1 Corinthians 7:36–38 is translated in two quite different ways. The NASB reads it as instruction to a father about his virgin daughter: if a man thinks he is acting improperly toward his virgin daughter, and she is past her youth, he may let her marry and does not sin; but he who stands firm, under no constraint, and decides to keep his daughter unmarried does well; so he who gives her in marriage does well, and he who does not does better (a paraphrase of 1 Corinthians 7:36–38, NASB).

The alternative is given in the NIV, which reads it as instruction to an engaged man: if anyone thinks he is not acting honorably toward the virgin he is engaged to, and his passions are strong and he feels he ought to marry, they should marry; but the man who has settled the matter, under no compulsion, and decided not to marry her also does right; so he who marries the virgin does right, but he who does not does better (a paraphrase of 1 Corinthians 7:36–38, NIV).

The strongest argument for the first translation is the use in verse 38 of a verb more typically translated "to give in marriage" than "to marry." However, both the context and everything else about the passage suggest that a man and his fiancée, not a father and his daughter, are in view. I believe the argument from context is more persuasive. A technical article by Bruce Winter in the Tyndale Bulletin (1998) makes a case for a wider meaning of the verb usually translated "to give in marriage."

Friends, from time to time I mention technical articles like this to pique your interest in studying the original languages. Not everyone is called to be a Greek or Hebrew scholar, and even though I took every course offered in these languages in college and seminary, I do not consider myself one. However, I believe it is helpful to have some knowledge of these languages, so that you can at least appreciate and understand the literature that seeks to shed light on obscure passages of Scripture.

As I have mentioned before, while believers are not called to be experts in everything, we must all, as much as possible, become experts in God's Word. For we are each judged individually by our own knowledge and application of His Word. It does not matter what we were taught, even if it was a lie. When we stand before the Judge, we cannot use the excuse that our preacher taught us wrong. Everyone will be accountable for themselves.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The comment is right that this passage is one of the most difficult to translate in Paul's letters, and it is a helpful example of how translations can differ in good faith. The key Greek terms are ambiguous: "his virgin" (tēn parthenon autou) could refer to a daughter or a betrothed woman; the word often translated "past her youth" (hyperakmos) could describe the woman's age or, as some argue, the man's strong passions; and the verb in verse 38 (gamizō) normally means "give in marriage" but may have been used more loosely by Paul's time. The ESV and most recent translations follow the engaged-couple reading, as the comment does, while noting the alternative in footnotes. A third view, now less common, sees a "spiritual marriage" in which a couple lived together celibately.

The larger context helps. Paul says he is writing "in view of the present distress" (7:26) — likely a famine or time of hardship in Corinth — and wants believers to be "free from anxieties" and devoted to the Lord (7:32–35). He is careful to say that marrying is "no sin" (7:28, 36) and that his advice is not meant "to lay any restraint upon you" (7:35). Whatever the precise situation, Paul's concern is freedom for undivided devotion, not a ranking of spiritual worth between the married and the single.

The comment's closing emphasis on personal responsibility for knowing God's Word echoes the Bereans (Acts 17:11) and Paul's charge to Timothy to "rightly handle the word of truth" (2 Timothy 2:15).

Now about food sacrificed to idols: we know that we all possess knowledge, but knowledge puffs up while love builds up (a reference to 1 Corinthians 8:1).

For the longest time I heard this verse quoted simply as "knowledge puffs up while love builds up," applied as an admonition not to spend too much time reading and meditating on the Bible. But is that what the verse teaches? Once again, when the context is considered, the meaning is quite different from what is often preached.

This is not a knock on studying Scripture but a call to patient and sacrificial love toward believers who are still unaware of their freedom in Christ. It comes in a discussion of food sacrificed to idols, so there is a particular situation prompting Paul's exhortation. And the exhortation is not to stop knowing but to suspend one's freedom out of concern for a fellow believer.

Paul writes that some new believers coming out of idolatry still think idols are real gods, so that when they eat such food they think of it as sacrificed to a god, and their conscience, being weak, is defiled (a reference to 1 Corinthians 8:7). Not everyone possesses this knowledge — the knowledge in view being that an idol is nothing at all in the world.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The correction is well made and the misuse it identifies is common. Read as a standalone maxim, the verse becomes an argument against study; read in place, it is Paul's opening move in an argument where he himself asserts the knowledge in question and then constrains its use.

Worth noting how the chapter ends, because it shows how far Paul is willing to take the constraint: if what he eats causes a brother to stumble, he will never eat meat again. That is not a call to abandon the knowledge — he restates it plainly in chapter 10 — but to hold it in a way that does not cost someone else.

The distinction between puffing up and building up is also architectural language, and Paul uses it throughout this letter: the church is God's building, and he lays a foundation on which others build. Knowledge that inflates the individual and knowledge that constructs the community are not different knowledge. They are the same knowledge put to different uses.

Friends, in a past posting I wrote regarding the important distinction between "judging" and "condemning." Many people believe that Christians should not judge at all. If that were true, then Paul would be violating that command here in 1 Corinthians 5:3, where he writes, "For I indeed...have already judged (as though I were present) him who has so done this deed." Then he commands the church in Corinth to follow his lead and do the same (1 Corinthians 5:4–5). Therefore, Christians should judge one another, even so that they might not be judged, that is, condemned by God (1 Corinthians 5:5).

But another distinction that Paul makes is between believers and unbelievers. He writes in 1 Corinthians 5:12–13, "For what have I to do with judging those also who are outside? Do you not judge those who are inside? But those who are outside God judges." Judgment of unbelievers ("those on the outside") is completely God's prerogative. Christians have no basis for judging the deeds of unbelievers, because unbelievers do not share the same covenant of grace, nor have the Spirit to effectively embrace biblical teachings and commands. They are on the "outside." But Christians are on the "inside," and we have the Word of God as the standard for which we must judge each other and by which we will also be judged by God (Hebrews 4:12–13).

But, as I have mentioned before, we should always judge one another with a view to healing and restoration (Matthew 18:15–20; James 5:19–20; Galatians 6:1–2).

AI-Expanded Reflection

First Corinthians 5 makes it impossible to treat “do not judge” as a prohibition on every moral assessment. Paul expects the congregation to recognize serious wrongdoing among those professing Christ and to respond. The scandal is aggravated by the community’s attitude: it has failed to grieve and act. Christian fellowship therefore involves responsibilities that would be absent from a purely voluntary association built around shared interests.

The distinction between insiders and outsiders concerns the church’s sphere of disciplinary responsibility. It does not mean that Christians cannot identify exploitation, violence, or injustice when committed by an unbeliever. Paul himself describes the conduct in Corinth as unacceptable even among the Gentiles. Rather, the congregation is not commissioned to impose its membership discipline on the world at large. It must address its own profession of holiness while continuing ordinary contact with people outside, as verses 9–10 explicitly explain.

The purpose of discipline is clarified by the hope for the offender’s final salvation in verse 5. The difficult expression about handing someone over to Satan has been understood in different ways, but it cannot responsibly become permission for personal cruelty. Removal from fellowship exposes the seriousness of the contradiction between profession and conduct. It is not a license for humiliation as entertainment, gossip, or the unchecked authority of a leader. The restorative passages cited in the original add appropriate constraints: gentleness, self-examination, and a desire to recover the person who has gone astray.

A church applying this text should therefore be both morally serious and procedurally careful. Establish what has happened, protect those harmed, avoid favoritism, and distinguish repentance from the mere desire to avoid consequences. Restoration may require changed behavior, restitution, and time; it does not automatically mean returning someone to a position of trust. These distinctions prevent the word “grace” from being used to silence injured people. Paul’s concern is that the community live truthfully before God, neither congratulating itself while tolerating harm nor treating a fallen member as beyond the reach of mercy.

1 Corinthians 8:1 — I listen to the Ravi Zacharias Ministry team regularly, and really appreciate their apologetic approach. It's fantastic to hear a soundly reasoned argument for the faith. What I especially respect about them is their frequent reminder, similar to something like this: a good argument doesn't save — the gospel does. Defeating an argument doesn't change hearts — love does. The greatest knowledge available to us is knowing God and His love for us. I have a natural itch to get answers to my "why" questions, but there's a greater thrill in simply knowing the "what" — what to do — and doing it, fueled by faith.

AI-Expanded Reflection

This is exactly the tension 1 Corinthians 8 itself is built around — Paul opens by warning that knowledge alone "puffs up," while love actually builds people up (a paraphrase of 1 Corinthians 8:1). He isn't dismissing knowledge; he's ranking it below love as the thing that actually accomplishes something in another person's life. The apologetics instinct this comment describes — winning the argument isn't the same as winning the person — is really just this same New Testament principle applied to modern debate culture: sound reasoning can clear obstacles to belief, but only love actually draws someone toward the God being argued for.

Friends, I'm grateful for the insightful perspectives from my brothers Fernando and Matt. I agree that when it comes to judging, we need to distinguish discernment from condemnation, since both meanings can hide inside the single word "judge." We're commanded everywhere to discern right from wrong, based on God's commands in Scripture — but we're also commanded never to finally condemn anyone, since that's God's prerogative alone. Many people who say "don't judge me" often really mean "don't tell me I'm doing wrong, since you do bad things too." That's a mistaken response — how would we ever help each other improve, given that we've all sinned and continue to sin? How could we ever sharpen one another, as Scripture commands, under that logic?

Some think this kind of judging is itself hypocritical, but that misunderstands what "hypocrisy" actually means biblically. A word study on hypocrisy in the New Testament shows it applies to people who hold others to a standard they don't hold themselves to. Avoiding hypocrisy doesn't mean never pointing out sin in someone else because you share the same struggle — it means recognizing you're in the same boat together, bearing each other's burdens by holding one another accountable, and being equally willing to receive the same scrutiny yourself.

So let's admit our own shortcomings and point out each other's too. Why? So that neither we nor they end up judged by God instead. Why does Paul command the Corinthian church to expel the unrepentant, immoral believer in 1 Corinthians 5? To condemn him? No — to save him (cf. 1 Corinthians 5:5). By 2 Corinthians, that same believer has repented, and Paul urges the church to welcome him back into fellowship (cf. 2 Corinthians 2:6–8). Proper "judging" always aims at healing and restoration (cf. Matthew 18:15–19).

Looking at the church today, we err in both directions — we rarely do what we should, and often do what we shouldn't. We rarely discern and name each other's faults in order to bring about repentance and restoration. But we're often quick to spread rumors, or even take each other to court, harming one another and Christ's name in the process — which is exactly why Paul commands believers in 1 Corinthians 6 not to sue fellow believers, saying it's better to suffer loss than to do this.

Within the church, we're often good at tiptoeing around each other, complaining to third parties, but unwilling to confront each other directly in love — and the few who do often get poorly received, even labeled "enemies." No wonder we fail to rebuke and correct one another, opting instead to vent to sympathetic ears. It doesn't help that we're often simply told not to "criticize," only to encourage. Paul teaches we're meant to both encourage and admonish one another (cf. Colossians 3:16; Hebrews 10:24–25) — Scripture is meant for teaching, rebuking, correcting, and training, not just encouragement. Why do real problems go unaddressed? Why do sermons so often sound like platitudes we accept or reject based on mood? Because real accountability is absent. As a result, our saltiness fades more and more (cf. Matthew 5:13). So, friends, let's condemn no one, but judge — examine, discern — everyone, especially ourselves.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The tiptoeing-versus-confrontation pattern this comment describes has a specific name in conflict literature — "triangulation," discussing a grievance with everyone except the person actually involved. Jesus's own instruction in Matthew 18:15 addresses this exact temptation directly, specifying that the first step is to go to the person alone, privately, rather than involving others first. That single procedural detail — talk to them, not about them — may be the most practically actionable piece of this whole reflection on judgment: much of the "tiptoeing" this comment laments could be resolved simply by following that one specific, concrete instruction before anything else.

1 Corinthians 3–4: I just commented that we're not supposed to judge, since that's God's role — so when I read in 5:3 that Paul has "already pronounced judgment" on the person involved in this immoral situation, I paused. I used to think Paul came across as arrogant, but reading him now, I don't think that's really the case. I was curious how he'd come across this time around.

Instead, he's simply bold — doing exactly what Jesus said to do. This immoral act should cause the church real grief (a paraphrase of v. 2).

When we "judge" in the sense Paul means here, we're not pronouncing something evil that wasn't already evil — that verdict already exists. We're identifying a deed under a standard already established. We're not the ones executing punishment either — it's not our place or power to "destroy the flesh, so the spirit may be saved" (a paraphrase of v. 5) — we're simply facilitating a sentence that's already been passed.

We facilitate God's own pronouncements — His justice, His jealous holiness, His wrath. But we also facilitate His mercy, His grace, His love. Be His reflection!

AI-Expanded Reflection

The outcome of this exact situation is worth adding, since Paul's later letter to the same church shows the discipline actually worked as intended — by 2 Corinthians, this same individual has repented, and Paul now urges the church to forgive and comfort him, warning that excessive continued sorrow could actually overwhelm him (a paraphrase of 2 Corinthians 2:6–8). That follow-up matters for understanding what "facilitating God's sentence" is ultimately for — the goal was never punishment as an end in itself, but restoration, which this particular case actually achieved.