2. The obligation to preach the gospel. "Necessity is laid upon me." There is a Divine must in the case of every true preacher, as there was in the case of Jesus. The love of Christ, not less than the command of Christ, constrains him. It is with him as with the prophet: "Then I said, I will not make mention of him, nor speak any more in his Name. But his word was in mine heart as a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I was weary with forbearing, and I could not stay" (Jeremiah 20:9).
3. The doctrine of reward. The apostle's statement regarding the reward he expected for his optional renunciation of support has been adduced by popish divines in support of their doctrine of supererogation; but it will not bear such an application. The distinction he makes is between what was plainly a part of his bounden duty as a steward, and what seemed best for the furtherance of the gospel in his peculiar circumstances. In one sense it was a matter for his own choice whether he should accept a temporal maintenance, but this is not the sense required by the Romish argument. Whatever promises to conduce to the furtherance of Christ's kingdom, becomes thereby a duty to the apostle; for "to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin" (James 4:17). There is no act which is not included under love to God and love to man. There is no self denial to which the love of Christ should not prompt us. The gospel doctrine of reward does not rest on any theory of supererogation, but rather on the principle that God is pleased to recognize the fidelity of his servants.—B.
1 Corinthians 9:19-23
The principle of accommodation.
Paul's resolve to preach the gospel without charge was but one instance of the general rule which guided his life. Though under obligation to none, he yet became the servant of all—"all things to all men." He accommodated himself to the Jews (1 Corinthians 9:20), as when he circumcised Timothy (Acts 16:3) and purified himself in the temple (Acts 21:26). He accommodated himself to the Gentiles (1 Corinthians 9:21), by refusing to impose the Law of Moses (Galatians 2:5) and by meeting them on their own ground (Acts 17:22-31). He accommodated himself to the weak (1 Corinthians 9:22), as when he abstained from meat because of their scruples (1 Corinthians 8:13). Consider—
I. ACCOMMODATION AS A RULE OF MINISTERIAL PRACTICE. There is a high sense in which every minister of Christ is called to become "all things to all men." We are to adapt ourselves to the circumstances, modes of thought, and even the harmless prejudices of those among whom we labour. In dealing with human souls, we must not stand upon points of etiquette, but be ready when occasion requires to sacrifice our preferences and sometimes our rights. This principle will cover matters of dress and modes of living, as also our choice of recreation and amusement. William Burns, missionary to China, adopted the Chinese dress that he might the more easily gain access to the people. On the same ground we shall present the truth in language which our hearers understand, whether they are children or adults. This happy faculty of adaptation has frequently proved of great service to the gospel.
II. LIMITS TO BE OBSERVED IN FOLLOWING THIS RULE. The highest things may frequently be mistaken for the lowest. Christian accommodation may be confounded with time serving, but nothing is more unlike. The man whose principles are flexible, who trims and carves to serve his purpose, who is a devout Christian in this company and a railing scoffer in that, may be said to be "all things to all men;" but such a man is a mere jelly fish character, a mass of moral pulp. For such accommodation as Paul practised there is needed the highest principle, the strongest consistency; and in order to this, certain limits are to be observed.
1. It must not lead us to do or tolerate that which is sinful. This limit is transgressed by Jesuit missionaries when they suffer their converts to retain part of their old idolatrous worship.
2. It must not lead us to keep back any essential truth because it is unpopular. This were cowardice and infidelity to cur trust.
3. It must not lead us to do anything which would compromise the Christian name. "Let not your good be evil spoken of" (Romans 14:16).
III. MOTIVES THAT PROMPT US TO FOLLOW THIS RULE. These are:
1. A desire to save others. It is not a wish to please men, but a desire to remove every hindrance to the reception of the gospel. With this end in view, we shall not find it difficult to become "all things to all men." A human soul is not too dearly won at the cost of a little self sacrifice. In this aspect the rule we are considering is but a faint copy of the great accommodation—the incarnation and work of Jesus Christ.
2. A regard to our personal salvations. (1 Corinthians 9:23.) Paul connects his work "for the gospel's sake" with his being a "joint partaker" of its blessings. In work for the good of others we must not be unmindful of our own good; and there is nothing more conducive to our spiritual benefit than faithful, self denying service for Christ. "Continue in these things; for in doing this thou shalt both save thyself and them that hear thee" (1 Timothy 4:16).—B.
1 Corinthians 9:24-27
The race for the prize.
The thought introduced in 1 Corinthians 9:23, that Paul's self denial had a reference to his own salvation as well as the salvation of others, is here carried on and applied generally to all Christians. The imagery is derived from the Isthmian games celebrated in the neighbourhood of Corinth, and therefore well known to his readers. These games occupied a place in the national life of Greece corresponding to that occupied by the great yearly festivals in the life of Israel There is no reference to them in the Gospels, as they were unknown in Palestine, but more than once they are used in the Epistles as a metaphorical representation of the Christian life (comp. Philippians 3:14; 2 Timothy 4:7, 2 Timothy 4:8; Hebrews 12:1). Consider—
I. THE RACE. The stadium presented an animating spectacle. At this end stand the competing athletes, awaiting the signal to start; at the other end is the judge, holding in his hand the prize; whilst all around, rising tier upon tier, are the seats crowded with spectators. The Christian life is a race for the great prize offered by God to the successful runner. At conversion we take our place in the racecourse and have our names proclaimed by the herald. The leading ideas in the figure are:
1. Progress. "Forgetting the things which are behind, and stretching forward to the things which are before, I press on," etc. (Philippians 3:13).
2. Earnestness. The Christian life is one of strenuous effort—every muscle strung, every faculty called into exercise. No place for lukewarmness or indifference here.
3. Concentration. "One thing! do." The runner, with eye on the goal and all else out of view, bends his whole strength to this single effort. Dissipation of energy, the multa rather than the multum, is a source of weakness in spiritual life. "One thing is needful."
4. Endurance. "Let us run with patience" (Hebrews 12:1). To faint or fall is to lose the prize. The cross must be borne to the end. Nothing but "patient continuance in well doing" will conduct us to the goal (comp. James 1:12).
II. CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS IN THE RACE. To run well we must run as the successful racer. The end in view must be clear: we must know what we are running for ("not uncertainly"). Here specially emphasize the preparatory condition—self restraint. The athlete under training was required to avoid excess in eating and drinking, and every form of fleshly indulgence. The Christian athlete must practise a like temperance if he would run his course with success. In this point of view the body is the antagonist with which we contend, and which must be buffeted and bruised rather than suffered to gain the mastery over us. How many Christians are hindered in their spiritual course by lack of self restraint! The worship of comfort, the love of luxury, not to speak of such indulgences as are clearly sinful, cause many to lag in the race. An intemperate use of, or affection for, things in themselves good, is a most insidious snare in the path of spiritual advancement. Bodily mortification is not spirituality, but it is often helpful towards its attainment. The Christian runner must lay aside every weight as well as every sin (Hebrews 12:1).
II. THE PRIZE. This consisted of a chaplet of leaves—olive, parsley, pine. In addition, the name of the victor was celebrated in a triumphal ode and a statue was erected to his memory. It was a great honour—one of the greatest in a land where the gymnastic art was so highly appreciated; and even Roman emperors (Nero, e.g.) did not hesitate to enter the lists. But at best it was, like all earthly honours, corruptible. These crowns would quickly fade, that applause would soon cease. The prize for which the Christian contends is an incorruptible crown. It is the "crown of righteousness" (2 Timothy 4:8), the "crown of life" (James 1:12; Revelation 2:10), the "crown of glory" (1 Peter 5:4). To have righteousness and life in perfection is our true glory, and this is the very crown of cur being. A crown composed of such materials cannot fade away. All the trees in that country are evergreen. What an object to fill the eye and fire the soul! A proud moment when the successful runner had the chaplet of leaves put on his brow! A grandee moment for the Christian athlete when the pierced hand of Jesus places on his head the crown of glory! And if men endure so much and strive so earnestly for the corruptible, how much more should we endure and strive in order to obtain the incorruptible!
REMARKS.
1. The human side of the Christian life is strongly emphasized in the figure of the race; but along with this we must take the other side of the truth. Without the grace of God we cannot run. Mark the striking combination in Philippians 2:12, Philippians 2:13.
2. Notice the apostle's self distrust. He is not ashamed to confess that he brings his body into subjection, "lest by any means, after that I have preached to others, I myself should be rejected." Compare such outbursts of confident assurance as Romans 8:38, Romans 8:39, and 2 Timothy 1:12, and regard the one as the complement of the other. Self diffidence goes hand in hand with genuine assurance. A lesson for all Christians, and especially for all preachers.—B.
HOMILIES BY J. WAITE
1 Corinthians 9:16
Compulsory service.
The apostle here affords us a passing glimpse of his own state of mind in reference to his high calling as a "preacher of the gospel." The revelation of the secret workings of an earnest human spirit must needs be deeply interesting to us, and most of all in the case of a man of such noble nature as Paul, and in reference to a matter of such supreme moment. We could scarcely have a finer view of the ministry of the Word, a finer model of right thought and feeling about it, than is presented in these simple but lofty words. Chiefly three elements of feeling are here expressed.
I. A SENSE OF THE DIGNITY OF THE PREACHER'S OFFICE. The preaching of the Word is evidently regarded here as a fixed and permanent institution of the Church, a work to which men are divinely called to consecrate themselves, and from which they may draw the necessary support of their life (1 Corinthians 9:14). And the fact that Paul disavows all self glorying on account of it, implies that there is that in the office which might lead a man unduly to exalt himself. But what is the real nature of its dignity? It is very different from that which belongs to social rank or any kind of worldly distinction. Much mischief springs from losing sight of this difference. Ever since the time when a halo of worldly glory began to be thrown around the witness for Christ, and the ideas of social elevation, priestly supremacy, large emolument, luxurious ease, came to be associated with it, it has been degraded by the intrusion of false motive, and by being made the prize of a purely carnal ambition. The dignity Paul recognizes in it is that which is inherent in all high and holy service; the honour he would have paid to it is that which is due to a faithful discharge of sacred responsibility. The dignity of the preacher's function lies in such facts as these:
1. It brings a man, more than any other office does, into habitual contact with the mind of God and with the realities of the invisible world. Not that he who sustains it has in this respect a privilege denied to others. Every path of human life may be thus gilded and gladdened by the heavenly glory. But it is his special business, by habits of thought and prayer, to become mere deeply conversant than other men with the revelations of God and the things unseen and eternal. And the fact that his work demands that mind and heart should be ever dwelling in such a high spiritual region, imparts a greatness and dignity to it surpassing that of all others.
2. It brings him into a purely spiritual relationship with his fellow men. Other human relations are more superficial. The world recognizes no bonds of union but such as grow out of the passing interests and experiences of this present life. To the preacher of the gospel, as such, the secular aspect of the position men occupy is nothing as compared with the spiritual. He "knows no man after the flesh." He has to do with the nobler, the immortal part of them, "to watch for their souls as one that must give account."
3. It leads on to eternal issues. All the grandeur of the endless futurity overshadows it. None of our earthly businesses have reference merely to the issues of time. Lines of moral influence are connected with them that stretch out into the great hereafter. But this is specially the case with the work of the Christian teacher, It must have infinite developments. It is the seed sewing for an eternal harvest. It is to every man "none other than the savour of life unto life, or of death unto death."
II. THE SENSE OF PERSONAL UNWORTHINESS. "Though I preach the gospel, I have nothing to glory of." The conscious dignity of his office is coupled with deep humility. "Who is sufficient for these things?" (2 Corinthians 2:16). Paul's humility, indeed, was not that of the man who is always doubting his right to the position he occupies, and fitness for the work he is doing. He knew that he bore the stamp and seal of a Divine commission.. And every true preacher of the Word must in a measure share this feeling. If a man has no conscious or acknowledged fitness for the work, he has no business to undertake it. But it must needs be that, in hours of calm reflection, in the solitude and silence of the night, he will often lie
"Contemplating his own unworthiness."
Many things will serve to humble him.
1. The thought that he is but an instrument in the hands of God (1 Corinthians 3:5-7).
2. The fact that, in proclaiming the mercy of God to sinners, he has to look upon himself as the foremost of those who need that mercy (1 Timothy 1:15, 1 Timothy 1:16).
3. The light the Word he preaches continually sheds on the evils of his own heart and life.
4. The sense of the subtle spiritual dangers that beset his sacred calling.
5. The fear "lest that by any means, having preached to others, he himself should be a castaway" (1 Corinthians 9:27).
III. A SENSE OF MORAL CONSTRAINT. "Necessity is laid upon me," etc. The apostle felt that he had been invested by the risen Lord with a very solemn stewardship, and That he dared not be unfaithful to it. The heaviest of all "woes," the woe of a remorseful conscience, the woe of a spirit that has fallen from the height of a glory that might have been its own forever, would fall upon him if he did. His would be the misery of being basely untrue to himself as well as to iris Divine Master. There are two kinds of moral "necessity"—the necessity of an external force and that of an internal: the necessity of an outward law, backed by some form of outward penalty; and the necessity of an inward impulse, backed by the sacred fear of inward shame and loss. It was this latter kind of necessity of which he was supremely conscious. It was consistent with perfect moral freedom, because it was of the nature of a resistless force in the depths of his own soul, the decision of his own will, the impulse of his own heart. The will of God had imposed this stewardship, this "dispensation of the gospel," upon him. he had been separated unto it from his very birth (Romans 1:1; Galatians 1:15). And God's will had become his will, God's purpose his purpose. The manifested love of Christ had become a constraining power within him, leading his whole being into captivity, drawing forth every energy of his nature in a holy and joyous service. This kind of "necessity" is the loftiest principle by which any human spirit can be actuated. Never is a man so great, so free, so royal, so divinely blessed, as when he is intelligently conscious of it. This is the true inspiration of gospel ministry. The harvest is great. May the Lord of the harvest "send forth labourers" thus inwardly constrained to serve him!—W.
1 Corinthians 9:22
"By all means save some."
Two points present themselves for our consideration here—
I. THE END. "To save some." What does he mean by this? What to him was the salvation of men?
1. It certainly means deliverance from a dread future calamity. "The wrath to come," "the perdition of ungodly men," was to St. Paul no dream, but an awful reality. It was worth all possible effort and self sacrifice to save men from it. If he had no other impulse than that of mere human sympathy to move him, we have here a sufficient explanation of the enthusiasm of his zeal. It is often said that if Christian people really believed the future that is before multitudes of their fellow creatures to be so dark and dreadful as they say it is, they could never rest as they do m their own natural or spiritual satisfactions. They would rather be beside themselves with a frantic agony of sympathetic sorrow and desire to save. There is truth in this. The easy indifference with which too many of us regard the condition and prospects of the godless world around us, belies the reality of our faith. Our conceptions of what the solemn issues of the future shall be may differ. Some, after anxious and earnest thought, may have arrived at the conclusion that to forecast the nature or the duration of the penalty that will then fall on the transgressor is beyond our province, and that we can only take the language of Scripture as it stands, without attempting to penetrate the haze of dreadful mystery that hangs around it. But the broad and certain facts of the case are such as may well affect us far more deeply than they do, and bring forth in us far richer and more abundant fruits of practical beneficence. It is to be feared that doctrinal controversy about the future tends to weaken rather than deepen and strengthen our impressions. We lose in speculation and debate the practical earnestness the subject itself might be expected to awaken. St. Paul lived in the clear light of the future. His soul was thrilled by the sense of its tremendous reality. And though its issues probably were no more distinct and definite to his apprehension than they are to ours, yet his faith in their certainty was such as to stir up all the noble energies of his being in the endeavour to save his fellow men.
2. But the foresight of the future was far from being the only thing that moved him; it was a present deliverance from a present calamity that he had in view. To save men now from the evil that enthralled and cursed them, ruining their Godlike nature, darkening all the glory of their life,—this was the end he sought. He was no visionary. It was no object of remote and uncertain utility, but one of most practical and immediate urgency at which he aimed. Whatever its bearing on the future may be, the influence of the gospel on the present passing life of men is so benign and blessed that our utmost zeal in diffusing it is fully justified. If we think of nothing more than the superficial social changes that Christianity has introduced, how it is at this very hour the prolific root of all social progress in every land, we see here an ample reward for all the sacrifices that have ever been made for its extension. But beneath all this there lies the fact that, as sin is the ruining, destroying power in man's nature and life, it must needs be a Godlike purpose that seeks to deliver him from it (Matthew 1:21; Acts 3:26). "That I may by all means save some." He could not hope for all, but if "some" only yielded to his persuasive word, it would be a blessed recompense. This is the inspiring hope of every true preacher and worker for Christ. The net is cast, the arrow is shot at a venture; the issue is not now made manifest. But a seemingly profitless work may be linked indirectly with results that are very great and glorious. Waves of spiritual influence, from a narrow circle, travel out where none can follow them. While there are those who shall find at last that the "great and wonderful things" they supposed they had done in the name of Christ are little recognized, there are others who will be amazed to discover that their lowly endeavours have yielded fruits of which they never dreamed. And to "save some," to be able to lay some trophies at the Master's feet, will be a blessed reward.
II. THE METHOD. "I am become all things to all men." It is remarkable that words which express the highest nobleness of an apostolic spirit should have come to be used by us in familiar discourse as descriptive of a type of character and mode of conduct that is mean and despicable. It is suggestive of the behaviour of one who has no steadfast principle, no honest outspokenness; the mere obsequious time server, full of smiles and gilded insincerities; who, to serve his own ends, can pat on any face that suits the occasion;
"A man
Versed in the world as pilot in his compass,
The needle pointing ever to that interest
Which is his lode star, and who spreads his sails
With vantage to the gale of others' passion."
There was nothing of this sort in Paul. Nothing could be more abhorrent to his spirit than a time serving policy or a habit of smiling, plausible deceit. These words from his lips simply indicate that his strong desire to save men and win them to Christ led him to enter as much as possible into their circumstances, to place himself on their level. Thus would he disarm their prejudices and bring his heart into sympathetic contact with theirs. Thus would he commend to them the love of him who "was made under the Law that he might redeem them that were under the Law;" "who for our sakes became poor, that we through his poverty might be made rich." (Examples: Acts 16:3; Acts 17:22-31; Acts 21:26.) The lesson for all Christian preachers and workers is this: Cultivate a broad and generous human sympathy. In dealing with men in various conditions—doubt, error, poverty, sorrow, temptation, subjection to the power of evil—put yourself as much as possible in their place, if you would hope to guide, or comfort, or save them.—W.
1 Corinthians 9:24-27
Running and fighting.
The crown of eternal life is here set forth as the issue of successful conflict with difficulties and foes. It would seem as if all Divine excellence must needs present itself to our minds as the negation of opposite forms of evil. We cannot think of God but as the "Light" that contends with our darkness, the "Fire" that consumes our corruption. God's Law is but the Divine restraint of our wayward propensities, the Divine rebuke of our trangressions. The Divine life in the soul is an energy that reveals itself in ceaseless struggle with forces that would otherwise destroy it, a perpetual battle with the powers of death. Heaven is victory, the rising up of the soul out of the region of trial and strife and suffering to its true destiny and inheritance in the glorious presence of God. Look at this passage as suggesting certain conditions of success in this spiritual conflict.
I. CONCENTRATION OF THOUGHT ON THE PRIZE AS A MATTER OF INTENSE PERSONAL INTEREST. "All run, but one receiveth," etc. The analogy here instituted is not complete, inasmuch as in the Christian race all who "run with patience" will attain. But it serves to enforce the need of great fixedness of thought and purpose, as if each runner felt that only one could win, and he would be that one. There is nothing narrow, envious, selfish, in this. A great difference ties here between the heavenly and the earthly striving. He must be a man of very elevated spirit who is able to rise entirely above the narrowing influence of secular rivalry. In urging his way to success along the crowded thoroughfares of the world, a man almost inevitably thrusts some one else aside. The gigantic system of commercial competition means this. And it is an important problem of social life to determine how one may claim as he ought that personal inheritance in the world that God has placed within his reach, and yet not fall into the sin of a selfish violation of the rights of others. There is no room, however, for anything of this kind in the spiritual race and warfare. Mutual emulation is mutual profit. The success of each one is to the advantage and the joy of all. Strive to win the heavenly crown as if you alone could wear it, and the more intensely earnest you are in your striving, the more does your example inspire your fellow combatant, the more do you become a fount of healthful influence, a source of enrichment and blessing to all around you.
II. SELF RESTRAINT AND SELF DISCIPLINE. The severe physical discipline to which the athletes subjected themselves was gladly borne for the sake of the "corruptible crown" they sought to win. Not that the perishable wreath of wild olive encircling the victor's brow was in itself the thing he cared for. It was but the symbol of something else. To be conscious of the mastery, to have his name proclaimed by the herald before the assembled multitude as one who had conferred honour and renown on his family, his tribe, his country,—that was his reward. So that the very ephemeral character of the crown made it the more striking witness to the nobility of man's nature, to the truth that he can never find his satisfactions in the region of sense; they belong, after all, to the super sensible, the ideal world. Every form of ambition greater than the apparent object will account for or warrant, is proof of this. The enthusiasm that magnifies its objects beyond their real dimensions, and invests them with a fictitious charm, is always a significant memorial of man's relation to a higher and a better world. At the same time, this striving for the corruptible crown reminds us how vain often are the rewards of earthly ambition, and how the price men pay often for their successes is a very costly one. They surrender that which is far more precious than the thing they gain. They "spend their money for that which is not bread, and their labour for that which satisfieth not." In "seeking to save their life, they lose it." The law of the heavenly race is the reverse of this. As the unsubstantial, the delusive, the perishable, is relinquished, the soul wins for itself the "inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away." You lose the lower life to gain the higher. "Temperate in all things." Let not the word "temperance" have to our minds a limited and exclusive meaning, one which, however important, does not cover the whole field of the Scripture applications. The Christian is called to be temperate alike in all his thoughts, emotions, words, and ways; in his joys and sorrows, his schemes and activities, his personal indulgences and personal mortifications; in his worldly ambitions, and even in the zeal of his religious life. But "the flesh" must needs be the chief occasion for the exercise of this self regulating grace. "I buffet my body, and bring it into bondage." Nothing could be more expressive of that subjugation of our lower nature by which we can alone win the crown of the spirit. Not that there is any essential virtue in mere physical austerities and mortifications.
"Pride may be pampered while the flesh grows lean."
Asceticism is no natural outgrowth of Christianity, but rather of its unnatural alliance with that pagan philosophy which regarded matter and spirit as essentially antagonistic principles. Christ teaches us to honour the body that God's wonder working hand has framed, and that he makes the temple of his Spirit. But then do we most honour the body when we make it most thoroughly the submissive servant of the soul's diviner purposes, confronting it, meeting it full in the face, as it were, with the swift violence of our holy purpose, when it dares to obstruct the spirit in its path to the heavenly crown.
III. THE CONFIDENCE THAT SPRINGS FROM FAITH. "Not as uncertainly, not as beating the air." Vivid realization, unwavering assurance,—this was the secret of Paul's strength. The prize of his high calling stood out clear and luminous to his view. He had no misgivings as to the reality of it. It filled the whole field of his vision with its glory, and the whole energy of his nature was consecrated to its pursuit. We must rise above the chilling, paralyzing mists of doubt, and see the heavenly crown clearly before us, if we would have there to be any real vigour in our spiritual striving. "This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith."—W.
HOMILIES BY D. FRASER
1 Corinthians 9:26, 1 Corinthians 9:27
A good servant of Jesus Christ.
It was quite in St. Paul's manner to support his exhortations to Christian service by adducing his own example and experience. Those who were not acquainted with him might misconstrue such references and set them down to a vain glorious spirit, but no one could do so who knew how fully and fervently this apostle ascribed all that he was and did as a Christian to the grace of Jesus Christ. "Not I, but the grace of God which was with me." "Not I, but Christ liveth in me."
I. ILLUSTRATIONS OF CHRISTIAN SERVICE.
1. St. Paul was as a runner in the Isthmian games, and so ran "not uncertainly." Suppose one to attempt that course without his mind made up as to the reason why or the goal to which he should run, moving without spirit or purpose, looking to this side and to that; he could take no prize. One must have a clear course and a definite aim in the race which is set before the servants of Christ.
2. St. Paul was as a boxer in the arena, and fought not as one "beating the air." The poet Virgil has the same expression in describing a boxer who missed his antagonist: "Vires in ventum effudit" ('Aeneid,' bk. 5:446). To do so is to waste force. He fights well who plants his blows skilfully and makes them tell. The apostle was a man of peace, but he needed boldness and firmness, as well as love and patience, for his hard service. He had journeys to make, trials to bear, testimonies to raise, controversies to conduct, difficulties to adjust, calumnies to refute, sorrows to assuage—a great and arduous career; and, by the grace of God, he put all his force into it, ran his race of duty with ardour, fought his fight of faith with resolution.
II. TRAINING AND DISCIPLINE FOR SUCH SERVICE. "I buffet my body, and bring it into subjection." He who would subdue evil in others must suppress it in himself. Now, the apostle found that the gospel was hindered, not so much by intellectual objection, as by moral depravity. The flesh lusted against the spirit. He had felt this in himself, and knew that the flesh prevailed by fastening on the organs of the body and inducing indulgence or excess. So he brought himself into good training for active Christian work by bruising the body and "mortifying its deeds." He would not surfeit or pamper it, lest he should stupefy the soul. This is something quite different from that "neglect of the body" which St. Paul elsewhere mentions among the superstitions of a delusive piety. To deprive the body of necessary food and sleep is to disable the powers of the mind in hope of purifying the soul. Such has been the practice of men and women in the ascetic life, and at one time it took the form of a frenzy, when the Flagellants traversed a considerable part of Europe in long processions, with covered faces, chanting penitential hymns, and continually applying the scourge to one another's naked backs. Those fanatics meant well, and, indeed, supposed that they were following the Apostle Paul. But to such foolish and cruel actions few of us are prone at the present day. Our danger lies on the opposite side. We do not hold the body sufficiently under control. We give it ease and luxury and ornament; we allow dangerous scope to those cravings and passions which have a physical basis, and so our spiritual life languishes, and we can put no glow of feeling or strength of purpose into the service of Christ. Corinth was a city notorious for profligacy. The Christians there must have known that, if a young athlete did not hold himself apart from the vices of the place, he could win no distinction in the public games. Every such competitor had to resist indulgence, and bring his frame to a firmness of muscle and a full strength of vitality which would enable it to bear the fatigue and strain of the Isthmian contests. In like manner St. Paul, for a higher purpose, restrained and governed himself, cultivated simplicity in the tastes and habits of his outward life, studied to keep himself in spiritual health and vigour, that he might run well and fight well for his heavenly Master.
III. AN EYE TO CONSEQUENCES. To sustain his purpose, St. Paul kept in view the prize of success and the disgrace of failure.
1. The prize would be an incorruptible crown. In desiring this, the good servant is not open to any charge of selfishness or vain glory. He thought of no prize, conceived of no praise or glory for himself which was not wrapped up in the praise and glory of Jesus. He had no desire to sit by himself on a high seat, with a chaplet or garland on his brow, drinking in his own praises. To see the people who had been converted to Christ through his labours safe in the kingdom would be to him a crown of rejoicing. And to see Christ praised and magnified would be to the good servant a great recompense of reward.