1 Corinthians 15:1-10

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Sin makes everyone prideful. It’s true that some people are more prideful than others. Some wear their pride as prominently as a ten-gallon hat on top of their heads; some keep it better hidden. But pride isn’t a special weakness of only a few. Pride is the default setting of the sinful nature of every one of us.

In our Old Testament reading (Gen. 4:1-15), we saw Cain’s pride. God had established the sacrifice that covered nakedness and shame with the slaughtering of an animal (Gen. 3:21). Abel followed that pattern by offering the firstborn of his flocks. But Abel’s brother, Cain, proudly thought his offering of crops was good enough. When God didn’t accept Cain’s offering, his face fell. Rather than examining his heart and actions, Cain didn’t let go of his pride. Since Abel was offering acceptable sacrifices, Cain murdered him. Cain would rather destroy what was better than repent of his unacceptable sacrifices.

In the Gospel reading (Lk. 18:9-14), the Pharisee does same thing. Instead of comparing himself and his actions to other Pharisees, he picks the worst of the worst—extortioners, unjust, adulterers, and tax collectors. Instead of looking into the clear mirror of God’s Law, he compares himself to scoundrels and fornicators, which couldn’t give him a clear picture of himself. Even though his resume of works was extraordinary according to human standards, it doesn’t impress God. That was why the tax collector went home justified. He simply pleaded for mercy. Pride keeps score, and faith begs for mercy.

Pride always boasts. It boasts of what it has accomplished, what it has avoided, and what it is by its own strength. Some of you will remember the old cartoon Popeye the Sailor Man. Besides eating spinach and having ridiculously large forearms, Popeye is known for his quote, “I yam what I yam, and that’s all that I yam.” Sinful pride does the same. It says, “I am what I am, so look at me, my accomplishments, and my achievements.” That kind of prideful boasting exalts the self while excluding God, and it is deadly. But there is another kind of boasting.

Paul uses almost the same words as Popeye, but in a stark contrast from the spinach-eating sailor, Paul doesn’t let those words stand alone. He puts more weight on what he says before. “By the grace of God I am what I am” (1 Co. 15:10). Paul knew what he had been. Before Jesus appeared to him, he was the church’s primary and fiercest enemy.

Paul had been trained by one of the most prominent teachers and a member of the Sanhedrin (Act. 5:34-39; 22:3). He had lived a life that was blameless under the law (Php. 3:6). He consented to Stephen’s death (Act. 8:1) and was ravaging the church all over the world (Act. 9:1; 26:11). Then, Christ stopped him on the road to Damascus. “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me” (Act. 9:4). Christ brought the self-righteous Saul to the dust. The Gospel opened his eyes (Act. 9:17-19). And he became the apostle to the Gentiles (Act. 9:15; 22:21).

Paul never forgot that moment. From that day forward he refused to stand before God saying, “I thank You that I am not like other men,” and instead said, “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost” (1 Tim. 1:15). The same man who once trusted his own righteousness now trusted only in the righteousness that is given by God to those who have faith in Christ (Ro. 3:21-22). 

When Paul boasts, he doesn’t do it from a place of pride. He will not take credit. “By the grace of God I am what I am.” If God had dealt with Paul according to justice, damnation would have been his due. It was grace—and grace alone—that made Saul into a Paul.

Dear saints, you and I all stand in the same place. By nature, you are not better than Cain, the Pharisee, or Saul the persecutor. You were not less of a sinner. We are all “by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind” (Eph. 2:3). The only reason any of us became Christians is that God has done the work. His Law cast us down and humbled us. Then, the Holy Spirit enlightened us with the Gospel, brought us to faith, forgave us, and adopted us as His own. What you are today, you are by the grace of God alone.

To confess that you are a Christian is already a boast of God’s pure grace. It is to be called out of darkness into light, out of damnation into salvation—all for the sake of Christ. By the grace of God, you are what you are. As a part of the body of Christ, you have work to do.

Here, Paul says that he has worked harder than any of the other apostles, but it wasn’t to his own credit. It was the grace of God that worked through him. This is a Christian boast. The work Paul did was real, and the glory belonged to God.

That’s why Paul says, “His grace toward me was not in vain.” Grace does not leave a person unchanged or idle. It produces real labor and real results. Paul actually did work harder than the rest. He traveled farther, suffered more, planted more congregations, and endured more hardship than the others (2 Co. 6:4-10). Yet every moment it was the grace of God at work in and through him. The same is true for you.

God has called you to serve Him in His kingdom. In your family and household; in your workplace; in this congregation; with your neighbors; in your city, your state, and country—in those ordinary places God’s grace does remarkable things through you. The grace that is saving you (1 Co. 15:2) is active and powerful.

There is a ‘bad’ kind of humility that sounds pious, but it actually lessens the work of God. It says, “I’m just a nobody who isn’t significant. My vocations don’t really matter. God isn’t using me for anything special.” Hogwash. That might sound humble, but it denies the power of God’s grace that already made you who you are. It’s an anti-spinach that weakens what God is doing and will do through you. It treats the living Christ who lives in you as if He were weak or uninterested in using ordinary believers for His kingdom. That false humility minimized God’s grace and actually harms faith. Imagine if Paul had said, “What I’ve done for the kingdom doesn’t matter because I used to persecute the Church of Christ.” That would grossly dishonor the work God did through him. And it would deter him from continuing to do the work God gave him to do. Don’t let the devil lull you into that kind of complacency!

You don’t have to outwork Paul and plant churches on every corner. But you are a Christian. That is already a high enough calling. The grace that has made you God’s child is not in vain. It works through your hands, words, and presence. It moves you to be generous, forgiving, and bold in your witness. In the quiet places of your everyday life, God advances His kingdom in ways that will only be fully seen on the Last Day. God has made you to be His salt and light (Mt. 5:13-16). He has placed you on a lampstand so that you give light to those around you. And He makes your light shine.

Sure, confess that you have not done enough—no Christian ever has. Plead for the grace that makes you willing and able to walk in the good works God has already prepared for you (Eph. 2:10). Whatever is done through you—even the smallest act of faithfulness—is not of yourself. It is the grace of God that is with you.

That is the kind of boasting that belongs in a Christian’s mouth. “By the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me was not in vain.”

That grace comes to you now as Jesus comes to feed you with His Body and Blood. He still forgives yesterday’s sins and the sins of this morning. He is your righteousness. He has made you what you are, and He is the One who will keep working through you until the day He brings His work to completion. Amen.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (Php. 4:7). Amen.