Commentary - 1 Corinthians 8:7-13

Bird's-eye view

In this section of his letter, Paul is addressing a very practical pastoral problem in the Corinthian church. The issue is eating meat that had been previously offered to an idol. Some of the Corinthians, whom we might call the "strong," understood their Christian liberty. They knew an idol was nothing and that the meat was just meat, a creaturely good given by God. But others, the "weak," had come out of paganism and still had their consciences bound up with the old associations. For them, that piece of meat was still spiritually radioactive.

Paul's task here is to thread the needle. He affirms the knowledge of the strong but then immediately qualifies it by making love the governing principle. Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up. This passage is a master class in Christian ethics, teaching us that the exercise of our liberty is never to be a private affair. It must always be conditioned by love for our brothers and sisters, particularly those who are weak. The ultimate principle is not "what am I allowed to do?" but rather "what does love require me to do?" Paul concludes with a stunning personal resolution that shows how high the stakes are: he would rather never eat meat again than cause a brother to stumble.

Outline

Clause-by-Clause Commentary

v. 7 However, not all men have this knowledge; but some, being accustomed to the idol until now, eat food as if it were sacrificed to an idol; and their conscience, being weak, is defiled.

Paul begins by bringing the high-flying theology of the "strong" back down to the pavement. Yes, an idol is nothing. Yes, there is one God. But the apostle says, "However, not all men have this knowledge." The truth of a proposition is one thing; a person's settled conviction about that truth is another. The church is not a collection of uniform theological machines. It is a family, with toddlers and teenagers and adults. Not everyone is at the same place. Some of the believers in Corinth had spent their entire lives in paganism, and the habits of mind that go with it do not simply vanish overnight. They were "accustomed to the idol until now." That old association between the meat and the demonic worship was still sticky in their minds. So when they see meat they know came from a temple, and they eat it, they are doing so "as if it were sacrificed to an idol." In their head, they are participating in idolatry, even if the strong brother next to them is simply eating a steak. The result is that their "conscience, being weak, is defiled." It is weak because it isn't fully informed by the truth. It is defiled because they have violated it. They believe the act is wrong, and they do it anyway, perhaps emboldened by the example of a stronger brother. And to violate your conscience is always sin.

v. 8 But food will not commend us to God. We neither lack if we do not eat, nor abound if we do eat.

Here Paul agrees with the basic premise of the strong. When it comes to our standing before God, food is a neutral thing. "Food will not commend us to God." Asceticism doesn't score you points, and feasting doesn't either. Our justification is in Christ alone, not in our diet. Paul states it from both sides for emphasis. "We neither lack if we do not eat, nor abound if we do eat." There is no spiritual deficit in abstaining, and there is no spiritual surplus in partaking. This is central to Christian liberty. We are free from all the religious regulations that men invent to try to get a leg up with God. The Judaizers wanted to put the Galatians under a yoke of bondage with food laws, and Paul fought them tooth and nail. Here, he affirms the principle. The food itself is not the issue. Our relationship with God does not run through the kitchen.

v. 9 But see to it that this authority of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak.

And here is the pivot. Paul takes the correct principle of the strong and immediately puts a guardrail on it. You have liberty, you have this "authority" or right. But Christian liberty is not the right to do whatever you want. It is the power to do what you ought. And what you ought to do is love your brother. So, Paul says, "see to it." Be careful. Watch out. Your freedom, if exercised thoughtlessly, can become a "stumbling block to the weak." A stumbling block is something that trips someone up and causes them to fall into sin. Your liberty can become the occasion for your brother's sin. Notice the responsibility here. The strong brother has a duty to think about how his actions will land with the weak. He cannot just say, "Well, that's his problem. He needs to grow up." No, love requires you to consider his weakness and act accordingly.

v. 10 For if someone sees you, who have knowledge, dining in an idol’s temple, will not his conscience, if he is weak, be built up to eat things sacrificed to idols?

Paul now paints a picture to make it concrete. Imagine a weak brother, fresh out of paganism. He is walking by a temple to Zeus, which often functioned as the town's primary restaurant and butcher shop. He looks in and sees you, the mature Christian "who have knowledge," reclining at a table and enjoying a meal. What happens to this weak brother? Paul says his conscience will be "built up", this is sarcasm, of course. It is not a good kind of building. It means he will be emboldened, encouraged, pressured into doing something his conscience is not ready for. He will think, "Well, if that godly man can do it, it must be okay." And so he goes in and eats, but he does so with that old, idolatrous frame of mind. He sins. And your example was the catalyst.

v. 11 For through your knowledge he who is weak is ruined, the brother for whose sake Christ died.

Now Paul raises the stakes to the absolute maximum. He shows the true cost of the strong brother's carelessness. "Through your knowledge he who is weak is ruined." The word for ruined can mean to be destroyed. This is not a small matter of hurt feelings. This is spiritual devastation. Your insistence on your liberty, your "knowledge," becomes the instrument of your brother's destruction. And then comes the knockout blow: this is "the brother for whose sake Christ died." The Lord of glory gave His life to save this person, and you are treating him with contempt over a piece of meat. You are undoing, as it were, the very purpose of the cross. Christ died to rescue him from sin, and you are leading him right back into it. When you see your weak brother through the lens of the cross, it changes everything. He is not an annoyance. He is not a theological project to be fixed. He is a blood-bought soul of infinite value.

v. 12 And in that way, by sinning against the brothers and wounding their conscience when it is weak, you sin against Christ.

The logic is inescapable. If Christ died for this brother, then Christ identifies with this brother. Therefore, Paul concludes, when you are "sinning against the brothers and wounding their conscience," you are not just committing a horizontal offense. You are sinning vertically. "You sin against Christ." Jesus Himself said, "Inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me" (Matt. 25:40). This is the doctrine of the church as the body of Christ. When one member suffers, all the members suffer with it. To wound a believer is to wound the Lord. This should put the fear of God into any of us who are tempted to be cavalier with the consciences of others.

v. 13 Therefore, if food causes my brother to stumble, I will never eat meat again, ever, so that I will not cause my brother to stumble.

Paul concludes by bringing it all home to his own practice. This is not just abstract ethical theory for him. This is how he lives. "Therefore," in light of all this, here is my resolution. The logic is simple and powerful. "If food causes my brother to stumble..." That is the condition. The welfare of my brother's soul is the determining factor. If that is the case, then "I will never eat meat again, ever." The Greek is emphatic. For all time. As long as I live. This is a radical, hyperbolic commitment. Is Paul becoming a vegetarian? No, that is not the point. The point is that he holds his Christian liberty with a completely open hand. Compared to the spiritual health of a brother for whom Christ died, his right to eat meat is worth absolutely nothing. He will gladly and permanently sacrifice a legitimate freedom "so that I will not cause my brother to stumble." Love, not knowledge, gets the last word.

Application

The principles here are timeless, even if the specific issue of meat sacrificed to idols is not a common one for most of us. The fundamental issue is how the strong are to relate to the weak. The strong are those who understand their liberty in Christ, and the weak are those whose consciences are not yet fully instructed by that liberty.

The first application is for the strong. Your knowledge is a good thing, but it is not the ultimate thing. Love is. You have a profound responsibility not to use your liberty in a way that would trip up a weaker brother. This applies to all sorts of modern issues: alcohol, movies, music, Sabbath observance, and so on. The question is not, "Do I have a right to do this?" The question is, "How will my exercise of this right affect my brother?" You are called to lay down your rights for the sake of another, just as Christ laid down His life for you.

The second application is for the weak. Your conscience should be respected, but your goal should be to have it instructed by the Word of God so that you can grow into the fullness of the liberty that Christ has purchased for you. Weakness is not a permanent spiritual gift. The goal is not to remain weak, and it is certainly not to use your weakness to manipulate the strong. The goal is to grow in knowledge and grace, so that you too can stand fast in the freedom wherewith Christ has made us free.

For all of us, the ultimate takeaway is that the church is a body. We are interconnected and responsible for one another. Our individual choices have corporate consequences. And everything we do must be governed by love, because the man next to you in the pew is a brother for whom Christ died.