Thriving In New Corinth Companion Guide:
Download this companion guide for use Sept 1-Nov 16, 2025. This guide is designed to supplement and deepen our Sunday sermon series entitled Thriving in New Corinth. Each week, you will study one of the big topics found within the book of 1 Corinthians in preparation for the upcoming sermon on that topic.
Learning to Put Others First from 1 Corinthians 8
America is known for many things: baseball, hot dogs, apple pie, blue jeans, pickup trucks. But beyond these cultural touchstones, America has also earned a reputation for generosity and kindness. For decades, we've given billions of dollars and countless person-hours to help other nations. We've welcomed millions as naturalized citizens. We've cared for the overlooked and marginalized. We love rooting for the underdog and celebrating rags-to-riches stories.
This heart for the minority comes partly from our immigrant heritage—people fleeing persecution who understand hardship. But more significantly, it stems from Judeo-Christian values woven into our national fabric. Biblical teaching consistently calls those who know and worship God to care for orphans, widows, immigrants, and "the least of these."
This impulse is good, noble, and God-honoring. Yet something has shifted in recent decades. Our focus on caring for minorities has distilled down to something unhealthy: the ultimate minority of one—me.
We've become a nation obsessed with the minority of self. "I am the greatest minority, so you must meet my demands and cater to my needs." We're the land of the free, so I'm free to say what I want, think what I want, use my body how I want, use my possessions as I please—because it's all about me.
Social media, advertisements, movies, music—everything preaches that it's all about you. But here's the truth Paul reveals in 1 Corinthians 8: If you focus on the minority of me, it will be the fastest path to unhappiness.
The life filled with joy, meaning, and purpose isn't found through self-focus. It's discovered through sacrifice—shifting our focus from the minority of me to, for the glory of God, the minority of others.
First Corinthians 8 opens with what appears to be a straightforward question: "Now concerning food offered to idols..." (verse 1).
The Corinthian church had written Paul asking about meat sacrificed to idols in temples dedicated to Greek gods like Apollo, Aphrodite, and Poseidon. After animals were sacrificed in worship, this meat was sold at market or served at banquets. Some believers who had left idol worship to follow Christ were now troubled seeing fellow Christians eating this meat.
The elders wanted clarity: Is eating this meat sin? Are we fine doing it?
But Paul recognizes the real issue runs deeper than dietary restrictions. The problem isn't primarily about food—it's about love, sacrifice, and putting others first.
Paul begins his response: "Now concerning food offered to idols: We know that 'all of us possess knowledge.' This 'knowledge' puffs up, but love builds up" (1 Corinthians 8:1).
The Greeks highly valued knowledge. As Paul noted earlier, "Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom" (1 Corinthians 1:22). Greek mentality suggested that accumulating knowledge made you wiser and better than others—creating a sense of superiority.
Paul simultaneously compliments and rebukes the Corinthians. The compliment: "I know you possess knowledge. You understand there's only one true God, so these other gods are fake. Therefore, meat can't actually be sacrificed to nonexistent deities—the meat isn't tainted."
The rebuke: "But you're acting just like your Greek neighbors, becoming puffed up and conceited because you're focused on the minority of me. This isn't the way of Jesus."
Paul explains the deeper issue in verses 7-13:
"However, not all possess this knowledge. But some, through former association with idols, eat food as really offered to an idol, and their conscience, being weak, is defiled... Take care that this right of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak. For if anyone sees you who have knowledge eating in an idol's temple, will he not be encouraged, if his conscience is weak, to eat food offered to idols? And so by your knowledge this weak person is destroyed, the brother for whom Christ died."
Some believers struggled with eating this meat because of their past. Seeing "knowledgeable" Christians eating in idol temples encouraged them to do the same against their conscience, causing spiritual harm.
Paul's conclusion: "Therefore, if food makes my brother stumble, I will never eat meat, lest I make my brother stumble" (verse 13).
Yes, the meat is just meat. But for the sake of others—for their spiritual growth and connection with God—believers should willingly set aside their rights so others can walk freely with Christ.
A pastor at a conference shared a powerful story illustrating this principle. He used to enjoy one beer on Sunday nights after full, busy weeks. That was all he allowed himself, and he looked forward to it all week.
When a large traditional church on the East Coast called him to start their young adult ministry, there was one catch: their no-alcohol policy for staff. Within certain zip codes around the church, pastors couldn't have alcohol in their homes or enjoy it at restaurants. Outside those zip codes or out of state, they could drink.
Though difficult, he signed the policy, gave up his weekly beer, and God blessed the ministry tremendously—soon running thousands of young adults on Thursday nights.
A couple years later, he and his wife vacationed in Denver, Colorado. At a nice restaurant, remembering he was outside the restricted zip codes, he ordered a beer with his meal. As he enjoyed it, one of his key volunteers from the church—who happened to be in Denver on business—spotted him.
During their brief conversation, the volunteer's eyes kept darting to the beer on the table. He said nothing about it, but the pastor could tell it was a problem.
He decided in that moment he would never have a beer again. Though he had the right to drink, for the sake of his brother in Christ, he chose to set aside that freedom permanently.
Paul returns to a familiar refrain in 1 Corinthians 10:23: "All things are lawful, but not all things are helpful. All things are lawful, but not all things build up."
We heard this in chapter 6 regarding sexual ethics—your body isn't your own; it's owned by God through creation and redemption. Using your body however you want isn't beneficial for you.
Now Paul applies the same principle differently: it's not good for others. Knowledge puffs up self, but love builds up others. It's for their benefit.
You might have the right to enjoy certain meat, movies, or music. But if your friend, sibling, or fellow believer struggles with it, exercising that right isn't beneficial for them.
"Let no one seek his own good, but the good of his neighbor" (1 Corinthians 10:24).
This teaching was so important to Paul that he repeated it to other churches. In Philippians 2:3-4, he writes: "Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others."
This sounds like Paul wants us to be doormats, letting everyone walk over us. But it's actually a call to Christlikeness. Immediately after these verses, Paul points to Jesus as the ultimate example.
Jesus—the only human who lived without sin—didn't need to pay sin's penalty (death). Yet He died on the cross, paying not for Himself but for us. He put our needs ahead of His own.
If you're going to be a Jesus follower, you must do likewise: love like Jesus loved and live like Jesus lived, putting others' needs before your own.
Paul concludes: "So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God" (1 Corinthians 10:31).
This verse often appears in coffee shops and kitchens, applied to everyday activities: "Whatever you do—work, school, cleaning—do it for God's glory." That's certainly applicable.
But in context, Paul specifically means loving your neighbor and considering their needs before your own. When you put your neighbor's needs first, you bring glory to God. And as you glorify God, you find your greatest joy.
Complete transparency: this teaching is extremely difficult. Internal and external factors constantly preach the opposite message.
Internally: I want to keep my rights as the minority of me. I like my creature comforts. I don't want to give them up. I like you, but I like myself a little more. You should give up your preferences for my sake.
That's our natural inclination. Yet if everyone demands that others meet their needs, we destroy community. We don't like being around extremely selfish people who always demand their way. We pull away from them, leaving them isolated—unable to love like Jesus or experience the joy of sacrificial living.
Ironically, we're drawn to those who sacrifice. That's why we honor soldiers, police officers, and firefighters who rush into danger. It's why "not all heroes wear capes." It's why the most honored mothers and fathers are those who've sacrificed most for their children—not for attention, but out of love.
Externally: Culture constantly preaches self-focus through phrases like "you do you," "be true to yourself," and "take care of yourself first."
Sometimes people mean well with such advice. But followed to its logical conclusion, it guarantees unhappiness. The fastest path to misery is selfishness. The harder but greater path is sacrifice.
Some readers are going through incredibly difficult circumstances right now. When life is painful, heavy, and hard, focusing on others feels nearly impossible because your mind constantly spins around your own issues.
Yet sometimes stepping out of your struggles into someone else's life causes your problems to diminish. As you care for others, God does transformative work in your heart.
In 1 Peter 3, wives are called to live with "a gentle and quiet spirit." When premarital couples study this passage, asking them to sit silently for 30-60 seconds reveals something powerful: they hear trucks outside, annoying lights humming, people moving nearby. When you get quiet about your issues and notice what's happening around you, things start improving internally.
Husbands aren't off the hook—verse 7 begins with "Likewise." Men must get out of work problems and hobbies long enough to notice what's happening with wives, children, friends, teammates, and classmates. That's where we find greatest joy.
As God works through us, He works in us. Our problems don't magically disappear, but they begin to diminish. This is the call: trust God to deal with your issues so He can help others' issues through you.
Do you have rights to certain things? Absolutely. But do you also have the right and power to set them aside? Absolutely. And that might actually be the better choice.
Don't get wrapped up in what the world teaches—caught up in the minority of me. Instead, get caught up in Jesus and what He wants to do in you and through you for others' good.
When you focus on the minority of me, you destroy the "we." But when you follow Jesus's example of sacrificial love, you discover the joy, meaning, and purpose you've been seeking all along.
The fastest path to unhappiness is the path of selfishness. The harder but greater path—the one Jesus modeled—is sacrifice. When we shift our focus from our own rights to others' needs, we don't just build them up; we discover God's transforming work in our own hearts.
