Jews in town, he spoke in Aramaic, he observed kosher dietary rules, and he spoke of Jesus as the long awaited Messiah, the priest greater than Melchizedek and Aaron, the prophet that surpassed Moses, the King who sits on David’s throne for eternity. The next day, they’d see him bellying up with the pagans, discussing the Greek poets and philosophers, and saying that circumcision was nothing at all. That there (Romans 3:22) was no difference between Jews and Gentiles, and pointing to Jesus as (Rom. 3:22) righteousness apart from the Law.

It’s easy to see why this might confuse Corinth. They thought of Paul as a kind of contradictory, a social chameleon. Someone who said what was popular to the company he was keeping at the moment.

So our text this morning, from 1st Corinthians 9:16-23 is Paul’s defense of his preaching and his lifestyle. Paul tells us that he is (1 Cor. 9:16) compelled to preach. But not for a paycheck. Rather God’s grace took Paul captive on the road to Damascus. Paul was (2 Cor. 5:14) compelled by Christ’s love. Paul was God’s (Acts 9:15) chosen instrument, (Gal 1:15-16) called by God’s grace, to preach Christ among the Gentiles. Paul acknowledges that as an Apostle of Jesus Christ he has the right to receive material support for his ministry. But he chose, (1 Cor. 9:17) voluntarily, to (1 Cor. 9:18) preach the Gospel free of charge so that the free and undeserved nature of God’s love might be crystal clear. What the Corinthians considered “disqualifying” was actually a testament to Paul’s devotion!

But Paul wasn’t just focused on what his preaching meant to him. He was consumed with how it impacted his hearers. (1 Cor. 9:20-22) To the Jews, he became like a Jew because he wanted to win them over to Christ. To those under the law, and those without the law, and even the weak, I I have lived like them and taken up whatever customs do not contradict the law of God so that I might relate to them and relay to them (1 Cor. 1:23) Christ crucified. (1 Cor. 9:19) I have made myself a slave to everyone to win as many as possible. (1 Cor. 9:23) I do this all for the sake of the Gospel. Paul was living what Jesus commanded his disciples to be and do. (Mt. 16:24-25) Whoever wants to be my disciples must deny themselves, lose their life for me, take up their cross and follow me. Paul also recognized that this sacrifice wouldn’t mean winning over every single person he came across. But his self-denial would be a powerful co-witness to who Christ was and what he had done.

And when you listen to Paul carefully, in these verses, it makes the Corinthian suspicions almost laughable. They thought Paul was an amateur because he wasn’t getting paid. He told them: No, this was a calculated choice to let the free nature of grace burn all the more brightly. They thought Paul was a chameleon because he was always adapting. He told them: No, because I am under Christ’s law I have made myself a slave to everyone. I share Jesus’ love and concern for them and I will go to great lengths that they might know why Christ was crucified for them. How much more “all-in” could Paul be?

But we’re not here to laugh at the Corinthians. Because Paul’s all-in-ness ought to compel us to take a long hard look in the mirror of the law. Have we heard Christ’s command to deny ourselves, to lose important parts of our lives for him, so that we might play a part in some being saved? Are you really “all-in”?

Does feeding and growing your faith take first priority in your life? Or are you getting by on leftovers?

Have you constructed a false kind of firewall between your spiritual self and your regular self? Do you adopt one set of values and goals when you’re at church and have another set for the rest of life? Do you find yourself thinking, speaking, and acting in ways that directly contradict your faith?

Are you making yourself a servant to as many as possible so that they might be saved through your efforts? Far too many of us are like Goldilocks when it comes to evangelism. We are too picky. This one’s too hot. That one’s too cold. When I run across someone just right, I’ll tell them about my church.

But what do we mean by someone who is “just right”? More times than not, we mean just like us, or just like someone else we already know who goes to church with us. This is why we look at people who are a little rough around the edges, but deep down we think they’re “good people”, as the only ones that we’re called to share the Gospel with. We seek out people that just seem unhappy with their church and tell them we’ve got one we like.

Listen, I’m not saying you shouldn’t share the Gospel with your friends. You should. But you shouldn’t limit yourself to just that pool. But more often than not we do. We look at people who have different—and sinful—lifestyles and worldviews and we determine we’ll never be able to reach them. We tell ourselves sharing the Gospel with that foul-mouthed co-worker, that drug addict, or some career criminal would be a waste of time. We convince ourselves that the nice, gay couple down the street could never come to accept that their concept of love is not God’s and that what they’re so proud of is actually to their shame. We tell ourselves that the Mormon guy at work is never going to be dissuaded from his view that being a good person is what gets you into heaven, so why even try? We’re not even really sure what the Buddhist believes, so where would we even start? We haven’t even preached the Gospel! Instead we’ve let our deeply held characterizations of this or that kind of person and our suspicions about how it is going to turn out supersede the Gospel’s calling and power to save.

We tend to look at people with different (and sinful) lifestyles or divergent views on things like science and politics and pre-determine that they are too far away to be saved. Have we forgotten that all are by nature totally lost in sin and deserving of eternal condemnation? Paul knew he was. As we heard a few weeks ago, Paul knew he was the worst of sinners, and yet, God’s love saved a wretch like him.

Christ’s love was why Paul was constantly adapting. He wasn’t doing that to be liked. It was because he was striving to love the people he was with, as God loved already loved them. Remember how Jesus described love in John 15? (Jn. 15:13) Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. This is the same Jesus who encouraged his disciples to (Mt. 5:44) love their enemies, and pray for those who persecute you. Don’t just love and greet those who are like you! But set aside your self for others. Do you love someone that, with everything you know and see today, is likely headed to hell? I don’t mean: “do you golf with an unbeliever?” or “Do you have a family member who doesn’t go to church real often?” I mean is there someone in your life that you are actively setting aside your rights to sacrificially love and share the Gospel with? Because that is what it takes. You have a right to be treated with respect and honor. But when you share the Good News you may treated as a fool or weak. Your good reputation might be turn into a punchline. Your good nature might be taken advantage of. Your good sense to speak the truth might be used to trap you into an awkward or uncomfortable conversation. Your good life might be put under scrutiny in ways that feel unfair. But woe to you if you ashamed to go and do what the love of Christ compels you to say and do.

What Paul demonstrated in his time in Corinth was a shadow of what Christ did for all sinners. Jesus is God, and belongs to no one. Yet, he became man and made himself a servant to everyone, to save as many as possible. To the Jews, he became a Jew. Born to the house and line of David—and in his town too. He grew up among them as one of their own. Throughout his life, he placed himself under the Law. Not the extra laws that the Pharisees had added, but Jesus fulfilled every word of Moses and David and the Prophets. He lived up to the 10 commandments in every setting and situation—regardless of the personal consequences. He lived this way that he might redeem those who lived under the burden of the law, that they might receive adoption to sonship.

And even though he came primarily for the lost sheep of the nation of Israel, he reached out to those who did not have the law on their side and those who did not know the law of Moses. To crooked tax collectors like Zacchaeus and broken prostitutes like Mary To the Roman centurion who had a sick servant and the Samaritan woman who had more marriages under her belt than she could count on one hand. Jesus cured a Samaritan leper and a freed a Greek man from demon possession. He did all this for the sake of their souls, that they might come to know and believe in him as the Son of God and their Savior. Jesus even became weak, to win the weak. It was only after watching Jesus suffer physical and emotional abuse that the thief on the cross repented of his sinfulness and turned to Jesus for salvation. This was the good news that Paul proclaimed. Christ Jesus made the good sacrifice for our redemption, and the salvation of many others, too.

Because Jesus loved me, and lived for me, and died for my sins, and rose triumphantly from the grave, I share in his blessings. And like the Apostle Paul, I am (1 Cor. 9:21) under Christ’s law. What is that law? (Jn. 13:34-35) A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.

Christ’s love and command compels us to do no less than actively and sacrificially love those who are yet to be won. And here’s the thing. Jesus tells us that (Mt. 7:13) many are on the road that leads to destruction. Don’t let whatever preconceived ideas you have stop you from sharing the good news. Think about how many times someone in the Old Testament thought they knew what a person was like and they were wrong. When Samuel came to town to anoint a king, David’s own father, Jesse, didn’t even think David was worth inviting home for the ceremony. Moses and Gideon and Jonah and Jeremiah all thought God had picked the wrong guy to do his work. God has always chosen unlikely people to be a part of his family. Jacob and Judah. Rahab and Ruth and Rehoboam. Even Mary and Joseph were floored! And Jesus did not choose the wise teachers of the Law or the respected Pharisees to be his disciples. He picked fishermen and tax collectors and political zealots to be his students and his witnesses to the ends of the earth. And He has also chosen you. In the waters of your Baptism, he claimed you as his beloved child. In your training and instruction, he has equipped you to give a reason for the hope that you have. And he prepared some people around you to hear this saving Gospel. Remember, many are on the road that leads to destruction.

You don’t have to look hard to find someone like that. It’s likely, you don’t have to look at all to find someone you consider a friend who is following that path. Instead, spend your time and your energy seeking a way to truly love them. To sacrificially set aside whatever rights you may have so that they might see the only righteousness any person has is by grace through faith in Jesus Christ. That conversation might be awkward or painful. It might take many, many conversations. It may make you look foolish or weak. It may require kindness and patience, gentleness, self-control. But love rejoices with truth. It always protects, trust, hopes, and preserves. Love never fails. And that’s why we go all-in, because we know that God has gone all in for us. Amen.