Jesus Christ, and Him Crucified
1 Corinthians 2:1-2 - "And I, when I came to you, brothers, did not come proclaiming to you the testimony of God with lofty speech or wisdom. For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified."
In January of 1850, the town of Colchester, England, was almost shut down by a snowstorm. A fifteen-year-old boy named Charles Spurgeon had set out for a place of worship, but he could not make it. As the snow drove harder, he turned down a side street and found refuge in a little Primitive Methodist Chapel, now remembered as the chapel on Artillery Street. There were maybe fifteen people scattered through the pews. The regular minister hadn’t made it either.
Eventually an obscure substitute preacher climbed into the pulpit. Spurgeon would later describe him as “a poor man, a shoemaker, a tailor, or something of that sort.” He read the morning’s text, Isaiah 45:22: “Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth, for I am God, and there is none else.” He didn’t have much else to say, so he stayed with the text and pressed it home. “A man need not go to college to learn to look,” he told them. A child could look. Anyone could look.
After about ten minutes, the preacher noticed the young Spurgeon sitting under the gallery, looking miserable. He pointed at him and said, in a broad Essex accent, “Young man, look to Jesus Christ.
Spurgeon was converted on the spot.
He would later become one of the most prolific English-speaking preachers of the nineteenth century. Thousands would come to hear him. His published sermons would fill sixty-three volumes. And according to Christian History, he would tell the story of that snowy morning more than 280 times in his sermons, because he never got over it. He never recovered from the grace of God coming to him through a man who, as Spurgeon remembered, couldn’t even pronounce his text correctly.
Now read again 1 Corinthians 2:1-2: "And I, when I came to you, brothers, did not come proclaiming to you the testimony of God with lofty speech or wisdom. For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified."
The Corinthians had probably hoped for something more. Corinth was a sophisticated Roman colony. Its citizens were used to skilled rhetoricians, polished philosophers, men whose oratory could fill an amphitheater. Paul refused to give them the show.
See, Paul's simplicity was a deliberate decision, not a personality limitation. He’d spoken to Greek philosophers at the Areopagus in Athens (Acts 17). He’d been educated by Gamaliel, one of the greatest rabbinic minds of his generation. He had every gift necessary to give the Corinthians the polished sophisticated message they would’ve respected. The Greek word he uses, ekrina, is the verb behind "I decided." It carries the force of a deliberate, considered, weighed choice. Paul did the calculus. He looked at the church he was planting and the gospel he was preaching, and he said, simply: I am keeping this about the cross.
Most of our complications in the spiritual life are decisions we have made, often unaware. The complicated devotional system we’ve layered on top of simple obedience. The reading list we’ve built to substitute for actually reading the Bible. The podcast diet we’ve used to crowd out time with God. The theological distinctives we’ve welded to our discipleship. None of these things is inherently bad. None of them is the cross of Christ either. And Paul, who could have built any of them, refused to.
The Primitive Methodist in Colchester couldn’t pronounce his text. He had no education. He had nothing but a verse and an instruction: look. And the Holy Spirit took his simple stammering and converted one of the greatest preachers in modern history. The thing that made the morning powerful was the thing left in, not the thing added.
This is the Surrendered Servant. The Surrendered Servant has laid down eloquence, position, reputation, and every dressed-up thing in order to be plainly useful to God. The Surrendered Servant has stopped needing to be impressive by the world's measures. The simplest message handled by the Spirit goes further than the most sophisticated message handled by the flesh, every time. The Surrendered Servant has stopped trying to be remarkable, and has started trying to be available.
Today: Pick one layer of religious complexity you’ve been carrying. The five-podcast rotation that has been replacing prayer. The five-hundred-page theology book that has been crowding out your Bible. The system you’ve built around your devotional life that has gradually become its own project. Set it aside for 48 hours.
In the space that opens, do one simple thing instead. Sit with one verse for 10 minutes. Take a slow walk and talk to God without filling the silence. Read the Bible without a study tool in hand. Let the Christ who is enough actually be enough.
Prayer: "Father, forgive me for the complications I tend to build around what You designed to be plain. Make me, this weekend, a surrendered servant who has laid down the impressive things in order to handle the simple, true thing You’ve entrusted to me. In Jesus' name, Amen."
-PK