b. The Content of the Way of Knowledge (8:4–6)
The issue that Paul takes up next is one of the longer ones in the epistle (8:1–11:1). The topic, “idol food,” is probably related to the earlier warning (5:10–11) against associating with “idolaters.” If so, then eating “food sacrificed to idols” refers to a specific form of idolatry against which Paul apparently had already spoken in his previous letter. Most likely in their letter to him they had taken exception to his earlier prohibition.
But not everyone is agreed on the exact nature of the problem and of Paul’s response. In the response itself Paul addresses three different issues: (1) Toward the end (10:1–22) he expressly prohibits the eating of sacrificial food at the pagan temples in the presence of the idol-demons. (2) He follows that (10:23–11:1) with his judgment regarding that same food, but now as it is sold in the marketplace, and says that such food may be freely eaten without any question of conscience. (3) But before either of those (9:1–27) he offers a strong defense of his apostolic authority, with special emphasis on his apostolic freedom. The questions are, How do these three relate, or do they? and especially, How does the introductory concern (8:1–13) fit into all this? These questions in turn are related to the historical question, What were the Corinthians doing and what have they argued for in their letter?
For centuries the answer was that Paul is responding to an internal problem in Corinth between the “weak” and the “strong” over the question of marketplace food, since much of that food would have been previously offered in sacrifice to pagan deities. In the name of “knowledge” and “freedom,” the “strong” were advocating eating such food (8:7–13), some perhaps even going so far as to attend the cultic meals in the temple precincts (8:10; 10:14–22). Perhaps they were also urging that such eating will “build up” the “weak” on the matter of “freedom” (cf. 8:9–10). The “weak,” on the other hand, were arguing against eating idol food as a matter of “conscience.” The basic problem, then, was considered to be marketplace food, to which Paul responds by first addressing the “strong” and invoking the stumbling-block principle (8:1–13; cf. 10:30–11:1). At the end (10:23–29), on the other hand, he encourages the “weak” to take a broader view. In this view point 3 (9:1–27) functions as an illustration, by way of digression, of his own willingness to give up his freedom for the rights of others. Finally, as something of an aside, he concludes by prohibiting temple attendance (10:14–22).
This answer, however, was filled with nearly insuperable difficulties, the most serious of which is the vigorous, combative nature of Paul’s answer. This is scarcely the kind of response one would expect if the Corinthians had simply presented an internal question on which they had asked him to render a decision. As throughout most of the letter, therefore, this is best understood as yet another issue on which Paul and they are at odds.
The most plausible solution to all these data is to view what is said explicitly near the beginning (8:10) and is elaborated in full toward the end (10:1–22) as the basic problem to which Paul is responding throughout. This means that eidōlothyta does not refer primarily to marketplace food, but to their (some of them at least) participating in the cultic meals in the precincts of the pagan temples, and thereby eating food that had been sacrificed to idols. In this view most of the present passage (8:1–10:22) takes up this issue against the Corinthian position that they have the “right” to continue this practice. As with going to the prostitutes (6:12–20), Paul forbids such behavior on both ethical (8:1–13) and theological (10:14–22) grounds. Then at the end (10:23–11:1) he picks up the matter of food sold in the market and eaten in private homes, much of which had been previously presented in sacrifice to a false god. On this issue the answer is considerably different; they may do as they wish unless someone else present at the meal calls attention to its (probably) idolatrous origins; and for the sake of that person in that setting Paul would have them forbear.
That going to the temples is the real issue is supported by the fact that the eating of cultic meals was a regular part of worship in antiquity. This is true not only of the nations that surrounded Israel, but of Israel itself. In the Corinth of Paul’s time, such meals were still the regular practice both at state festivals and private celebrations of various kinds. There were three parts to these meals: the preparation, the sacrifice proper, and the feast. The meat of the sacrifices apparently was divided into three portions: that burned before the god, that apportioned to the worshipers, and that placed on the “table of the god,” which was tended by cultic ministrants but also eaten by the worshipers. The significance of these meals has been much debated, but most likely they involved a combination of religious and social factors. The gods were thought to be present, since the meals were held in their honor and sacrifices were made; nonetheless, the meals were also intensely social occasions for the participants. For the most part, the Gentiles who had become believers in Corinth had probably attended such meals all their lives; indeed such meals served as the basic “restaurants” in antiquity, and every kind of occasion was celebrated in this fashion.
The problem Paul is addressing may thus best be reconstructed along the following lines. After their conversion—and most likely after the departure of Paul—some of them returned to the practice of attending the cultic meals. In his earlier letter Paul had forbidden such “idolatry,” but they apparently have taken exception to that prohibition and in their letter have made four points:
(1) They argue that “all have knowledge” about idols. Monotheism by its very nature rules out any genuine reality to idols (8:1, 4)—a point, of course, on which Paul will agree. Apparently this meant for them that attendance at the temples had no significance one way or the other, since they saw such participation in the meals as merely a matter of their eating with friends, not of worshiping what did not exist. Indeed, it is especially difficult to understand the vigor of Paul’s response if this were not the case.
(2) They also have knowledge about food, that it is a matter of indifference to God (8:8)—another point on which Paul will agree. But their take on this matter seems to be: “Since idols are nonentities, and since food is a matter of indifference to God, it matters not neither what we eat nor where we eat it.” So how can Paul forbid their going to the temples, especially since the “gods” involved had no reality?
(3) Although one has less certainty here, they perhaps also had a somewhat “magical” view of the sacraments; those who have had Christian baptism and who partake of the Lord’s Table are not in any danger of “falling” (10:1–4), especially when the other “gods” do not exist at all.
(4) Besides, there is considerable question in the minds of many whether Paul has the proper apostolic authority to forbid them on this matter. In their minds this has been substantiated by two factors: first, his failure to accept support while with them; and second, his own apparently compromising stance regarding idol food sold in the marketplace (he abstained when eating with Jews, but ate when eating with Gentiles; cf. 9:19–23).
It seems probable that the advocates of this position were also arguing that others will be “built up” by taking “authority” in this matter (8:9–10). In any case, by pressing for this “right” in the name of gnōsis (“knowledge”), they were apparently abusing some others among them who could not make these fine distinctions. Being invited to join them at the same banquets, such believers, having “weak consciences,” were being destroyed because for them it would be a return to idolatry and an abandoning of Christ.
Thus for Paul four issues need to be squared away. Typically for him (1) his first concern is with the attitude that lay behind their behavior and argument. The abuse of others in the name of “knowledge” indicates a total misunderstanding of the nature of Christian ethics, which springs not from knowledge but from love. He thus begins his response by speaking to, what for him, is the primary question (8:1–13). (2) Also at issue, as elsewhere in the letter, is a crisis of authority (see on 1:12; 4:18–21; 5:1–5). Paul’s own conduct had been called into question and thus his authority and freedom as an apostle (9:1–3). Therefore, after having spoken to the primary issue, he then launches into a vigorous defense of his apostleship (in this case in terms of his “right” to their support, even if he has given it up; vv. 3–18) and of his freedom (to act as he does about marketplace food; vv. 19–23). (3) But also at issue is their misunderstanding of the true nature of idolatry and their false security in the Christian sacraments. Hence in returning to the primary issue (10:1–13) he warns them, on the basis of analogies from Israel, that the Christian sacraments are no sure protection against such disobedience. At long last (vv. 14–22) he finally returns to the primary issue and absolutely prohibits attendance at cultic meals. Here he expands considerably on what is said at the outset (8:4–6) to remind them that, even though no real “god” is involved, such “idolatry” did involve them in the worship of demons. (4) At the end (10:23–11:1) he adds a final word about the eating of marketplace food per se. They may buy and eat at will (v. 25), with the one proviso that they should abstain if in a pagan home someone points out its temple origins (vv. 27–28).
Since this perspective on these chapters was first proposed some three decades ago, there has been a considerable response both pro and con, and often with helpful modifications or alternatives. But what often seems to be missed in much of this literature are what would appear to be the two key matters: (1) the general, one might say amazing, disregard of the role of the clear statement Paul makes early on (v. 10), which from any perspective should be perceived as the crucial key to everything; it remains difficult to understand the general tendency to sidestep the clear implications of this passage; (2) that Paul’s understanding of idolatry as the locus of demonic activity (10:20–21) can be so easily, if not cavalierly, pushed aside. This is surely a Western prejudice, while interpreters from other continents (esp. Asia and Africa) have no trouble at all with this passage. In any case, given Paul’s absolute open-endedness in the concluding section (10:23–11:1) regarding food purchased in the market, this explicit prohibition in the elaboration of the opening material would seem to be the basic key to everything in the present chapter. But many still think otherwise, and since there is very little substantial change to the commentary as such in the present chapter, I have chosen here to add a (selective) bibliographic addendum in chronological order of material written between 1985 and 2010:
J. C. Brunt, “Rejected, Ignored, or Misunderstood? The Fate of Paul’s Approach to the Problem of Food Offered to Idols in Early Christianity,” NTS 31 (1985), 113–24; J. A. Davis, “The Interaction between Individual Ethical Conscience and Community Ethical Consciousness in 1 Corinthians,” Horizons in Biblical Theology 10 (1988), 1–18; B. N. Fisk, “Eating Meat Offered to Idols: Corinthian Behavior and Pauline Response in 1 Corinthians 8–10 (A Response to Gordon Fee),” TrinJ 10 (1989), 49–70; B. W. Winter, “Theological and Ethical Responses to Religious Pluralism—1 Corinthians 8–10,” TynB 41 (1990), 209–26; B. Witherington, “Not So Idle Thoughts about eidōlothuton,” TynB 44 (1993), 237–54; J. J. Meggitt, “Meat Consumption and Social Conflict in Corinth,” JTS 45 (1994), 137–42; T. Söding, “Starke und Schwache. Der Götzenopferstreit in 1 Cor 8–10 als Paradigma paulinischer Ethik,” ZNW 85 (1994), 69–92; B. Witherington, “Why Not Idol Meat? Is It What You Eat or Where You Eat It?” BibRev 10 (1994), 38–43, 54–44; D. Horrell, “Theological Principle or Christological Praxis? Pauline Ethics in 1 Corinthians 8.1–11.1,” JSNT 67 (1997), 83–114; J. Smit, “Paulus ‘over de afgodsoffers.’ De kerk tussen joden en grieken (1 Kor. 8,1–11,1),” Tijdschrift voor theologie 37 (1997), 228–43; B. J. Oropeza []; D.-A. Koch, “ ‘Alles, was ἐν μακέλλω verkauft wird, esst. . . .’ Die macella von Pompeji, Gerasa und Korinth und ihre Bedeutung für die Auslegung von 1 Kor 10,25,” ZNW 90 (1999), 194–219; J. Fotopoulos, “The Rhetorical Situation, Arrangement, and Argumentation of 1 Corinthians 8:1–13,” GOTR 47 (2002), 165–98; E. C. Still, “The Meaning and Uses of ΕΙΔΩΛΟΘΥΤΟΝ in First Century Non-Pauline Literature and 1 Cor 8:1–11:1: Toward Resolution of the Debate,” TrinJ 23 (2002), 225–34; idem, “Paul’s Aim regarding Εἰδωλόθυτα: A New Proposal for Interpreting 1 Corinthians 8:1–11:1,” NovT 44 (2002), 333–43; J. Fotopoulos, Food Offered to Idols in Roman Corinth: A Social-Rhetorical Reconsideration of 1 Corinthians 8:1–11:1 (Tübingen, 2003); D. E. Garland, “The Dispute over Food Sacrificed to Idols (1 Cor 8:1–11:1),” PRS 30 (2003), 173–97; S. Kim, “Imitatio Christi (1 Corinthians 11:1): How Paul Imitated Jesus Christ in Dealing with Idol Food (1 Corinthians 8–10),” BBR 13 (2003), 193–226; P. Farla, “The Rhetorical Composition of 1 Cor 8,1–11,1,” ETL 80 (2004), 144–66; J. Kloha, “Idols, Eating, and Rights (1 Cor. 8:1–11:1): Faithful and Loving Witness in a Pluralistic Culture,” ConcJ 30 (2004), 178–202; E. C. Still, “Divisions over Leaders and Food Offered to Idols: The Parallel Thematic Structures of 1 Corinthians 4:6–21 and 8:1–11:1,” TynB 55 (2004), 17–41; J. Fotopoulos, “Arguments concerning Food Offered to Idols: Corinthian Quotations and Pauline Refutations in a Rhetorical Partitio (1 Corinthians 8:1–9),” CBQ 67 (2005), 611–31; B. W. de Wet, “’n Christosentriese koinonia-dinamiek agter Paulus se hantering van sekere problematiek in 1 Korintiërs (A Christocentric Koinonia-Dynamic as a Frame of Mind from Which Paul Addresses Some of the Issues in 1 Corinthians),” VerbEccl 27 (2006), 821–50; W. Willis, “1 Corinthians 8–10: A Retrospective after Twenty-Five Years,” RestQ 49 (2007), 103–12.
Although Paul will eventually, and in very strong terms, forbid the Corinthian believers’ going to the temples, his first concern is with the thoroughly misguided ethical basis of their argument. The problem is primarily attitudinal. They think Christian conduct is predicated on gnōsis (“knowledge”) and that knowledge gives them exousia (“rights/freedom”) to act as they wish in this matter. Paul has another view: The content of their knowledge is only partially correct; but more importantly, gnōsis is not the primary ground of Christian behavior; agapē (“love”) is.
Thus Paul begins by refuting the opening words of their argument, “we all possess knowledge.” He first insists that “knowledge” as such is not the primary basis for Christian behavior (vv. 1–3). He follows that (vv. 4–6) by taking up the issue of the merely partial nature of their “knowledge.” These two preliminary words serve as the basis for the argument that follows (vv. 7–13). Since not all do in fact have this knowledge, at least not in the internalized sense of “knowing,” Christian conduct must first of all be based on love. In this case love takes the form of “the stumbling-block principle,” which does not have to do with “offending” someone but with causing others to fall by urging them to participate in an action they can do only against their own conscience.
1Now about food sacrificed to idols: We know that “We all possess knowledge.” But knowledge puffs up while love builds up. 2Those who think they know something do not yet know as they ought to know. 3But whoever loves God is known by God.
The most striking thing about this opening paragraph is how non sequitur it seems to be. Paul begins with the regular rubric “now about” (cf. 7:1), having as its present content “food sacrificed to idols.” But what immediately follows (vv. 1b–3) says nothing about eating or food or idols; rather, he sets forth knowledge and love in bold relief—words that do not immediately come to mind as natural opposites. Only after this opening salvo does he again pick up the topic with which he began in (v. 1a). Since this section concludes (vv. 7–13) with a considerable assault on their acting on the basis of knowledge alone, one can be sure that this forms the basis of the Corinthian response to Paul, and that he considers it to lie at the root of the problem, and thus to be the greater problem.
Paul’s response goes right to the heart of things. Their emphasis is totally wrong; the aim of our faith is not knowledge but love. Knowledge and love are thus contrasted in two ways. First, the net effect of each (knowledge puffs up; love builds up); second, the difference it makes for the one doing the knowing or loving. Both sets of sentences are neatly balanced; the sharpness of the contrast is heightened by the asyndeton in each of the first sentences, plus the contrasting “but” (de) is found between the two members in each set. Thus:
Knowledge puffs up
but
Love builds up.
If anyone thinks they have come to know [anything],
they do not yet know as they ought to know;
but
if anyone loves [God],
this one is known [by God].
1 The “now about” that begins the sentence, as well as the completely new content, signals that Paul is picking up yet another item from their letter, “food sacrificed to idols.” As earlier (7:1; 6:12–13) he begins by citing their letter, apparently intending, as the beginning of the next paragraph indicates, to start out by qualifying the content of their knowledge. He begins, “We are aware, along with yourselves, that ‘we all possess knowledge.’ ” But he gets only that far and immediately breaks off to qualify that reality first. There is a sense in which their motto is true (as vv. 4–6 affirm); but there is another sense in which it is not true at all (v. 7, “but not all have this knowledge”!). This latter reality is what makes their behavior unloving.
One should note that they did not say “we all know,” but that “we all possess gnōsis.” This is one of three places where this word appears in our letter (cf. 1:5; 12:8); here it predominates. Along with logos (“speech, rhetoric”; cf. 1:5, 17; 2:1–5) and sophia (“wisdom”; cf. 1:17–31), this is almost certainly an “in” word in Corinth. This is made all the more certain by the evidence from three other passages (1:5, 12:8, and 13:1–3). Logos and gnōsis are the two gifts singled out for special mention in the thanksgiving; the logos of “wisdom” and the logos of “knowledge” appear as the first two items in the list of spiritual gifts (12:8); and “speech” and “knowledge” will receive special billing in the contrast with love (13:1–3, 8–13). In their minds being “spiritual” apparently meant to have received gnōsis, meaning probably that the Spirit had endued them with special knowledge, which all believers should have as they do, and which should serve as the basis of Christian behavior.
Not so, says Paul, and his qualification is a particularly powerful statement about the basic nature of Christian ethics. All the more so if the Corinthians themselves had used the word “build up” in their own slogans, a suggestion made the more plausible by Paul’s later use of that term (8:10; 10:23). They would have urged that by following conduct based on knowledge believers would be “built up” in their exousia (rights, freedom; 8:10). Thus for them “knowledge builds up.” If so, then Paul is turning all this in on them. Not only does knowledge not “build up,” it “puffs up” the individual (v. 1b) and “destroys” others (v. 11); and exousia is not the final goal of Christian ethics, but what is “beneficial” and “constructive” is (10:23). The problem with conduct predicated primarily on knowledge is that it results in even greater sinfulness. Knowledge leads to pride; it “puffs up” (cf. 4:6, 18; 5:2). But that is not true of “love.” Not only is love “not puffed up” (13:4, the final occurrence of this word in the letter), but quite the opposite, it “builds up.” The aim of Christian ethics is not Stoic self-sufficiency, which requires proper knowledge; rather, its aim is the benefit and advantage of a sister or brother. Thus it is the opposite of their behavior Paul will go on to describe (vv. 7–12), which sets a stumbling block before others.
2–3 This second set of contrasts between knowledge and love adds yet a further dimension to Paul’s qualification of “we all possess knowledge.” Unfortunately, these two clauses experienced considerable difficulty in the early textual transmission process, leaving us with less than final certainty. The standard text (translated by the NIV) reads (minus the brackets):
If anyone thinks they know [something],
they do not yet know as they ought to know;
but
If anyone loves [God],
this one is known [by God].
The earliest witnesses in Egypt (Clement and P46), the home of the best-preserved Greek text, lack the words in brackets, resulting in a text that reads:
If anyone thinks they have arrived at knowledge,
this person does not yet know as they ought to know;
but
If anyone loves,
this person truly knows (or, is known).
This latter reading fits the context so perfectly that it is either the Pauline original or else the work of an editorial genius, which is not the norm for most ancient scribes.
With either reading the meaning of the first clause (v. 2) is basically the same. The addition of the Greek word meaning “something,” however, tends to put the emphasis on the content of what is known. The text without this two-letter Greek word, which on internal grounds is much more likely original, places the emphasis on the reality of having knowledge as such. The perfect tense of the infinitive implies that they consider themselves to have arrived, as far as knowledge is concerned. Paul’s point, therefore, is not that “a little knowledge is a dangerous thing” (which is usually true, and would fit their situation); rather, it is biting irony. The person who thinks they are “in the know” by that very fact has given evidence that they do not yet have the real thing. Like the person who “thinks they are wise” (3:18), the one who thinks they have knowledge is self-deceived; true knowledge has eluded them. Thus the clause “that person does not yet know as they ought to know” does not refer to some lack of content, but to the lack of real gnōsis itself, which, as the next clause (v. 3) points out, has to do with agapē, love.
That leads to the real problem with the standard Greek text of v. 3, which seems to deflect Paul’s point by a considerable margin. He is not here dealing with loving (or knowing) God. Rather, his concern is with their failure to act in love toward some in their midst who do not share their “knowledge.” The standard text, it should be pointed out, does indeed reflect Paul’s theology of God’s prior action in our behalf. That is, our love of God is predicated on God’s prior knowledge of us. The problem is in finding a satisfactory reason for the apostle to have said that here. On the other hand, the text of Clement and P46 reflects exactly the point of the contrast. True gnōsis consists not in the accumulation of so much data, nor even in the correctness of one’s theology, but in the fact that one has learned to live in love toward all; such “knowledge” is the real thing. The final verb may be either middle or passive voice. If middle it suggests that the person who loves “has reached the fullness of gnōsis”; if passive it suggests that the person who loves is the one who is truly “known,” that is, is “recognized” by God as having knowledge, the real thing. In either case, this shorter text brings Paul’s point home so powerfully that it is most likely what he originally wrote.
But why does Paul begin his response to the matter of idol meat in this way? Probably because he does basically agree with the theological premises that he will next take up—although he will have his own unique way of qualifying these as well. But he knows that what they are doing with their knowledge is dead wrong; and this is the more serious problem. So he begins by qualifying their understanding of gnōsis itself. Christian behavior is not predicated on the way of knowledge, which can lead to pride and destroy others, but on the way of love, which is in fact the true way of knowledge. All of this will be spelled out in greater detail in the explanation that follows (vv. 7–13), and especially in his “rhapsody” about love that comes much later (chap. 13).
The tyranny of “knowledge” as the basis of Christian ethics has a long and unfortunate history in the church, from which most likely few who read—as well as the one who writes—this commentary are exempt. Once one’s theology is properly in hand, it is especially tempting to use it as a kind of insiders’ club on others. And in this case, such behavior occurs from the theological right as well as from the left. This does not mean that knowledge is either irrelevant or unimportant, but it does mean that it cannot serve as the primary basis of Christian behavior. In Christian ethics “knowledge” must always lead to love. One should always beware of those teachers or systems that entice one by special “revelation” or “deeper insights.” Such appeals are invariably to one’s pride, not to one’s becoming a more truly loving follower of Jesus. While it is true that “insight” often leads to “freedom,” it is also true that it often results finally in the demand for “freedom” in the form of “rights.” This is what had happened at Corinth. In the Christian faith “knowledge” or “insight” is never an end in itself; it is only a means to a greater end, the building up of others.
4So then, about eating food sacrificed to idols: We know that “An idol is nothing at all in the world” and that “There is no God but one.” 5For even if there are so-called gods, whether in heaven or on earth (as indeed there are many “gods” and many “lords”), 6yet for us there is but one God, the Father, from whom all things came and for whom we live; and there is but one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom all things came and through whom we live.
After the brief qualifying word about the way of love superseding the way of knowledge, Paul now resumes what he began at the outset (v. 1). Again he quotes from their letter, in this case two propositions affirming monotheism (v. 4); and again he qualifies what they have said, but in a most unusual way. There is no way, of course, that he could disagree with their propositions as such. What he does instead is to set off their Christian faith from the pagan religions that are involved in the present conflict over sacrificial food. Thus what follows takes the form of a concessive sentence in which the protasis (v. 5) sets off pagan religions from the Christian affirmations found in the apodosis (v. 6). But the protasis is stated in such a way that it not only sets up the immediate contrasts (v. 6) but also anticipates the problem of the person with a “weak conscience” that follows (v. 7). At the same time Paul leaves the door open for the ultimate qualification that is to come later (10:19–20).
In neither case does Paul allow actual reality to the “gods” of idolatry. What he does rather is to anticipate the next step in the argument (v. 7), that such “gods” have subjective reality for their worshipers; that is, the pagan deities do not exist as objective realities, but they do “exist” in the minds of those who have given them a pseudo-reality by believing in them. Hence in this sense there are indeed “gods many” and “lords many.” A bit later (chap. 10) Paul will again deny that an actual “god” is involved; what the Corinthians have not taken seriously is that pagan religion is the locus of demonic activity, and that to worship such “gods” is in fact to fellowship with demons. But that comes later; for now the emphasis lies on his agreement with them that in contrast to the “gods many” and “lords many” there is for us only one God, namely the Father, and only one Lord, namely Jesus Christ. The net result is one of the truly significant theological statements in our letter, not to mention the Pauline corpus as a whole.
4 The clearly resumptive force of the “so then” and the repeating of “about eating food sacrificed to idols” indicate that Paul is returning to the topic at hand. With this sentence he picks up the two basic propositions of their argument. He begins as before (v. 1), “we know that,” meaning that he is affirming as true what they have said.
The two propositions together form a strong affirmation of monotheism over against every form of polytheism or henotheism. Not only is there only one God, but there is a correlative denial that idols have any reality at all. This proclamation would not have been some new thing for the Corinthians; what is new is how they apparently have used it in their own argument. The order in which the two sentences appear suggests that the Corinthians’ main point is that an idol lacks any reality. Although there is some ambiguity as to its precise nuance, what they almost certainly mean is that there is no reality to Isis or Sarapis or Asclepius. Idols, and thus “gods” to others, yes; but genuine reality in the world, no. This is so because of the basic theological statement of the Christian faith, “There is no God but one.” The Corinthians’ point will be that, since there is no reality to an idol because there is only one God, how can we be faulted for eating meals in the temple precincts, since the gods represented by these idols do not in fact exist?
That this is their point seems to be confirmed by the unusual qualification that follows. As a matter of fact, their premise is only partly true, as Paul will explain later (10:19–20). But for now his concern is altogether horizontal and completely practical, namely the effect that believing in such “gods” has had on their devotees. Hence in what follows he will both qualify and affirm even more strongly the theological predicate for their behavior. The problem does not lie with its content, but with their apparently unqualified use of it as giving them freedom to do as they will.
5 What became two verses when the fifteenth-century numbers were inserted (vv. 5–6) in fact together forms a single sentence, an anacoluthon in Greek (it does not follow grammatically), but one whose sense is clear. Indeed, even the reason for the anacoluthon can be fairly easily traced. The “for” is explanatory, picking up the theme of the two preceding propositions. Thus: “It is true that there is no reality to an idol and that there is only one God; for even if there are so-called gods (whether in heaven or on earth) . . .”; but right at that point Paul breaks off with a parenthetical aside, “just as there are indeed many gods and many lords.” Precisely how Paul intended to conclude the sentence when it began cannot be known—perhaps with something like “they do not really have existence.” In any case, the interruption calls forth an apodosis that does indeed respond to the opening concession, but does so by sharply qualifying the interrupting clause. Thus:
For
Even if there are so-called
gods,
whether
heavenly
or earthly
(just as there are indeed
many gods
A
and
many lords),
B
But for us [“Christians” is implied]
There is one God [in contrast to the many “gods”],
A′
namely the Father
from whom are all things,
and we for him;
and one Lord [in contrast to the many “lords”]
B′
through whom are all things;
and we through him
Thus Paul posits in the first instance that the “gods” are only “so-called.” This is true no matter what their abode, whether their natural one, “in heaven,” or, as so often happened in the Greek pantheon, where the deities also had a very earthly existence as well, “on earth.” Although this could represent the Corinthian position, it makes much more sense as Paul’s own construct in which he is basically setting up the argument that comes next (v. 7) and anticipating the still later qualification (10:19–20). They are “so-called” because they do not have actual existence, certainly not in the form their worshipers believe them to have. On this point, therefore, the apostle and the Corinthians are on the same page.
και γὰρ εἴπερ εἰσὶν λεγόνεμοι
θεοὶ . . .
ὥσπερ εἰσὶν
θεοὶ πολλοί . . .
But Paul also recognizes the existential reality of pagan worship, and he knows that some within the Corinthian community are going to be affected by that reality. Thus he interrupts the concession with the affirmation “as indeed there are many ‘gods’ and many ‘lords.’ ” He does not intend by this that the “gods” actually exist as objective realities. Rather, as he goes on to allow (v. 7), they “exist” subjectively in the sense that they are believed in. The two terms “gods” and “lords,” which set up the Christian confession that follows (v. 6), reflect the two basic forms of Greco-Roman religion as it had been modified by the coming of the Oriental cults. The “gods” designate the traditional deities (Zeus, Athena, etc.), who are regularly given this appellation in the literature but are almost never referred to as kyrioi (“lords”). The term kyrios, on the other hand, is the normal title for the deities of the mystery cults, those religious expressions that had by this time become full-fledged competitors to the traditional theoi (“gods”).
6 This clause forms the apodosis of the concession that preceded (v. 5), but it now exists as a sharp contrast to the interruption (v. 5b) that allowed that there are many so-called “gods” and “lords.” The strong adversative, “but,” sets what is true about “us,” that is, “ ‘us’ who believe in Christ,” over against what has preceded. Although there is no formal equivalent to the words “for us,” such as “for them” (meaning the pagans), in the preceding clause, this pronoun makes it clear that all of what is said in the protasis (v. 5) refers not to what really exists, but to what has taken a form of reality “for them.” This will be made even more clear at the beginning of the next paragraph (v. 7).
What follows is one of three expressly monotheistic texts in Paul’s letters where he uses the traditional Jewish formula “one God” (cf. Gal. 3:20; Rom. 3:29–30; 1 Tim. 2:5). Because of its rhythmic character and because there are some parallels both in Hellenism and in Hellenistic Judaism, this sentence is often considered to be a pre-Pauline creedal formulation that had its origins in Hellenistic Jewish Christianity. That can neither be proved nor disproved. It does indeed have a creedal ring to it, and reflects language found elsewhere in religious texts. But none of this means that it did not originate here with Paul. Most likely it is a Pauline construct, created ad hoc in the present argument, but making use of language that he has in common with his Hellenistic Jewish origins. In any case, it so thoroughly fits the present argument that the question of background or origin is ultimately irrelevant.
The text has several remarkable features. First, the formulae “one God” and “one Lord” stand in specific contrast to the “many gods” and “many lords” of the pagans. This means that the emphasis is not on the unity of the godhead, although that may be assumed, but on the uniqueness of the only God. The God whom Christians worship as Father and Son stands in singular contrast to all others who might be thought to be gods but are not. Furthermore, the two parts are in perfect parallel. The formulae “one God” and “one Lord” are followed by the personal designations “the Father” and “Jesus Christ” (the appellation “Son” being implied by the use of “Father” as the personal designation of God). These in turn are followed in each case by a set of prepositional phrases that express both the divine activity characteristic of each and indirectly the functional subordination of the Son to the Father. God the Father is both the ultimate source and the ultimate destiny of all things, including ourselves; the Lord Christ is the divine mediator, through whom God both created all things and redeemed us.
The first clause expresses three realities about God that are fundamental to Christian faith. First, Paul picks up the language of Jesus himself, the personal image of “Father,” to set forth the Christian understanding of God. Such a designation existed in Judaism before him, but it was Jesus who expressly taught his followers to understand God in this way. For him it was not only a term expressing his own unique self-understanding, but also his gift to his followers. Thus they, too, may have this kind of personal relationship with God. Second, he is the source, the Creator, of all things. After the fact of God’s unity, this is the next fundamental theological statement of the Judeo-Christian understanding of God. In contrast to the many gods, themselves often subject to the whims of the cosmos, the God who is known only by self-revelation and whom Christians worship stands apart from all things as their source. Nothing, absolutely nothing, lies outside the jurisdiction of the God with whom we have to do and who invites us to be related to him as child to father.
Third, instead of the expected “all things are unto him” (i.e., God is both the source and goal of all created things), Paul says, “and we are for/unto him.” The emphasis is on the “we,” which is the unique feature of this present expression of the creed. The preposition here has a kind of built-in ambiguity to it. Ordinarily in such a creedal formula it is an eschatological term, expressing the fact that God stands at the beginning and as the goal of all things. But precisely because the creed has been personalized, that goal has a very strongly telic (purpose) force to it. God is not only the one to whom we are ultimately heading, along with the whole created order, but our very existence is for his purposes. Thus Paul’s concern is not with philosophical theology, but with its practical implications for the matter at hand. Although he does not directly refer to it again, this is the ground of the entire argument that follows. By this phrase he places all of them—the Corinthians, both “gnostic” and “weak,” as well as himself—under God’s ultimate purposes, which will be spelled out more precisely in the next clause and especially at the end (v. 11).
The second clause places the work of Christ, and our relationship to him, in the closest kind of relationship to God. Although Paul does not here call Christ God, the formula is so constructed that only the most obdurate would deny its Trinitarian implications. In the same breath that he can assert that there is only one God, he equally asserts that the designation “Lord,” which in the Greek OT was used to replace the Tetragrammaton (YHWH) and thus belongs singularly to the one God, is the proper designation of the divine Son. It should be especially noted that Paul feels no tension of any kind between the affirmation of monotheism and the clear distinction between the two persons of Father and Jesus Christ. As with other such statements in the NT, Jesus is the one through whom God both created and redeemed. Thus together the two sentences embrace the whole of human existence. God the Father is the source of all things, which were mediated through the creative activity of the Son; the Son is the one through whom God also redeemed us, so that our existence is now “for” and “unto” God. As with the former clause the emphasis is on Christ’s activity in our behalf, and is therefore especially relevant to the Corinthian situation. They are arguing in the abstract, that idols do not exist because there is only one God. Paul agrees; but the redemptive activity of the Father and Son is the basis of Christian behavior—not abstract theology, even if it is true.
In sum: The Corinthians have argued that there is no reality to the “gods” represented by idols, since there is only one God. Paul agrees, but he qualifies his agreement in two directions. First, the nonexistent “gods” have a reality of a kind that must finally inform both their relationship with other believers and their own relationship to the one true God. That will be spelled out in what comes next (vv. 7–13). Second, the fuller explication of Christian monotheism argues that “our” God not only exists in uniqueness but that the Corinthians have a relationship to the one and only God that must finally determine both their own lives and how they relate to other believers.
Here is a clear example of Christian ethics being grounded in proper Christian theology. It has become common in our day to give a variety of other bases for ethical behavior. For Paul, and therefore for all who would be truly biblical Christians, there is only one ground for such behavior: The unity of God, and the fact that our existence both by creation and redemption is grounded in the one God, whom we serve and with whom we have to do. It is out of this kind of reality that Paul will eventually appeal to the death of Christ as being for others as well as for ourselves (v. 11), and therefore that love, not knowledge, must serve as the primary motive for Christian ethics.