To the church of God which is at Corinth, to those who
are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, with all who in every
place call on the name of Jesus Christ our Lord, both their Lord and ours:
1 Corinthians 1:2, Modern English Version (MEV)
Let's make this crystal clear from the outset; this epistle, this letter, is to those who are Christians, not just people playing as if they were Christian. They certainly were not perfect, as we'll soon see, but that doesn't mean their belief was somehow questionable. Christians are not born spiritually adults any more than any of us are born physically adult. We enter life physically and spiritually as babies who are messy, loud, and often difficult to handle, but that doesn't make us any leas a Christian, any more than it makes us any less a human.
Alexander MacLaren, from his Expositions of the Holy
Scriptures, provides us with this further insight:
There are some difficulties, with which I need not
trouble you, about both the translation and the connection of these words. One
thing is quite clear, that in them the Apostle associates the church at Corinth
with the whole mass of Christian believers in the world. The question may arise
whether he does so in the sense that he addresses his letter both to the church
at Corinth and to the whole of the churches, and so makes it a catholic
epistle. That is extremely unlikely, considering how all but entirely this
letter is taken up with dealing with the especial conditions of the Corinthian
church. Rather I should suppose that he is simply intending to remind ‘the
Church of God at Corinth . . . sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be
saints,’ that they are in real, living union with the whole body of believers.
Just as the water in a little land-locked bay, connected with the sea by some
narrow strait like that at Corinth, is yet part of the whole ocean that rolls
round the world, so that little community of Christians had its living bond of
union with all the brethren in every place that called upon the name of Jesus
Christ.
Whichever view on that detail of interpretation be taken,
this phrase, as a designation of Christians, is worth considering. It is one of
many expressions found in the New Testament as names for them, some of which
have now dropped out of general use, while some are still retained. It is
singular that the name of ‘Christian,’ which has all but superseded all others,
was originally invented as a jeer by sarcastic wits at Antioch, and never
appears in the New Testament, as a name by which believers called themselves.
Important lessons are taught by these names, such as disciples, believers,
brethren, saints, those of the way, and so on, each of which embodies some
characteristic of a follower of Jesus. So this appellation in the text, ‘those
who call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ,’ may yield not unimportant
lessons if it be carefully weighed, and to some of these I would ask your
attention now.
I. First, it gives us a glimpse into the worship of the
primitive Church.
To ‘call on the name of the Lord’ is an expression that
comes straight out of the Old Testament. It means there distinctly adoration
and invocation, and it means precisely these things when it is referred to
Jesus Christ.
We find in the Acts of the Apostles that the very first
sermon that was preached at Pentecost by Peter all turns upon this phrase. He
quotes the Old Testament saying, ‘Whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord
shall be saved,’ and then goes on to prove that ‘the Lord,’ the ‘calling on
whose Name’ is salvation, is Jesus Christ; and winds up with ‘Therefore let all
the house of Israel know assuredly that God hath made that same Jesus, whom ye
have crucified, both Lord and Christ.’
Again we find that Ananias of Damascus, when Jesus Christ
appeared to him and told him to go to Paul and lay his hands upon him, shrank
from the perilous task because Paul had been sent to ‘bind them that call upon
the name of the Lord,’ and to persecute them. We find the same phrase recurring
in other connections, so that, on the whole, we may take the expression as a
recognised designation of Christians.
This was their characteristic, that they prayed to Jesus
Christ. The very first word, so far as we know, that Paul ever heard from a
Christian was, ‘Lord Jesus! receive my spirit.’ He heard that cry of calm faith
which, when he heard it, would sound to him as horrible blasphemy from
Stephen’s dying lips. How little he dreamed that he himself was soon to cry to
the same Jesus, ‘Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?’ and was in after-days to
beseech Him thrice for deliverance, and to be answered by sufficient grace. How
little he dreamed that, when his own martyrdom was near, he too would look to
Jesus as Lord and righteous Judge, from whose hands all who loved His appearing
should receive their crown! Nor only Paul directs desires and adoration to
Jesus as Lord; the last words of Scripture are a cry to Him as Lord to come
quickly, and an invocation of His ‘grace’ on all believing souls.
Prayer to Christ from the very beginning of the Christian
Church was, then, the characteristic of believers, and He to whom they prayed,
thus, from the beginning, was recognised by them as being a Divine Person, God
manifest in the flesh.
The object of their worship, then, was known by the
people among whom they lived. Singing hymns to Christus as a god is nearly all
that the Roman proconsul in his well-known letter could find to tell his master
of their worship. They were the worshippers-not merely the disciples-of one
Christ. That was their peculiar distinction. Among the worshippers of the false
gods they stood erect; before Him, and Him only, they bowed. In Corinth there
was the polluted worship of Aphrodite and of Zeus. These men called not on the
name of these lustful and stained deities, but on the name of the Lord Jesus
Christ. And everybody knew whom they worshipped, and understood whose men they
were. Is that true about us? Do we Christian men so habitually cultivate the
remembrance of Jesus Christ, and are we so continually in the habit of invoking
His aid, and of contemplating His blessed perfections and sufficiency, that
every one who knew us would recognise us as meant by those who call on the name
of the Lord Jesus Christ?
If this be the proper designation of Christian people,
alas! alas! for so many of the professing Christians of this day, whom neither
bystanders nor themselves would think of as included in such a name!
Further, the connection here shows that the divine
worship of Christ was universal among the churches. There was no ‘place’ where
it was not practised, no community calling itself a church to whom He was not
the Lord to be invoked and adored. This witness to the early and universal
recognition in the Christian communities of the divinity of our Lord is borne
by an undisputedly genuine epistle of Paul’s. It is one of the four which the
most thorough-going destructive criticism accepts as genuine. It was written
before the Gospels, and is a voice from the earlier period of Paul’s
apostleship. Hence the importance of its attestation to this fact that all
Christians everywhere, both Jewish, who had been trained in strict monotheism,
and Gentile, who had burned incense at many a foul shrine, were perfectly
joined together in this, that in all their need they called on the name of
Jesus Christ as Lord and brought to Him, as divine, adoration not to be
rendered to any creatures. From the day of Pentecost onwards, a Christian was
not merely a disciple, a follower, or an admirer, but a worshipper of Christ,
the Lord.
II. We may see here an unfolding of the all-sufficiency
of Jesus Christ.
Note that solemn accumulation, in the language of my
text, of all the designations by which He is called, sometimes separately and
sometimes unitedly, the name of ‘our Lord Jesus Christ.’ We never find that
full title given to Him in Scripture except when the writer’s mind is labouring
to express the manifoldness and completeness of our Lord’s relations to men,
and the largeness and sufficiency of the blessings which He brings. In this
context I find in the first nine or ten verses of this chapter, so full is the
Apostle of the thoughts of the greatness and wonderfulness of his dear Lord on
whose name he calls, that six or seven times he employs this solemn, full
designation.
Now, if we look at the various elements of this great
name we shall get various aspects of the way in which calling on Christ is the
strength of our souls.
‘Call on the name of-the Lord.’ That is the Old Testament
Jehovah. There is no mistaking nor denying, if we candidly consider the
evidence of the New Testament writings, that, when we read of Jesus Christ as
‘Lord,’ in the vast majority of cases, the title is not a mere designation of
human authority, but is an attribution to Him of divine nature and dignity. We
have, then, to ascribe to Him, and to call on Him as possessing, all which that
great and incommunicable Name certified and sealed to the Jewish Church as
their possession in their God. The Jehovah of the Old Testament is our Lord of
the New. He whose being is eternal, underived, self-sufficing,
self-determining, knowing no variation, no diminution, no age, He who is
because He is and that He is, dwells in His fulness in our Saviour. To worship
Him is not to divert worship from the one God, nor is it to have other gods
besides Him. Christianity is as much monotheistic as Judaism was, and the law
of its worship is the old law-Him only shalt thou serve. It is the divine will
that all men should honour the Son, even as they honour the Father.
But what is it to call on the name of Jesus? That name
implies all the sweetness of His manhood. He is our Brother. The name ‘Jesus’
is one that many a Jewish boy bore in our Lord’s own time and before it;
though, afterwards, of course, abhorrence on the part of the Jew and reverence
on the part of the Christian caused it almost entirely to disappear. But at the
time when He bore it it was as undistinguished a name as Simeon, or Judas, or
any other of His followers’ names. To call upon the name of Jesus means to
realise and bring near to ourselves, for our consolation and encouragement, for
our strength and peace, the blessed thought of His manhood, so really and
closely knit to ours; to grasp the blessedness of the thought that He knows our
frame because He Himself has worn it, and understands and pities our weakness,
being Himself a man. To Him whom we adore as Lord we draw near in tenderer, but
not less humble and prostrate, adoration as our brother when we call on the
name of the Lord Jesus, and thus embrace as harmonious, and not contradictory,
both the divinity of the Lord and the humanity of Jesus.
To call on the name of Christ is to embrace in our faith
and to beseech the exercise on our behalf of all which Jesus is as the Messiah,
anointed by God with the fulness of the Spirit. As such He is the climax, and
therefore the close of all revelation, who is the long-expected fruition of the
desire of weary hearts, the fulfilment, and therefore the abolition, of
sacrifice and temple and priesthood and prophecy and all that witnessed for Him
ere He came. We further call on the name of Christ the Anointed, on whom the
whole fulness of the Divine Spirit dwelt in order that, calling upon Him, that
fulness may in its measure be granted to us.
So the name of the Lord Jesus Christ brings to view the
divine, the human, the Messiah, the anointed Lord of the Spirit, and Giver of
the divine life. To call on His name is to be blessed, to be made pure and
strong, joyous and immortal. ‘The name of the Lord is a strong tower, the
righteous runneth into it and is safe.’ Call on His name in the day of trouble
and ye shall be heard and helped.
III. Lastly, this text suggests what a Christian life
should be.
We have already remarked that to call on the name of
Jesus was the distinctive peculiarity of the early believers, which marked them
off as a people by themselves. Would it be a true designation of the bulk of
so-called Christians now? You do not object to profess yourself a Christian,
or, perhaps, even to say that you are a disciple of Christ, or even to go the
length of calling yourself a follower and imitator. But are you a worshipper of
Him? In your life have you the habit of meditating on Him as Lord, as Jesus, as
Christ, and of refreshing and gladdening dusty days and fainting strength by
the living water, drawn from the one unfailing stream from these triple
fountains? Is the invocation of His aid habitual with you?
There needs no long elaborate supplication to secure His
aid. How much has been done in the Church’s history by short bursts of prayer,
as ‘Lord, help me!’ spoken or unspoken in the moment of extremity! ‘They cried
unto God in the battle.’ They would not have time for very lengthy petitions
then, would they? They would not give much heed to elegant arrangement of them
or suiting them to the canons of human eloquence. ‘They cried unto God in the
battle’; whilst the enemy’s swords were flashing and the arrows whistling about
their ears. These were circumstances to make a prayer a ‘cry’; no composed and
stately utterance of an elegantly modulated voice, nor a languid utterance
without earnestness, but a short, sharp, loud call, such as danger presses from
panting lungs and parched throats. Therefore the cry was answered, ‘and He was
entreated of them.’ ‘Lord, save us, we perish!’ was a very brief prayer, but it
brought its answer. And so we, in like manner, may go through our warfare and
work, and day by day as we encounter sudden bursts of temptation may meet them
with sudden jets of petition, and thus put out their fires. And the same help
avails for long-continuing as for sudden needs. Some of us may have to carry
lifelong burdens and to fight in a battle ever renewed. It may seem as if our
cry was not heard, since the enemy’s assault is not weakened, nor our power to
beat it back perceptibly increased. But the appeal is not in vain, and when the
fight is over, if not before, we shall know what reinforcements of strength to
our weakness were due to our poor cry entering into the ears of our Lord and
Brother. No other ‘name’ is permissible as our plea or as recipient of our
prayer. In and on the name of the Lord we must call, and if we do, anything is
possible rather than that the promise which was claimed for the Church and
referred to Jesus, in the very first Christian preaching on Pentecost, should
not be fulfilled-’Whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’
‘In every place.’ We may venture to subject the words of
my text to a little gentle pressure here. The Apostle only meant to express the
universal characteristics of Christians everywhere. But we may venture to give
a different turn to the words, and learn from them the duty of devout communion
with Christ as a duty for each of us wherever we are. If a place is not fit to
pray in it is not fit to be in. We may carry praying hearts, remembrances of
the Lord, sweet, though they may be swift and short, contemplations of His
grace, His love, His power, His sufficiency, His nearness, His punctual help,
like a hidden light in our hearts, into all the dusty ways of life, and in
every place call on His name. There is no place so dismal but that thoughts of
Him will make sunshine in it; no work so hard, so commonplace, so prosaic, so
uninteresting, but that it will become the opposite of all these if whatever we
do is done in remembrance of our Lord. Nothing will be too hard for us to do,
and nothing too bitter for us to swallow, and nothing too sad for us to bear,
if only over all that befalls us and all that we undertake and endeavour we
make the sign of the Cross and call upon the name of the Lord. If ‘in every
place’ we have Him as the object of our faith and desire, and as the Hearer of
our petition, in ‘every place’ we shall have Him for our help, and all will be
full of His bright presence; and though we have to journey through the
wilderness we shall ever drink of that spiritual rock that will follow us, and
that Rock is Christ. In every place call upon His name, and every place will be
a house of God, and a gate of heaven to our waiting souls.
1 Corinthians 1:2, Modern English Version (MEV)
Let's make this crystal clear from the outset; this epistle, this letter, is to those who are Christians, not just people playing as if they were Christian. They certainly were not perfect, as we'll soon see, but that doesn't mean their belief was somehow questionable. Christians are not born spiritually adults any more than any of us are born physically adult. We enter life physically and spiritually as babies who are messy, loud, and often difficult to handle, but that doesn't make us any leas a Christian, any more than it makes us any less a human.
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