To Be Right or To Be Good

Text: 1 Corinthians 8:1-13

Is it better to be right or to be good?

It is the question that Paul asks, in a round-about way, of the people of Corinth. And therefore asks us.

Perhaps you will say that to be right is to be good. When we act, we should act on what we know. (The Corinthians would agree). When we do, you might say, then it is likely that the outcome is best. To act in ignorance and to act against reasoned thinking is risky and foolish. Like the people of Corinth, we value knowledge. We as a culture spend a lot of energy getting, organizing, and preserving knowledge. We have knowledge workers. We weigh things one against the other and pick the best outcome, we hope, limited only by our knowledge. Practicality, expediency, and effectiveness are the children of knowledge. We judge behaviors and outcomes by them.

By this reasoning, it is OK to be good, but that is not the main point. Or to be more kind, goodness is a desirable outcome, but not always relevant. Goodness is a consideration. The CEO is a practical manager. The chief ethics officer is an annoyance.

What makes the words of Jesus, who was a visionary, and Paul, who was a lawyer, so amazing is that for both of them goodness is exactly the main point. Jesus is always getting into trouble because he breaks the law in favor of the immediate needs of people. The right thing to do is to obey the law. But when Jesus sees someone in trouble, he does the good thing whether or not it is the right thing. The sabbath is for people, not people for sabbath, he said, which pretty much sums it up. He heals people at the wrong time. He hangs around with the wrong people. He touches the wrong people. We do things, he seems to say, because they are good for people. Knowledge and all its children are a consideration. But they serve goodness. Even if when it is risky and foolish, it is better to be good than right.

Paul is unhappy with the Corinthians. He starts by telling them that they are in the right. You have knowledge, he admits. You have knowledge of Jesus and his teachings. You know what is right, what are the true facts about God and the world. But that knowledge is not causing you to do good.

When Paul speaks in this passage about what I’m calling goodness, he uses the word that is translated love. But for Paul and his listeners, that word does not describe a feeling, a sentiment. Love is not about feeling either romantically or affectionately drawn to another person. It means to act. Love works, love does things. Love works to serve others. That is what love does. It is a consequence of love and a definition of love.

But that is not what the folks at Corinth are doing. They are not acting in love. They are not making things easier or better for other people. They are making things harder. Not because that’s a good thing to do, but simply because they can. They are right, and they act as if that gives them special powers.

In fact, Paul agrees they have special powers. Our Bible calls this power liberty, or you could call it freedom, but it is translated elsewhere as authority or power. They have the freedom, or liberty, or permission, that comes with knowing that God favors them because of what Jesus did. This knowledge has puffed them up, Paul says. They have inflated egos. They are thinking a lot about themselves and not much about others.

Paul’s argument, which probably seems a little weird at first, goes like this: You and I know, says Paul to his readers, that there are no such things as idols. Idols have no power. They aren’t real. They are just made up things. There is no reason to revere them. You could spit on an idol (Paul doesn’t say that) and it wouldn’t matter, because an idol is just a manufactured item, like a shovel or a trash barrel. Paul and Paul’s compatriots know this. So if someone makes a sacrament of meat to an idol, it means nothing. It is not holy or special. It is just plain old meat. A lamb chop. Sirloin steak. So there is no reason not to eat it. Anyone with knowledge of Jesus knows this. Or should.

But let’s say that someone has a little left-over worry that maybe idols have a little divinity in them. That they are kind of holy. “Not really, you know, but, well, maybe a little. I mean, maybe.” So they think, I cannot eat this meat because it has been part of a sacrifice to a pagan god. And if they do, they feel bad—Paul says they feel defiled.

Evidently the folks to whom Paul writes have been eating this meat. Sort of flaunting it in front of others. Like when someone does something taboo because he or she doesn’t believe in the taboo, and therefore it has no power for them. You can just see them approaching the others, teasing them: Go ahead, have some of this great meat. Yum! This sure is good.

When you do this, Paul says to the Corinthians, it shows that you do not understand what Jesus was all about. You are hurting these people, making them seem foolish or sinful. And making you superior, just because you are right. It is right, but it is not good. Through your knowledge, Paul says, you are destroying your brothers and sisters. You are sinning against them, and, he says, sinning against Christ.

When we sit upon a platform of what is right and do things that harm others, we sit with the Corinthians. When we begin our discussions with words like “I know” or “it says” or “Luther said,” we are enlisting the force of knowledge. And when through that we hurt others, we are not loving them.

What Paul asks for in his letter is not a kind of sentimental fluffy embrace of all things, people, or behaviors. And he does not dismiss the power of knowledge. He agrees that knowledge of Jesus Christ is liberating and powerful. Nor does he dismiss the need to exhort people to think clearly and humbly. Paul is always doing that. He was stubborn and vocal about it. (Martin Luther was the same way; no wonder he liked Paul.) Paul’s letters, like this one, are often lists of correctives and criticisms of people doing things the wrong way.

But Paul does not lean on doctrine. Or maybe better to say that Paul finds doctrine to have a tough flexibility to conform to things new and unforeseen. And that doctrine must be based on love, the kind of love we are talking about. It must be able to accommodate real people and their real situations. And because Christian doctrine is based on Jesus, it is able to.

Right and good are not inevitably opposed. They are not the opposite end of some scale. Often they are coincident. But when there is a conflict between structure, doctrine, law, or process and love, what do we do? How do we decide? Which pulls us most strongly? Which do we trust the most?

It looks like it will continue to be stressful times for the world, the nation, the church, and individuals. In these days especially, fear tempts us to trust knowledge as our guide and not trust love.

In these days, it is helpful to remind ourselves of Paul’s answer to the people of Corinth. Knowledge puffs up, love builds up, says Paul. Love is better than knowledge; good is better than right.