Not My Job to Convince

“And so it was with me, brothers and sisters. When I came to you, I did not come with eloquence or human wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God. For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.” — 1 Corinthians 2:1–2 (NIV)

Paul was an educated man. He knew Scripture, could reason with philosophers, debate religious leaders, and communicate with people from vastly different backgrounds. So when he tells the Corinthians that he did not come to them “with eloquence or human wisdom” (1 Corinthians 2:1, NIV), he isn’t celebrating ignorance or suggesting Christians should stop thinking—He is telling us what he had decided not to trust.

Corinth existed in a culture that valued impressive speakers, persuasive arguments, and intellectual sophistication. We get a glimpse of the broader Greek culture in Acts, where Luke says that the Athenians “spent their time doing nothing but talking about and listening to the latest ideas” (Acts 17:21, NIV).

So, basically, they had their own internet. Just with fewer podcasts…

Paul could have tried to compete. He could have built his ministry around being the smartest person in the room or fashioned the gospel into something that sounded scholarly and impressive to his audience. Instead, he says,

“I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Corinthians 2:2, NIV, emphasis added).

That does not mean Paul literally discussed nothing else. Read any of his letters and that theory falls apart fairly quickly. He means that everything he taught was centered on one great reality: Jesus Christ, crucified for sinners. That was the message. And Paul was not concerned with making himself seem impressive while delivering the truth.

“I came to you in weakness with great fear and trembling” (1 Corinthians 2:3, NIV).

To me, there is something encouraging about knowing that the great Apostle Paul apparently did not walk into every room radiating effortless confidence. We sometimes imagine that being useful to God requires being completely fearless, exceptionally biblically articulate, and equipped with an immediate answer to every possible objection. Paul describes himself as weak, fearful, and trembling. God used him anyway.

Paul continues, “My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit’s power” (1 Corinthians 2:4, NIV).

Again, Paul is not saying that words do not matter. He used words constantly. He reasoned, explained, taught, and persuaded. After all, that was the way of the culture and he had to cater to that to an extent. Scripture itself tells us that he “reasoned with them from the Scriptures, explaining and proving that the Messiah had to suffer and rise from the dead” (Acts 17:2–3, NIV).

The issue was not whether Paul used his mind. The issue was what Paul trusted to accomplish what only God could do.

A perfectly constructed argument cannot resurrect a spiritually dead heart. Eloquence cannot produce repentance. Intelligence cannot manufacture faith. I can explain the gospel clearly, answer questions thoughtfully, and make every point exactly as I intended, but I cannot make another person believe—That belongs to God.

Paul tells us exactly why this mattered to him: “so that your faith might not rest on human wisdom, but on God’s power” (1 Corinthians 2:5, NIV, emphasis added).

Because whatever creates our faith will eventually become the thing upon which our faith depends. If someone’s confidence in Christ rests primarily on the brilliance of a particular teacher, what happens when that teacher disappoints them? If it rests on the latest argument, what happens when another argument sounds more convincing? Human wisdom changes constantly. Ideas rise, dominate for a while, and are eventually replaced by newer ideas that everyone assures us are definitely the final answer this time.

Jesus does not change.

“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8, NIV).

There is also a freedom in understanding this when we talk about Jesus with other people. We can become intimidated by someone who seems smarter than us, knows more than us, or has questions we do not immediately know how to answer. We can think we need a theology degree, twelve apologetics books, and the conversational reflexes of someone who has never once thought of the perfect response three hours too late.

But Paul’s confidence was never in Paul — The power was in the gospel.

Paul tells the Romans,

“I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes” (Romans 1:16, NIV, emphasis added).

Our responsibility is to faithfully proclaim Christ. We should learn. We should study Scripture. We should think carefully, answer honestly, and communicate the truth as clearly as we can. There is nothing spiritual about being unprepared.

But preparation is not power—That distinction takes some of the pressure off of us. We are called to be faithful with the opportunities God gives us, but we are not responsible for producing the result. Paul describes ministry this way: “I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow” (1 Corinthians 3:6, NIV). Paul planted. Apollos watered. Both had work to do. Neither could make anything grow.

We can forget that when we desperately want someone we love to know Jesus. We explain something one more time. We send the book. We answer the question. We go over the conversation afterward and wonder whether we should have said something differently. We worry that we did not explain the gospel well enough, defend it convincingly enough, or answer every objection thoroughly enough.

Certainly, we should care about how we represent Christ. Peter tells us to “always be prepared to give an answer” for the hope that we have, and to do so “with gentleness and respect” (1 Peter 3:15, NIV). But being prepared to give an answer is different from believing that our answer has the power to change a heart — Only God can do that.

Maybe that is part of why Paul was willing to come to Corinth “in weakness with great fear and trembling” (1 Corinthians 2:3, NIV). He did not need to disguise his weakness with an impressive performance because the success of his ministry did not ultimately depend upon his strength. He could faithfully speak about Christ and trust the Holy Spirit with what happened next.

That is still our calling. We tell the truth. We point people to Jesus. We answer the questions we can, admit when we do not know something, and keep learning. We pray for the people God has placed around us. And then we trust Him with the part we cannot do.

The goal was never for someone to walk away impressed by how well we explained Christianity. Paul wanted their faith to rest somewhere far more secure: “not on human wisdom, but on God’s power” (1 Corinthians 2:5, NIV). Our words may be part of how God plants or waters the seed — But God is the One who makes it grow.

So we can share our faith, our testimonies, and the truth of the Gospel with full confidence—not in ourselves or our ability to save, but in God’s power to save by His grace. The Holy Spirit dwells in us as believers and helps us bear witness to Jesus. Our calling is to surrender to His leading, speak faithfully, and trust God to bring the growth.

bytaylormcgee

Previous
Previous

If You Love Me

Next
Next

He Loved First