Boasting in Jesus quiets our bluster

Foolish, weak, and lowly? I’m not sure I belong in this crowd

“Rather, God chose the foolish of the world to shame the wise, and God chose the weak of the world to shame the strong, and God chose the lowly and despised of the world, those who count for nothing, to reduce to nothing those who are something, so that no human being might boast before God.” (1 Corinthians 1:27-29)

Imagine yourself as an educated, financially hefty, and influential person. You sit in the crowd to whom Paul spoke. Someone like you, back then, must have picked up on the underlying theme of that recorded speech.

“Did he just call us a bunch of losers? We’re foolish, weak, lowly, and count for nothing? I’m not sure I belong in this crowd!”

Image by Michael Schmid

Those who follow God might measure themselves against the lowly to whom Paul preached. Many of us have been given (or eeked out) a loftier existence than those who count for nothing. Not to worry. We can rely upon the inclusive latitude in the opening framing by Paul. “Consider your own calling, brothers. Not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth.”

Not many.

So, if you object to being denigrated, or more likely, if you worry that your high society status, or your profound grasp of wisdom, and maybe even your noble heritage may exclude you from being members of Jesus’ followers, fear not. Paul knew your ilk were present among the fools, the vulnerable, and the insignificant. There were not many of you, but you were there.

Though often boastful himself, the great Paul strings along everyone, including the high falutin’, with a goal that rings true for every era of the last two millennia — “That none of us might boast before God.”

There are two kinds of boasting. To “gush” over someone with pride and joy is mostly positive. The negative boast is to “flaunt” and show off with conceit. The swaggering, blustery boaster will be diminished.

To belittle boasting bothers us modern-era folks. The self-emulating nature of today’s culture urges us to shine. Fame, fortune, and achievement drive the product engines of many industries. You could say we’re brainwashed to be competitive. When we win, we’re deserving of rewards. When we lose, we’re weak, unlucky, and failures. Two fellas, international phenoms, exemplify the effect of winning over losing. Frank Sinatra crooned late in the last century, “I did it my way.” We watched Muhammad Ali strut his stuff, shouting “I am the greatest.”

Boastful folk, and not the good kind, exist in Christian religions. Some of us operate unashamedly from the pews, altars, and the many ministries, measuring our holiness by achievement and fame. Endemic within the Church’s structure are built-in, self-driven folks. We holy ones, with our feathers aglow, are awkwardly similar to the regal celebrity types found in all media venues. We might not be on Instagram . . . uh . . . I take that back. The TV Evangelist has morphed into modern media platforms, too.

Whether perched in politics, sports, religion, or one of the many silos of celebrity life, boasting is standard fare. Even in self-deprecating mode, we mask up with boasting attire for the dopamine of attention.

The quiet, holy ones call little attention to themselves. We may not know who they are.

Gushing and puffing in every culture has sucked the oxygen that deference requires out of the room. For only short moments have the holy successfully abated the braggadocio. The increasing quantity of martyrs is evidence of the winning efforts of those who boast that they are more powerful and more important than God.

How, then, does God use us, lowly Christian citizens, to “reduce to nothing” those who are “something,” or to shame the wise and the strong? It’s not by applying the principles of winning, finances, and fame that God leads us. He tells us to act with charity and love. That’s why we rarely see the effects of God’s work in us on airwaves, video clips, or instant messaging apps.

God works in whispers, some say, behind the scenes. Clever like foxes, the holy collaborate with the Holy Spirit and receive nodding admiration from those who know God’s influence has won the day.

There is a truth in The Revolution Will Not Be Televised, a song written and made famous by Gil Scott-Heron in 1970. He exalted to the Black Power revolution of that day, which has been effective, though slow, taking small steps over 50 years. Similar slow progress exists for all revolutions. Some lead more violent lives, evil in intent, and take a century — like communism. Others, like movements to end child labor and the abuse of women, take place in pockets of nations and often are only temporary.

Revolutions in which the innocent die shock the world. Awakening by horror marks the path of martyrdom, precisely what Jesus identified for his faithful followers. At the moment, we don’t immediately recognize the martyr’s witness as a testimony. While courageous, partnering with such a fatal plan strikes fear in the show-offs and peacocks. They watch the martyrs with pity but can’t imagine joining them.

“If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you.” (John 15:18)

The Jesus Christ revolution (a redemptive, restorative return of God the Father, Son, and Spirit taking back creation) has a much longer trajectory—the entire length of human history. Each of our deaths is supposed to be an opportunity for God, a witness to the world. Bravery and self-sacrifice, though, require a gift of faith. A faith we then act upon in the alleyways and beneath the noise.

If Christian history is our evidence, Paul’s refrain about overcoming the boastful may refer to the next age—an immortal one. We’ll probably never see the demise of evil in this age. Jesus’ return may be the only time when true righteousness will prevail and snuff out self-aggrandizement.

Paul’s closing sentence in this first chapter of his letter to the Corinthians outlines our life in this age. It is due to him that you are in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God, as well as righteousness, sanctification, and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Whoever boasts, should boast in the Lord.” (1 Corinthians 1:31)

To “gush” over someone (other than ourselves) with pride and joy is lovely, proper boasting. Parents know this when they sacrifice their desires to instill values in their children. Coaches, too, though crushing an opponent in sports isn’t close to the joy we’re discussing. Surrendering to God engenders an entirely different way to live.

Boasting in the Lord won’t earn us any points in current cultures and may just get us killed. Yet, that’s what we might be asked to do if we model ourselves after Jesus Christ. He became for us Wisdom from God, as well as righteousness, sanctification, and redemption. If we follow him to the cross, we can indeed boast of that.

By the way, today’s memorial saints, Nicodemus and Joseph of Aramethia were among the noble, wise, and learned. They likely suffered “cancellation” following their generous care of Jesus’s burial, yet nothing in historical records hints at their martyrdom by death. So, if you’re a wealthy, worldly, esteemed follower of Christ, God can likely use you. Of course, that probably still means you’ll look foolish, lose your status, and maybe end up with nothing in the end but the promises of Heaven.

The weak, foolish, lowly, and owners of nothing aren’t better off in their relationship with God. The poor don’t easily surrender all to Jesus when they’re encouraged to be esteemed by the world for some feat they should accomplish. The poor can hope for wealth like the “winners” and get there by marriage or lottery. Becoming strong and powerful is an addictive expectation. Rather than surrender, the lowly often despair.

Everyone is pulled by the world's desires and blinded to God’s message.

At some point we need to heed Paul’s message that we do not belong to this world. “God is faithful, and by him you were called to fellowship with his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.”