Day 220

Ezra 7:1–8:20; 1 Corinthians 4:1-21; Psalm 30:1-12; Proverbs 20:28-30

YESTERDAY IN PAUL’s letter to the Corinthians, we considered how we attempt to gain spiritual identity based on who we follow or what tribe we belong to. In the attempt, we often elevate our leaders to high places of authority. This isn’t sinful or wrong in and of itself —leaders indeed deserve honor. We can place unrealistic expectations on them, however, by presuming them to be our only conduit to or oracle from God, because it’s easier to let someone else do the heavy lifting and simply tell us what to do, think, and believe. When we do this, we’re absolving ourselves of the responsibility of personally walking with God —and anything less than an intimate and personal relationship with God won’t work.

In our reading from 1 Corinthians 4 today, Paul taught that exalting one leader over another was a backward (and arrogant) thing to do:

If you pay attention to what I have quoted from the Scriptures, you won’t be proud of one of your leaders at the expense of another. For what gives you the right to make such a judgment? What do you have that God hasn’t given you? And if everything you have is from God, why boast as though it were not a gift?

This issue obviously struck a nerve for Paul —and for good reason. Spiritual leaders are simply servants of God’s people. The job is hard enough without the added pressure of being ranked or excluded. The glamour of leadership is a lot less sparkly when the curtain is pulled back. If you’ve ever wondered what it’s really like for your favorite man or woman of God, hear it straight from the apostle Paul:

I sometimes think God has put us apostles on display, like prisoners of war at the end of a victor’s parade, condemned to die. We have become a spectacle to the entire world —to people and angels alike.

Our dedication to Christ makes us look like fools, but you claim to be so wise in Christ! We are weak, but you are so powerful! You are honored, but we are ridiculed. Even now we go hungry and thirsty, and we don’t have enough clothes to keep warm. We are often beaten and have no home. We work wearily with our own hands to earn our living. We bless those who curse us. We are patient with those who abuse us. We appeal gently when evil things are said about us. Yet we are treated like the world’s garbage, like everybody’s trash —right up to the present moment.

We should be humbled by what a difficult calling it is for our pastors and priests to carry the burden of caring for our souls. Rather than worshiping them, we should pray for them. Rather than ranking them, we should honor them. Rather than expecting them to be flawless and superhuman people with all the right answers, let’s understand that they don’t have a hotline to God we don’t also possess. They are a gift, but they are human. They can lead us to God, but they cannot be in a relationship with Him on our behalf. When we remember this, we can receive and act on the words of the apostle Paul:

I am not writing these things to shame you, but to warn you as my beloved children. For even if you had ten thousand others to teach you about Christ, you have only one spiritual father.

WORSHIP:

You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing. You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy, that I might sing praises to you and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give you thanks forever!