A Church of Saints

Life’s experiences bring us into new identities—new understandings of who we are and how we
relate to others. A simple twenty-minute ceremony changes the identity of a single man and a
single woman into a married couple. Several years of hard work, papers, caffeine-induced study
periods, and exams identifies people as graduates. Long after a president or senator or
ambassador has completed his or her terms of service that person remains forever identified by
the office he or she held. I recently saw my former high school biology teacher, and despite having
last had a class with him over forty years ago, I still called him “Coach” Ray—the identity that he
had during my school days even though he probably has not coached in thirty years. The
experiences of marriage, graduation, public office, and high school coach bring a lasting identity.
In no less experiential fashion, the Bible expresses a particular identity for those united with Jesus
Christ and one another through His death and resurrection. That identity might come through a
variety of images: body, temple, new creation, branches of the Vine, salt of the earth, people of
God, et al.[1] How the church (another identity) identifies itself and understands its identity affects
how it lives in relationship to one another and the world—sometime positively; other times
negatively through neglect.
Paul had his hands full in trying to help the Corinthian church grapple with its identity. Aside from
their historical background, the Corinthians’ behavior appears comparable to what we find in our
postmodern world. Anthony Thiselton makes that point so clearly:
With today’s “post-modern’ mood we may compare the self-sufficient, self-congratulatory culture
of Corinth coupled with an obsession about peer-group prestige, success in competition, their
devaluing of tradition and universals, and near contempt for those without standing in some
chosen value system. All this provides an embarrassingly close model of a postmodern context for
the gospel in our own times, even given the huge historical differences and distances in so many
other respects.[2]
Of course that conclusion about the postmodern tendencies of the Corinthians will need to be
borne out over the course of our study in the months ahead, but suffice it to say, even though we
may not like admitting it, they resemble the present church far too much! Yet the good news in
that regard is that the same truths that they needed our day needs.
Who were the Corinthians anyway? Their city existed as a major Greek city for many centuries
until they began weakening due to an alliance with Athens against Sparta in the Peloponnesian
War (431–404 B.C.). Philip of Macedonia then conquered them in in the latter fourth century B.C.,
with his son Alexander turning them into a commercial and tourist center. Once Rome began their
conquering of the Greek Empire, Corinth revolted against the Roman rule, and so Rome totally
destroyed Corinth in 196 B.C. The city lay dormant for a hundred years until Julius Caesar saw its
strategic location between the ancient ports of Lechaeum and Cenchrea, so he rebuilt it as a
Roman colony in 44 B.C.[3]
Although located at the peak of the Peloponnesian Peninsula in Greece, once Caesar rebuilt
Corinth it lost its Greco-styled culture. He repopulated it with former soldiers, slaves, merchants,
and tradesmen—not Greeks—from throughout the Roman Empire. They even favored speaking
and writing Latin just as in the Roman capitol. It became a Roman boomtown. As we will see along
the way, the Roman influence will help to explain some of the more perplexing texts in the epistle.
At this point we find the struggle with the Corinthian church’s identity. Paul came to Corinth after
a brief stay in Athens on his second missionary journey. He found Aquila and Priscilla, a Jewish
couple who had come to faith in Christ and sought refuge in Corinth from the city of Rome in 49
A.D. after the Emperor Claudius had expelled Jews (and Christians) from the capitol. Paul joined
with them (probably between 50–52 A.D.) in tentmaking until Silas and Timothy made it to
Corinth, giving Paul full-time focus on gospel work. He first spent time reasoning with the Jews in
the synagogue. A number of Jews came to faith in Christ, including Crispus the synagogue leader!
His replacement, Sosthenes, is probably the same one identified in 1 Corinthians 1:1, meaning that
Crispus’ replacement became a follower of Jesus too! The Jewish leaders had had enough, and so
had Paul. After listening to their blasphemies, he shook out his garment and declared, “From now
on I will go to the Gentiles” (Acts 18:6). Luke records that “many of the Corinthians when they
heard were believing and being baptized” (Acts 18:8). This cosmopolitan church would have
reflected the diverse ethnic and social make up of the city. And with each person’s background—
Jewish, Greek, Roman, barbarian—they brought their own ideas and life-influences into the circle
of believers. Once Paul left after eighteen months of teaching and training, some of the most
strong-minded began to flex their worldly muscles, influencing weaker brethren to side with them.
Disunity erupted like a volcano! Dissension among them grew to the point that some of those
associated with a leading lady, Chloe, traveled to Ephesus to report to Paul the mess in the church
(1 Cor 1:11). So around 55 A.D., Paul penned his first letter to the Corinthians, addressing their
identity as the people of God in that city.
Paul initiates his argument in the typical introductory form of an ancient letter, giving us clues on
what he will deal with throughout the letter. He wanted them to understand their identity as
God’s people and then live like it. That same truth speaks volumes to us today. The call of God in
Christ is the basis of our ongoing identity as the church. How does God’s call identify us? Let’s
consider five aspects of our identity in our text.
1. The Lord identifies us as a gathered people
“To the church of God which is at Corinth,” brings a well-worn term into new light. The word
“church,” ekklesia, was used in ancient Greek to refer to a particular people called into assembly
and a particular people called together to conduct political affairs. The emphasis appears to be on
the concept of a gathered people. That immediately addresses the rampant individualism that had
affected the Corinthian church—“‘I am of Paul,’ and ‘I of Apollos,’ and ‘I of Cephas,’ and ‘I of
Christ’” (1 Cor 1:12). Instead of seeing that in Christ they were united in an inviolable union, they
paraded their claims to believe what they wanted to believe and to behave however they wanted
to behave—much like what we see in our own day. Paul later counters their claims to
individualism by explaining the church as a temple and a body (1 Cor 3:16–17; 12:12–27).
Notice how he explains the gathered people known as the church. It is “the church of God.” That
speaks of the Lord God as the originator of the church. It did not come into existence by strong
personalities or common political alliances or an interest in social functions. The Lord birthed the
church. It has its roots in God calling Abraham out of darkness into fellowship with Him, and in the
subsequent people called by God in the Old Testament, just as Peter equated in his first epistle.
“But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God’s own possession
[citing Isaiah, Exodus, and Deuteronomy], so that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who
has called you out of darkness into His marvelous light” (1 Pet 2:9). As John Hammett rightly notes,
“There is one and only one people of God.” There are certainly distinctions between Israel and the
church—“elements of both continuity and discontinuity”—but those called out of darkness and
redeemed by the Lord, whether before or after the coming of Christ are God’s people—the
church.[4] Thus being God’s people, the church belongs to Him.
Paul added, “the church of God which is in Corinth.” The larger identity of the church, and one that
we must never lose sight of, is its divine ownership. But the local identity, “in Corinth” in this case,
must also not be forgotten. The church spans two dimensions. It is both universal as the redeemed
of the Lord and local as in a particular geographical and cultural locale. The local dimension implies
that the church must remember its distinction as the people of God living among those who are
not. As those called by the gospel, the church now exists in a local community to display the gospel
in its conversations, behavior, and relationships. Careless church members have forfeited many
gospel opportunities in their communities by bickering and complaining against one another,
behaving like they live in darkness, and engaging in the same filthy talk that goes on in the
community. Yet because the church is identified with a community it must see its mission as a holy
people starting in that community, and live like the church of God planted in that particular
community. As we will see in our ongoing study, at the heart of Paul’s concern for the Corinthian
church was its loss of testimony. God’s gathered people must reflect their Head.
2. The Lord identifies us as a people set apart unto Him
Paul further explains the church in Corinth as “those who have been sanctified in Christ Jesus.” We
typically think of sanctification as part of the great trio of our salvation: justification, sanctification,
and glorification. Paul could just as easily spoken of justification since it has the precision of
explaining the new righteousness through Christ by which God’s people are now identified.
Additionally, we tend to think of sanctification as an ongoing work—something that takes place
every day in the Christian. In one sense that is true, with sanctification serving as a synonym of our
spiritual growth.
But in a more precise sense, sanctification is something that has already happened to us. The
apostle’s verb tense choice amplifies what he means since he speaks of sanctification as having
already happened in union with Jesus Christ. So as he spoke of the church’s sanctification—
referring to being set apart as belonging to the Lord—he did not offer it as a possible condition of
the church; instead he called it done. When we enter into union with Jesus Christ in His death and
resurrection, we so identify with Him that we no longer belong to the world or even to ourselves.
Just like the mercy seat in the temple and the table for the shewbread that was sanctified or holy,
belonging only to the Lord for His purposes, so too are we sanctified as God’s people in Christ
Jesus.
Notice that Paul did not consider sanctification something that the church attains by following a
particular program or regiment of teaching or by having some unusual experience of the Holy
Spirit after becoming a new creature in Christ. Instead, he centers sanctification “in Christ Jesus.”
As David Peterson points out, it “refers primarily to God’s way of taking possession of us in Christ,
setting us apart to belong to him and to fulfill his purpose for us.”[5] The writer of Hebrews makes
it so clear how this happens. “By this will we have been sanctified [same verb tense] through the
offering of the body of Jesus Christ [that is, in His redemptive work] once for all. . . . For by one
offering He has perfected for all time those who are sanctified” (Heb 10:10, 14). In repetitive
fashion, that writer declared that the redemptive work of Jesus Christ fully sanctified all of those
that God has called to Himself in Jesus Christ.
This means that at the center of our sanctification is the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
Furthermore, because of our union with Christ in His death and resurrection, the church has a
unique corporate identity as sanctified people. In Christ, God sets you (plural) apart to belong to
Him and to live as His people. The corporate implications shout to the church that our
sanctification does not belong to a few special, elite people but it is the common reality and
experience of the gathered body of Christ. This means that a sanctified body of believers has its
worship, fellowship, service, relationships, and behavior in the world deeply transformed and
impacted. If the church does not outwardly demonstrate this inward, corporate reality of
sanctification in Christ, then like five of the Seven Churches in Revelation 2–3, it must repent or
lose its candlestick.
In this same line of thought, the church is called saints.
3. The Lord identifies the church as a unique, holy people
While we can call sanctification and saints somewhat repetitive—and they are to a degree—the
clarification offered by Paul is necessary. “Sanctified in Christ Jesus” refers to the accomplishment
of His work at the cross on our behalf applied by the Holy Spirit into the day-to-day reality of life.
“Saints by calling” or “in calling saints,” refers to the new position of the church in light of Jesus
Christ’s sanctifying work. The word “saints” likely presents us with a quandary. Due to the Roman
Catholic teaching that has dominated the use of the term, we might think that saints refers to
dead folks who were unusually spiritual before they died. And so the media makes a big deal out
of the Vatican declaring someone to be a saint. But that robs the word of its meaning! Being a
saint has nothing to do with the pope, the College of Cardinals, or the Vatican. The consistent
plural use of the term in the NT counters the Catholic use. It has everything to do, instead, with
who the Lord God declares the church to be because of the faithful, effective work of His Son. So
the call of God on your life by His gracious electing grace (1 Cor 1:29–31), secured by the
sanctifying work in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ and application by the Spirit (1 Cor
6:11), calls you to an actual practice of holiness. That’s what saints are: holy ones.
What is holiness? We’re helped to understand the term when we read about the building of the
tabernacle in the wilderness, the anointing oil that Moses poured over the priests, the incense, the
oil lamps, and even the garments that the priests wore. Each was called “holy.” That did not mean
that they were made out of stuff that dropped out of heaven. The tabernacle’s fabrics, lamp’s
metal, and the incense’s composition were from the same, normal things used by the Israelites in
everyday life. But the difference in them from what they used in their home was one thing:
everything in the tabernacle belonged to God. It had special function because of being set apart to
His service. So anything holy had been set apart to belong to the Lord and to be used for His
purposes.
In this sense, we can call holiness a living sainthood. I still remember hearing Bertha Smith, a
missionary to China in the early twentieth century, make the remark, “People don’t want to be
called saints because they don’t want to live like saints.” In other words, there is something
startling by the term “saints” because it points to a distinctively Christian character and Christ-
saturated practice in relationships. Perhaps we would agree that holiness most often shows up or
fails to show up in our relationships. An oft-repeated doggerel helps us see what that means:
To dwell with saints above, that would be glory.
But to dwell with saints below, that’s another story!
That Paul would call the Corinthian church “saints by calling,” might make us wonder what he had
in mind. They were fragmented in their relationships; they were hyper-individualistic in who they
identified with and how they treated one another, even at the Lord’s Supper; they claimed their
own rights to the point of suing each other; they ignored immoral behavior among their members
that even the sex-crazed Corinthians would not condone. Yet Paul reminds them that the “calling”
of God shown in electing grace and the effectual call in the gospel declared them to be set apart to
the Lord. They were saints whether they owned the term or not. So that brought them into
immediate accountability with one another. As saints the bar of moral behavior, relational care,
loving one another, honoring the corporate relationship over individualistic preferences had been
raised to a new level.
One read through the letter to the Corinthians that exposes the multiple issues among them
reminds us that when we ignore our calling as saints we set the stage for disastrous relationships
in the church and compromise with the world. In the end, by treating our corporate sainthood
lightly, we cripple our testimony, confuse the gospel, and wreck our witness of Christ in the
community.
4. The Lord identifies His people as a connected people
One of the major issues in Corinth was arrogance. Paul told them, “Your boasting is not good” (1
Cor 5:6). We can almost hear them saying: ‘We have the best doctrine and teaching; we have the
best ministry; we have the best covered dish meals. No one does ministry like us. We just can’t
fellowship with those who are not like us.’ And so they drew a circle around themselves,
applauded, and sat back with pride-filled smugness toward others.
But Paul makes the strong point that no church must see itself as the only circle in which the
church dwells: “with all who in every place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, their Lord and
ours.” In other words, “the gathered,” “sanctified in Christ Jesus,” and “called saints,” does not
just belong to them. They were part of a larger body of Christ—a universal body—made up of
diverse cultures and peoples owned by the Lord Jesus. Their identity and ours is bound up with the
larger body of Christ. Despite the city of Corinth’s smugness over their position as a Roman colony
that looked down on the lowly Greek cities around them, the church must not hold that same
attitude. They must embrace as brothers and sisters churches in Judea, Samaria, Syria, Galatia, and
Phrygia. They must not look down on them or hold them at arms length because they lacked the
sophistication or wealth found in Corinth.
Paul allowed no such limitations. The Corinthian church existed “with all who in every place call on
the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, their Lord and ours.” So with the diversity of ethnicities,
cultures, languages, and social standing, the church in every setting stands upon the same
foundation of depending upon Him who died and rose from the dead, and who tells us ask to
receive, seek to find, and knock to have the door opened to us (Matt 7:7). As we learn more and
more to embrace those different from us ethnically, socially, and culturally but who hold to the
same gospel of the crucified and resurrected Lord Jesus Christ upon which our faith stands, the
richer and fuller we will display what it means to be the church sanctified in Christ Jesus.
5. The Lord identifies the church as a dependent people
Although Paul takes the common form of an ancient letter’s introduction—identity of author,
identity of recipients, and greeting—he gives it a particularly Christ-dependent focus. “Grace to
you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” Typical letters offered charein or
“greetings” as the opening greeting. But Paul took the same root term, charis, or “grace,” and
brought it to a new level. “Grace to you,” reminds the church of our standing in the grace of God
in Christ. Grace implies that we don’t have anything to offer God; we lack the power and ability to
do the will of God; we even lack what is needed to be the people of God. But God comes in grace.
He takes the initiative and action on our behalf in pursuing us and providing the means to enter
into relationship with Him through the death and resurrection of His Son Jesus Christ. That’s why
grace comes “from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” As co-equal members of the
Godhead, they are the source of saving, sustaining, and persevering grace (thus Paul declares the
deity of Christ from the start).
Through that grace from God that not only calls us out of darkness but provides the means of
deliverance through the redemptive work of Christ, He brings us to “peace,” or wholeness. Apart
from Christ we are at enmity or war with God. But by the grace of God He brings us into peace
with Him through the justifying work of Christ (Rom 5:1). We must live daily as the people of God
in dependence upon the grace and peace from God.
Conclusion
Our identity changed the moment we entered into union with Jesus Christ in His death and
resurrection, and consequently, brought into union with the body of Christ. We’re a gathered
people, set apart unto the Lord, uniquely called saints, vitally connected to the larger body of
Christ, and continue by the grace and peace of God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. The
Corinthian church demonstrates, regardless of how low we’ve sunk, the work of Christ on our
behalf is greater than our sin.
[1] See Paul S. Minear, Images of the Church in the New Testament (Philadelphia: Westminster,
1975) for his extensive list of various biblical images or metaphors for the church’s identity.
[2] Anthony Thiselton, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (NIGTC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000),
16–17 (italics original).
[3] Simon Kistemaker, I Corinthians (NTC; Grand Rapids: Baker, 1993), 4.
[4] John S. Hammett, Biblical Foundations for Baptist Churches: A Modern Ecclesiology (Grand
Rapids: Kregel, 2005), 32–33.
[5] David Peterson, Possessed by God: A New Testament Theology of Sanctification and Holiness
(NSBT; Downers Grove: IVP, 1995), 27.