Reflections with Andy - 1 Corinthians 4: 1-13 – Fools for Christ
The grace that we live with should not make sense to others. It should seem foolish
In our Tuesday reflection on 1 Corinthians 4:1–13, Paul’s biting sarcasm — already you have become kings! — skewers the Corinthians’ tendency to boast about their gifts as though those gifts were their own achievement. Paul’s point is simple: if what you have is a gift, the praise belongs to the giver, not the recipient. Humility is the only appropriate response to grace. But the heart of the reflection lands on verse 10 — we are fools for the sake of Christ — and the deeply countercultural math of the gospel. When reviled, bless. When slandered, speak kindly. When persecuted, endure. None of that makes sense by the world’s standards, and that’s exactly the point. Grace that makes too much sense probably isn’t grace — real grace is always a gift that wasn’t earned, always looks a little strange from the outside, always challenges the world’s ledger of fairness and retaliation. Christianity should be a little weird. We serve a God who was raised from the dead, and we ought to live like it — foolishly, joyfully, and fully.
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Good morning! Great to be with you on this Tuesday as we continue through First Corinthians. This is just a fascinating letter — personal, honest, sometimes confusing, always interesting. I mentioned that Paul breaks out the whooping stick in chapter 5, and that’s still coming, don’t worry. But today in chapter 4, he breaks out something else I deeply appreciate: sarcasm. As someone who is also fluent in that particular tongue, I have a profound appreciation for Paul in this passage. Let’s read chapter 4, verses 1 through 13:
“Think of us in this way, as servants of Christ and stewards of God’s mysteries. Moreover, it is required of stewards that they be found trustworthy. But with me it is a very small thing that I should be judged by you or by any human court. I do not even judge myself. I am not aware of anything against myself, but I am not thereby acquitted. It is the Lord who judges me. Therefore do not pronounce judgment before the time, before the Lord comes, who will bring to light the things now hidden in darkness and will disclose the purposes of the heart. Then each one will receive commendation from God.
I have applied all this to Apollos and myself for your benefit, brothers and sisters, so that you may learn through us the meaning of the saying, ‘Nothing beyond what is written,’ so that none of you will be puffed up in favor of one against another. For who sees anything different in you? What do you have that you did not receive? And if you received it, why do you boast as if it were not a gift?
Already you have all you want! Already you have become rich! Quite apart from us you have become kings! Indeed, I wish that you had become kings, so that we might be kings with you! For I think that God has exhibited us apostles as last of all, as though sentenced to death, because we have become a spectacle to the world, to angels and to mortals. We are fools for the sake of Christ, but you are wise in Christ. We are weak, but you are strong. You are held in honor, but we are in disrepute. To the present hour we are hungry and thirsty, we are poorly clothed and beaten and homeless, and we grow weary from the work of our own hands. When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we speak kindly. We have become like the rubbish of the world, the dregs of all things, to this very day.”
Already you have become kings! I mean — the gift of sarcasm is alive and well in Paul’s letters. He’s letting the Corinthians have it, but with a smile and a raised eyebrow rather than a raised voice. You’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you? You’re already rich, already wise, already kings — while we apostles are just out here being beaten, hungry, slandered, and treated like the dregs of the earth. You know. No big deal.
But beyond the beautiful sarcasm, Paul is making a serious point. The Corinthians had significant gifts — talented, capable people — and they were holding those gifts over each other, using them as status markers. And Paul says: wait. If what you have is a gift, then it isn’t yours. You didn’t earn it. You didn’t produce it. If it’s truly a gift, then the praise belongs to the one who gave it, which is God. So what exactly are you boasting about?
That’s a word worth sitting with. Whatever ability or strength or platform or talent you have — if it’s genuinely a gift from God, then humility isn’t optional. It’s the only appropriate response.
And then there’s verse 10, which I keep coming back to: we are fools for the sake of Christ. That phrase does something to me every time. Paul isn’t complaining here — he’s describing a kind of calling. To live in a way that looks foolish by the world’s standards. To bless when reviled. To speak kindly when slandered. To endure when persecuted. To respond to being slapped in the face not with retaliation but with grace.
That doesn’t make sense. And it’s not supposed to. Because God’s math and the world’s math are different equations.
The world’s math says: I have this gift, this ability, this platform — therefore I matter, therefore I’m above you. God’s math says: everything I have is a gift, therefore I owe it back in service, therefore the last shall be first and the servant of all shall be greatest.
The world’s math says: you hurt me, I hurt you back. That’s fair. That balances. God’s math says: turn the other cheek. Bless those who curse you. That’s not fair. It doesn’t balance. It looks foolish.
And maybe that’s exactly the point. Maybe grace should look a little unsettling to the people around us. Maybe forgiveness extended without earning it should seem strange. Maybe the way we love — even people who don’t deserve it, even people who’ve hurt us — should make people pause and wonder what’s wrong with us.
I hope I’m so full of grace and love that I occasionally seem like a fool. I hope my math doesn’t always add up by the world’s standards. There’s a bumper sticker around Austin, Texas that says Keep Austin Weird. Maybe we ought to say Keep Christianity Weird. Keep it foolish. Keep grace offensive in the best possible way — because grace that makes perfect sense isn’t really grace, it’s just common decency. Grace, real grace, is always a gift that wasn’t earned, which means it always looks a little strange from the outside.
We serve a God who was raised from the dead. That’s weird. That’s gloriously weird. Let’s be fools for Christ today — living foolishly, joyfully, and fully with everything we’ve got.
Tomorrow we’ll pick up with the rest of chapter 4. Have a great day!


