Last week I worked through Paul’s amazing passage on food sacrificed to idols in 1 Corinthians 8-10. In some ways, it seems like he could have answered the pertinent questions in just a paragraph. Can Christ-followers buy meat in the Corinthian market area that had been sacrificed at a temple and then eat it at home? And, can they, when invited, join in the meals held at the temples by those who had brought sacrifices to Apollo, Venus, or some other so-called god or goddess?
But it took three whole chapters to answer it because Paul was interested in much more than those two questions. He was interested in the kind of community commitments being formed among the Christians in Corinth.
So, he insists that love trumps knowledge. In other words, just because someone knows that the meat can be eaten with a clean conscience doesn’t settle all situations, because there were weak brothers and sisters whose consciences weren’t so sure.
He isn’t talking about people who’d be upset that their narrow understandings were being violated. He isn’t speaking about them being offended. He’s addressing a very real possibility of falling away. They had come out of paganism. They remembered well the mystery and ecstasy of those pagan temples; they could recall the thrill of the celebratory meals; they still had powerful memories of the way moral restraint was often lifted in that environment (including all the women and boys who were available as prostitutes).
One smell of that meat — meat that they thought was associated with these other gods — might lead them down a road to their old lives. The “strong Christians” (not a term used in this section, but rather found in Romans 14) might know that it isn’t a package deal; but these weaker brothers and sisters might be caught up into the whole scene of idolatry.
It’s important to know what he’s saying. And equally important to know what he isn’t saying. This passage has been used far too many times to endorse the position of the person with the most rules and the most narrow way. It has nothing to do with that (in most situations).
Here are a couple insightful comments I came across.
First, from Richard Hays, who’ll be speaking at ACU next month:
“The ’stumbling block principle’ is often erroneously invoked to place limits on the behavior of some Christians whose conduct offends other Christians with stricter behavioral standards. For example, it is argued that if drinking alcohol or dancing or dressing in certain ways might cause offense to more scrupulous church members, we are obligated to avoid such behaviors for the sake of the ‘weaker brother’s conscience.’ The effect of such reasoning is to hold the entire Christian community hostage to the standards of the most narrow-minded and legalistic members of the church. Clearly, this is not what Paul intended. He is concerned in 1 Corinthians 8 about weaker believers being ‘destroyed’ by being drawn away from the church and back into idol worship.”
And then this from N. T. Wright (of course!):
“Sometimes people from a very narrow background, full of rules and restrictions which have nothing to do with the gospel itself and everything to do with a particular social subculture, try to insist that all other good Christians should join them in their tight little world. But in a case like that the rule-bound Christians are in no danger of having their consciences damaged. They are not being ‘led astray.’ They are quite sure of their own correctness. Paul is dealing with a very different case.”