Scripture Daily

Context No. 239 of 4322 · 1 Corinthians

Context · Reflection

1 Corinthians 7:25-31: in context

25Now concerning virgins, I have no commandment from the Lord, but I give my judgment as one who has obtained mercy from the Lord to be trustworthy. 26Therefore I think that because of the distress that is on us, it’s good for a man to remain as he is. 27Are you bound to a wife? Don’t seek to be freed. Are you free from a wife? Don’t seek a wife. 28But if you marry, you have not sinned. If a virgin marries, she has not sinned. Yet such will have oppression in the flesh, and I want to spare you. 29But I say this, brothers: the time is short. From now on, both those who have wives may be as though they had none; 30and those who weep, as though they didn’t weep; and those who rejoice, as though they didn’t rejoice; and those who buy, as though they didn’t possess; 31and those who use the world, as not using it to the fullest. For the mode of this world passes away.

Paul is answering the Corinthians' practical questions about marriage and staying single, and he is unusually careful to label his answer. On this, he says, he has no command from the Lord, only his own judgment as someone the Lord has made trustworthy. Everything that follows is shaped by a single conviction running under the whole chapter: the time is short.

Paul expected the return of Christ soon, and it is honest to say his advice is compressed by that expectation. Given how little time he thinks is left, he tells them to stay roughly as they are. If you are married, do not seek release; if you are free, do not go looking. Marrying is not a sin, and neither is remaining single, but he wants to spare people the added weight of worldly trouble in a short season. Then he says the line that reaches past his own timeline. From now on, let those who have wives live as though they had none, those who mourn as though not mourning, those who rejoice as though not rejoicing, those who buy as though they owned nothing, because the form of this world is passing away.

He is not asking for coldness toward a spouse or numbness toward joy. He is asking for a loosened grip, a way of holding even good and real things lightly because their shape is temporary. His sense of the clock was tighter than history turned out to be, and the posture still stands. What am I holding with a clenched hand, as though its shape were permanent, when it is already passing?

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