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¹⁷Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. ¹⁸Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share.¹⁹In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life. 

1 Timothy 6.17-19

It seems pretty straightforward what Paul is asking Timothy to do here. These verses are admonitions to the “haves” and how they are to behave with regard to their wealth. Paul had just dealt with those who did not have wealth (vv. 3-10), the “have nots”, and now he turns his attention to those who do. Timothy, being their overseer, is to command the Ephesians “not to be arrogant” (v. 17). A wealthy city like Ephesus, thriving in its commercial and business life, was bound to possess rich citizens who responded to the gospel. But Paul’s point is clear: whatever wealth these Christians had came from God, ultimately, and there was no place for them to idolatrously contend that it was derived merely from their hard work and success. In the end, Paul tells Timothy, it was God who gave them the skill to turn business ventures to their advantage, and so he instructs Timothy to remind the congregation not to put their hope in uncertain wealth, which could be lost in a day. Instead, these rich Christians were to hope in God, whose compassions provided everything necessary for their enjoyment of life (v. 17). 

Wealthy Christians in Paul and Timothy’s day faced great challenges to their faith. Material possessions and the abundance of money and other signs of wealth can often clog up the channel of faith and gratitude in us. The tendency to view material riches as security was a temptation to the Ephesians to substitute the true spiritual life for a life of vanity. We are no different today. We place such trust in our possessions and in our capacity to make money that little room is left to reflect on what true spirituality means. Paul rightly hit the nail on the head when he instructed Timothy to “command” the Ephesians not to be arrogant. Wealth somehow makes us feel our own invincibility and superiority. And since we are convinced that we did it all by ourselves, we use our wealth selfishly to satisfy our whims. Evidently, what was happening among some of the Ephesians then happens to us all the time. We stand in danger of the same arrogance, or pride, or haughtiness, that our money buys us.

But nowhere are we more wrong than here. Forgetful of our beggarly state before God, we imagine that we are one up on others, that our standing in life is somehow superior to theirs, and that the good things we enjoy are ours by right. Out of this regard for ourselves, we think we are entitled to be served, forgetting that Christ came as the servant of all. We think too that we can be rude to others and careless of their sensitivities, imagining that our money gives us the right to consider others as being not better, but lower than ourselves. In fact, such attitudes can be so deeply ingrained in us that we do not even notice it when we react in such ways. It’s just second nature to us.

Paul provides an antidote for such temptations and attitudes in verse 18: “Command them to do good …” The wealthy are commanded, not asked, to be “rich in good deeds.” Wealth comes with great responsibilities and requires good stewardship from those who possess it. Rich Christians have an obligation to do good, not an option. But Paul goes one step further to say that not only are the rich Ephesians to give money, they are also to give their hearts with the money! God loves a cheerful giver indeed. In doing so, these Ephesians would find God’s pleasure on them. Such generous and kindhearted giving came from the love that had been poured out on them by the Spirit, and which bound the rich and poor in the common bond of love in Christ. This was the kind of fellowship that God desired of his people.

If the Ephesians did this, they would lay up real and lasting treasure for themselves (v. 19). They would be exchanging transient wealth for eternal riches, perishable wealth for the imperishable. This “firm foundation” they were laying for themselves had a purpose: that they might lay hold of the “life that is truly life.”

One can see how Paul constantly reminded Timothy to always swing the conversation back to what really mattered in the end: eternal life.  The “life that is truly life” refers to life in Christ. The long view of this is eternity with Christ, of course, but in another sense, the Ephesians were to experience the “truly life” of the width, height, length and depth of Christ’s love as they gave generously of themselves and their material wealth.  The satisfying richness they would experience would surpass any superficial substitute that mere material abundance could provide. Simply, a life of such trivial acquisitions and success would pale in comparison to the richness and depth that the “truly life” in Christ offered.  

Paul always makes links between profession and action. In these three verses, Paul spells out to Timothy how spiritual progress is made. The way by which the rich Ephesians could “lay up treasure for themselves” in heaven was by investing their earthly treasure in long-term heavenly investments. What they gave out of their material blessings had implications and worth that were eternal, and that would never suffer loss. In an age that is given to the pursuit of material wealth and happiness, there is no timelier message to us today than Paul’s imperatives to Timothy so long ago.

¹⁸For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.¹⁹For it is written:
“I will destroy the wisdom of the wise;
the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.”

²⁰Where is the wise man? Where is the scholar? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?²¹For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe.²²Jews demand miraculous signs and Greeks look for wisdom,²³but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles,²⁴but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.²⁵For the foolishness of God is wiser than man’s wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man’s strength.

1 Corinthians 1.18-25

My message to you, Paul said to the quarrelling and peaceless Corinthians, was not by persuasive and wise speech, but by the Spirit’s power (1 Corinthians 1.1-4). He had already taken them to task for their divisiveness and partisanship: “I follow Paul”; “I follow Apollos”; “I follow Cephas” … (1.11-12). These Corinthians were easily seduced by the wisdom of the wise (v. 17), and sought to follow the preacher who was, to them, the most eloquent and erudite. Rather than prizing content and truth, they were mesmerized by fine-sounding debates and formal rhetoric. Socrates, the Greek philosopher of the fifth century BC, who sought truth and content in debate rather than merely to score points over an opponent, had castigated his countrymen for preferring the clever tricks of sophisticated rhetoric and argument. Yet here were the Corinthians, Christians by profession and conviction, behaving in ways that their own pagan philosopher himself would have despaired of.

So Paul asserts early on in his letter to Corinth that the cross is the power of God, and he is not ashamed of it (Romans 1.16). His focus is simply on the cross (1 Corinthians 1.17-18). There is nothing else he could or would proclaim. God had settled the matter of how salvation would be wrought; in verse 19, Paul quotes Isaiah 29.13 to show God’s greater wisdom in dismissing the precepts of the wise.  

Paul then asks a series of rhetorical questions which demonstrate the limitedness and failure of man’s wisdom in comprehending God’s ways: “Where is the wise man? Where is the scholar? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?” (v.20)

The “wise man” was probably a reference to the Greek sage who defended and argued for one of the many worldviews in the open marketplace. Like the wise man, the “philosopher” or debater and orator, was well-trained in formal debate and rhetoric. In first-century Greek culture, “wisdom” was not understood as the kind of practical skill in living that is found in biblical books like Proverbs. Rather, the Greek understood “wisdom” to mean a well-argued, well-put and defended philosophical worldview. Any “wise man” therefore, could employ clever logical and rhetorical tricks to win an argument, and if he could do that with wit and polish, then he would win over many. This was what Socrates had protested against in his time; this was what Paul was protesting too, centuries later. The “scholar” referred to the Jewish scribe, or professional expert in the law who explained the bible and biblical traditions to the people.

By his inclusion of wise Greeks and Jews, Paul was preparing the stage for what follows in the later verses. None of these sages, Jew and Greek, had been able to fathom God’s mystery in his salvific work. None had figured out the central place of the cross in eternity. No matter how slick their oratorical skills, no matter how many technical hairs they could find to split, the fact remained that their collective wisdom had simply missed the point: “Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?” (v.20)

The world in its sophisticated wisdom had failed to know God (v. 21) anyway because such human wisdom was bankrupt, reflecting the fatal flaw in humankind that Eden’s garden began (cf. Genesis 3.6). Rather, it was through the “foolish” and unostentatious preaching of the cross that God’s wisdom and salvation would be revealed, and on this, Paul staked his life.

What is it that the world’s sages seek as answers to their questions about God, life, the universe and everything? Paul says that the Jews seek miracles (Matthew 12.38-39) and the Greeks wisdom (v. 22), but the only answer from heaven is the scandal of the cross. To the Jews, it is a “stumbling block” as they grapple with the thought of a crucified and cursed Messiah (cf. Deut. 21.23); to the Greeks, sheer foolishness because only the worst type of criminals and insurrectionists died on a cross. To hope for a religious or political Savior in one put to death by crucifixion was simply laughable—according to the world’s wisdom.

The idea of a Crucified Messiah only seemed contradictory through the lens of such imperfect wisdom. Paul had in mind Matthew 23.11-12 as he thought of the divisive Corinthians: the one who would be greatest must be servant of all as the dying Savior proved. To those called, the cross would prove to be the highest demonstration of God’s self-denying redemptive love (v. 24). This was real wisdom indeed!

The cross cuts to the heart of the self-centeredness of worldly wisdom. Nothing of man’s initiative could work this salvation out. What man saw as hopeless defeat was a magnificent victory. What he considered as impotence was a divine show of power. Human wisdom and strength are nothing more than folly, and through the cross, God turns the tables on willful and rebellious human children who would shake their fists at him (cf. Genesis 3).

God’s foolishness in the end turns out to be wiser than all man’s wisdom; and even his perceived weakness stronger than man’s strength (v. 25). Paul affirms this with every confidence that his authority in Christ would overturn the sophisticated worldly wisdom of the self-centered and self-preserving Corinthians. His dependence lay in one thing alone: “we preach Christ crucified” (v. 23).

Today, when we “share the gospel” it often means we offer a palliative to our friends to “experience” Christ and his blessings. Seldom do we talk about the destruction to the self-centeredness that the cross demands. Sometimes, we make the cross into a kind of bandaid to cover scrapes and cuts. But Paul would have none of it. We were either crucified with Christ, or we were not. For him, everything hinged on the fact of the cross. Everything else devolved from it, as Paul knew: our lives simply demonstrate what we really think of the cross, the folly of God. Paul’s underlying question to the Corinthians remains his question to us too: would we be wise fools? Our answers might surprise us.  

¹ Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, we must get rid of every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and run with endurance the race set out for us, ² keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. For the joy set out for him he endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God. ³ Think of him who endured such opposition against himself by sinners, so that you may not grow weary in your souls and give up.

Hebrews 12:1-3

The race metaphor features in the New Testament as a most apt description of the Christian journey of faith. We see it in Paul’s writings, and for whoever wrote Hebrews, that thought also captured, for him, the essence of the Christian’s striving toward God as a race that requires perseverance to finish, and a conviction of the certainty of its end and goal.

In Hebrews 12.1, we see the onlookers and crowds cheering the runners toward the finish line. The unknown writer of Hebrews had already shown that in the hall of faith of chapter 11, some Old Testament men and women had experienced deliverance, some others had suffered—but regardless of what befell them, all had believed in God’s unshakeable promises. They had finished their race well, and entered into God’s joy. Now these witnesses of God’s faithfulness are described as the cheering onlookers of the Hebrew Christians who must demonstrate that same faith in a faithful God, and run their own race well. Hence, chapter 12 harks back to the hall of faith passage in chapter 11 by beginning with “Therefore …” More than that, these cheering crowds have been themselves down that same road, and understand through their experience that God is true, and his promises never fail. And so, the cheering crowds cheer for two things: to encourage the Hebrew Christians to press on faithfully—to endure—and to assure them that God would never let them down.

The Hebrew Christians (and we) are to run our race without distraction, focusing on the one Person who is the ultimate witness of God’s faithfulness, Jesus himself. To run without distraction, we have to set aside, or give up, or throw off, every weight and hindrance, every fear and anxiety, every sinful habit and bent … in short, anything that would slow us down, as we head straight for the goal set before us.

Athletes know that it is during the preparation for the race that most of the real work is done. That is the time to shed excess baggage and weight, and to show determination and discipline in training. It is the willingness and discipline to shed the weight and the sin that “clings so closely” (v. 1) that determines the fitness of the athlete.  The throw of the dice whether an athlete will even cross the finish line or not is more or less decided by the shape his body is in, and the stamina his training has given him, as he stands at the starting line of the race. To subject oneself to strict discipline in training marks the serious athlete from all others. For Greek marathon runners, it was the pride of victory that drove them on to the finish line; for the Christian, it is Jesus himself. We run for no one and nothing else except Christ and Christ alone.

Our journey of faith has everything to do with Christ, who brought into being our faith in the first place. Hebrews tells us that we need not fear, but instead persevere and endure, as Jesus did. He who began a good work in us will surely complete it. Jesus is also the one who leads us by example: he finished the race before us, and invites us to the same marathon because he has mapped out the way for us. He is thus both the “pioneer and perfecter” of our faith (v. 2).

Jesus then is our model and sustainer. Just as he endured the toughness of training and discipline, and finished his race well, we are asked to do the same. He “endured” the cross because of the joy set before him, meaning that he consented to the short-term inconvenience of suffering for the long-term gain of victory, triumph and salvation. He saw beyond the pain of the cross to the glory that would be his, and so, he endured.

It is all too easy nowadays to prefer the short-term gain and forgo the long-term good. Christians are seduced by the thought of having an easy ride in life. We like the idea of just cruising along. Immediate gratification (even in spiritual things) is what we are used to, and what we look for in any decision we make. We dislike words like “perseverance” and “endurance”. But the writer of Hebrews warns his readers that the Christian life is a race that must be run with, precisely, such endurance. Jesus himself endured patiently, and gained great good for humanity. His victory is such that now he sits at the right hand of the Father—that is the hand of victory. We are asked to “think of him,” (v. 3) or consider him, or take account of him, and in doing so, come to understand that God has not called us to defeat but to ultimate deliverance and victory.

Any athlete who grows tired, and decides to drop out halfway because he thinks his muscles cannot take the strain anymore, has taken his eyes off the finish line or post. The Christian who decides halfway that the struggle of faith is not worth it is like such an athlete. He has taken his eyes away from Christ and disqualified himself. In the face of opposition and hardship, he has grown weary and collapsed. He will never cross the finish line, nor will he enjoy the triumph of the victor.

The witnesses and cheerers who have gone ahead of us still look with eagerness at our race. Their encouragement reminds us that they have persevered and triumphed. Whatever may befall us, they say, Christ has already traversed that path, and turned it for our good. His signposts are up, pointing the way for us, as are his oases and resting places. It only remains for us to “get rid of every weight,” ready ourselves … and run.