1 Corinthians 4:6-13

The Great Reversal: Apostolic Scum and Kingly Saints Text: 1 Corinthians 4:6-13

Introduction: The Corinthian Disease

The church at Corinth was a mess, but it was a quintessentially modern mess. They were gifted, they were eloquent, they were spiritually advanced in their own eyes, and they were tearing each other to shreds. They had formed personality cults around their favorite preachers, treating them like rival philosophical schools or, to put it in our terms, rival celebrity brands. "I am of Paul," "I am of Apollos," "I am of Cephas." They were puffed up, arrogant, and full of hot air. They were more impressed with the messenger's style than with the message itself, and as a result, they had fundamentally misunderstood the message.

The gospel is not a system for self-improvement that makes you impressive. The gospel is a declaration of bankruptcy that makes you dependent. The gospel does not make you wise in the eyes of the world; it makes you a fool. The cross is not a path to glory that sidesteps humility and suffering; the cross is the place where glory is found precisely in humility and suffering. The Corinthians had gotten it all backwards. They wanted a crown without a cross, a kingdom without a crucible, and a resurrection without a grave.

So Paul, with the skill of a master surgeon, takes up his scalpel. In this passage, he is going to lance the boil of their pride. He does this with sharp logic, biting sarcasm, and a brutal, unflinching description of his own apostolic life. He is going to hold up a mirror to the Corinthians. In one hand, he will show them a picture of themselves, fat, happy, rich, and reigning like kings. In the other hand, he will show them a picture of the apostles, the very men God sent to establish the church, as men condemned to death, as the scum of the world. And he will ask them, which of these two pictures looks like it has anything to do with Jesus Christ and Him crucified? This is a confrontation that is just as necessary for the church in our day as it was in theirs.


The Text

Now these things, brothers, I have applied to myself and Apollos for your sakes, so that in us you may learn not to go beyond what is written, so that no one of you will become puffed up on behalf of one against the other. For who regards you as superior? What do you have that you did not receive? And if you did receive it, why do you boast as if you had not received it? You are already filled, you have already become rich, you have ruled without us, and how I wish that you had ruled indeed so that we also might rule with you. For, I think that God has exhibited us apostles last of all, as men condemned to death, because we have become a spectacle to the world, and to angels, and to men. We are fools for the sake of Christ, but you are prudent in Christ! We are weak, but you are strong! You are glorious, but you are without honor! To this present hour we hunger and thirst, and are poorly clothed, and roughly treated, and homeless; and we labor, working with our own hands; when we are reviled, we bless; when we are persecuted, we endure; when we are slandered, we try to plead; we have become as the scum of the world, the grime of all things, even until now.
(1 Corinthians 4:6-13 LSB)

The Biblical Boundary Marker (v. 6)

Paul begins by explaining his method. He has been using himself and Apollos as test cases to make a crucial point.

"Now these things, brothers, I have applied to myself and Apollos for your sakes, so that in us you may learn not to go beyond what is written, so that no one of you will become puffed up on behalf of one against the other." (1 Corinthians 4:6)

Paul says he has been using himself and Apollos as "figures," as object lessons. He is not picking a fight with Apollos; they are on the same team. He is using their names to represent the factions that have sprung up. And his goal is to teach them a fundamental principle of Protestantism before there was such a thing: do not go beyond what is written. The Greek phrase here is a watchword for biblical fidelity. It means that all our theological squabbles, all our party spirit, all our claims to spiritual superiority must be brought to the bar of Scripture. The Word of God is the ultimate authority, the final court of appeal.

Why? Because the moment you step outside the boundaries of God's written Word, you have stepped into the realm of human opinion, human tradition, and human pride. And that is exactly what was happening at Corinth. They were evaluating their leaders based on worldly metrics, on eloquence, on personality, on charisma, not on faithfulness to the text. This inevitably leads to being "puffed up." This is Paul's favorite word for the Corinthian condition. It describes a bubble, something that looks big but is full of nothing but air. When your standard is something other than Scripture, you will always find a way to make yourself look good, and the other guy look bad. But when Scripture is the standard, we all find ourselves flattened before a holy God. Sola Scriptura is the great enemy of all ecclesiastical hot air.


The Great Deflator (v. 7)

Paul now applies the needle to their puffed-up pride with a series of devastatingly simple questions.

"For who regards you as superior? What do you have that you did not receive? And if you did receive it, why do you boast as if you had not received it?" (1 Corinthians 4:7)

This is the doctrine of grace in three sharp jabs. First, "Who regards you as superior?" Or, who makes you to differ? You think you are special? Who told you that? Was it God, or was it the committee of self-admiration you hold in your own head? The answer, of course, is that God in His sovereign grace makes people to differ, but He does not do it so that the one who differs can strut about.

Second, "What do you have that you did not receive?" This is the death blow to all autonomous pride. Your intelligence? A gift. Your spiritual gift? A gift. Your wealth? A gift. Your eloquence? A gift. Your very next breath? A gift. You are a walking, talking bundle of received goods. You are a beggar at the door of God's mercy, and everything you possess has been placed in your hands by a gracious benefactor. To be proud of what you have been given is as absurd as a Christmas tree boasting of its ornaments.

Third, "And if you did receive it, why do you boast as if you had not received it?" This is the essence of spiritual amnesia. To boast is to act as though you are the source, the originator, the manufacturer of your own blessings. It is to take the gift, scratch the Giver's name off the tag, and write your own. This is a profound theological error, but it is also cosmic ingratitude. It is spitting in the face of the one who gave you everything. Every boast that does not terminate on God is a form of theft.


Sarcasm for the Self-Satisfied (v. 8)

Having laid the theological foundation, Paul now turns to withering sarcasm. He describes the Corinthians' self-perception in order to expose its absurdity.

"You are already filled, you have already become rich, you have ruled without us, and how I wish that you had ruled indeed so that we also might rule with you." (1 Corinthians 4:8)

You can almost hear the drip of irony. "Oh, so you've arrived, have you? You're already full, with no need for more grace. You're already rich, with no need for the treasures of heaven. You've already ascended your thrones and begun your reign." This was the language of over-realized eschatology. They were acting as though the kingdom had fully come, that all the struggles and sufferings of this present age were behind them. They were living in glory, while the apostles, who brought them the gospel in the first place, were still in the trenches.

Paul's jab, "you have ruled without us," is particularly sharp. They had set up their own little kingdom in Corinth and had conveniently forgotten the men who were bleeding and dying to advance the true kingdom. Then he twists the knife with that last phrase: "how I wish that you had ruled indeed so that we also might rule with you." It is a masterful stroke. He is saying, "If this glorious kingdom you think you're living in were actually real, I would love to be a part of it! Because the reality I'm living in looks nothing like that." This sets up the stark contrast he is about to paint.


The Apostolic Spectacle (v. 9-13)

Paul now pulls back the curtain on the reality of apostolic life. If the Corinthians are kings on their thrones, the apostles are gladiators in the arena.

"For, I think that God has exhibited us apostles last of all, as men condemned to death, because we have become a spectacle to the world, and to angels, and to men." (1 Corinthians 4:9)

The imagery here is drawn from the Roman triumphal parades. After a great victory, the conquering general would parade his armies and spoils through the streets of Rome. The grand finale, the last and most morbid part of the show, was a procession of captives condemned to die in the arena. Paul says this is the role God has assigned the apostles. They are not the conquering heroes on the white horse; they are the grand finale, the death row inmates put on public display. They are a "spectacle," a "theatron," to the entire cosmos, to the world, to angels, and to men. The whole universe is watching this drama unfold, where the leaders of God's new covenant people are treated like criminals destined for slaughter.

He then drives the contrast home with a series of brutal antitheses:

"We are fools for the sake of Christ, but you are prudent in Christ! We are weak, but you are strong! You are glorious, but we are without honor!" (1 Corinthians 4:10)

The Corinthians thought they were so wise, so prudent, so clever in how they navigated their faith in a pagan city. Paul says, "Fine. You be the wise ones. We are content to be fools for Christ's sake." The wisdom of God in the cross is foolishness to the world, and the apostles embraced that foolishness. The Corinthians, meanwhile, were strong and glorious in their own estimation. The apostles, by contrast, embraced weakness and dishonor. Why? Because they understood that God's power is made perfect in weakness (2 Cor. 12:9). The Corinthians were chasing a theology of glory; the apostles were living a theology of the cross.

Lest they think he is speaking in metaphors, Paul gets brutally specific. He lists the realities of his daily life:

"To this present hour we hunger and thirst, and are poorly clothed, and roughly treated, and homeless; and we labor, working with our own hands; when we are reviled, we bless; when we are persecuted, we endure; when we are slandered, we try to plead; we have become as the scum of the world, the grime of all things, even until now." (1 Corinthians 4:11-13)

This is not a resume designed to impress a worldly board of directors. It is a catalogue of suffering. Hunger, thirst, rags, beatings, homelessness. He works with his hands like a common laborer, refusing to be a burden. And notice the response to mistreatment. When reviled, they bless. When persecuted, they endure. When slandered, they entreat. This is the cruciform life. This is turning the other cheek. This is the Sermon on the Mount with dirt and blood on it.

He concludes with two of the most shocking descriptions in the New Testament. "We have become as the scum of the world, the grime of all things." The word for "scum" refers to the filth that is wiped off and thrown away. The word for "grime" or "offscouring" was sometimes used for the human sacrifices, the scapegoats, that pagan cities would offer to their gods in a time of plague. The apostles are the refuse, the filth that the world wants to scrape off and discard in order to cleanse itself. This is the apostolic life. This is what it looks like to follow a crucified Lord in a fallen world. And this, Paul is saying, is the polar opposite of the smug, self-satisfied, country-club Christianity that had taken root in Corinth.


Conclusion: The Two Paths

The apostle has laid out two ways of being a Christian. One is the way of the Corinthians: puffed up, self-impressed, rich in your own eyes, wise in the ways of the world, and sitting on a throne of your own making. The other is the way of the apostles: humbled, dependent, foolish for Christ's sake, weak, dishonored, suffering, and treated as the filth of the world.

One path is wide, comfortable, and leads to the praise of men. The other path is narrow, bloody, and leads to being a spectacle before the world. But here is the kicker. The first path, the Corinthian path, is a dead end. It is a Christianity that has been neutered, declawed, and made respectable. It has the form of godliness but denies its power. The second path, the apostolic path, is the only one that leads to life. It is the path that Jesus Himself walked. He was the ultimate fool for our sake, the weakest of all as He hung on the cross, the most dishonored, the scum of the world who was cast out of the city to die.

The question for us is the same one Paul put to the Corinthians. Which path are you on? Whose report will you believe? The world's definition of success, or God's? Are you boasting in what you have received as though you were the source? Or are you glorying in your weakness, so that the power of Christ may rest upon you? Are you a king in your own little kingdom, or are you the scum of the world for the sake of the true King? Because in the great reversal of the gospel, it is the fools who are wise, the weak who are strong, and the scum who will inherit the earth.