1 Corinthians 4:16Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

O what boldness in a teacher! How faithful an image of Christ he was, if he points others also to this. Yet here he does not exalt himself, but shows the ease of virtue.

Do not say, "I cannot imitate you. You are a teacher, and a great teacher." The distance between me and you is not what it is between me and Christ, and yet I imitated Him.

When he writes to the Ephesians, he does not set himself as mediator. He leads them all straight to Him, saying, "Be imitators of God" (Eph 5:1). But here, since he was addressing the weak, he presents himself as an intermediary.

At the same time he shows that in this way too one may imitate Christ. Whoever imitates a faithful image imitates the archetype.

Let us see, then, how he imitated Christ. This imitation requires neither time nor art, but only desire. When we enter a painter's workshop, we cannot imitate his painting, even if we look at it a thousand times. But Christ can be imitated even by hearing alone.

Would you like me, then, to show you a painting, setting before you the life of Paul? Imagine a painting far better than royal portraits. Its foundation is not joined boards or stretched canvas, but the work of God. It is soul and body.

The soul is the creation of God, not of men, and so also is the body. Are you applauding? This is not the time for applause. Later you may both applaud and imitate.

Thus the foundation of this painting is material common to all. Soul, as soul, differs in no way from soul. The difference depends on the will.

Just as body, as body, differs in no way from body, but is the same in Paul and in all others, and only labors make one purer than another, so we must think also about the soul.

Let us imagine the painting, the soul of Paul. At first this painting was smoke-stained and covered with cobwebs. There is nothing worse than enmity against God.

But when the One who transforms all things came, He saw that it had this appearance not from sloth or negligence, but from ignorance. It lacked the colors of piety.

Paul had zeal, but he lacked the colors, because he had zeal not according to knowledge. Then the Transformer gave it the color of truth, that is, grace, and at once made it a royal image.

Paul received the colors, learned what he had not known, and did not waste time. He immediately became an excellent painter.

First his head appeared royal, when he preached Christ. Then the whole body became the same, through the strictness of his life.

Painters shut themselves up at home and do their work with great care and silence, opening the door to no one. But Paul set his painting in the midst of the whole world.

There all opposed him, rose against him, and disturbed him. Yet there he completed this royal image, and he paid no heed to the obstacles.

Therefore he said, "We have become a spectacle to the world" (1 Cor 4:9), on land and sea, to heaven and the whole universe, to the visible and spiritual world. Meanwhile he painted his picture.

Would you like to see its other parts, beginning with the head? Or would you like us to begin the reckoning from below?

Look, then, at this statue of gold, or rather one more precious than gold and worthy to stand in heaven. It was not soldered with tin or fixed to one place.

It ran from Jerusalem to Illyricum, reached Spain, and as if borne on wings passed through the whole world.

What could be more beautiful than those feet which traversed all the earth beneath the sun? The prophet foretold their beauty when he said, "How beautiful are the feet of him who brings good tidings, who proclaims peace!" (Isa 52:7).

Do you see how beautiful his feet are? Do you want to see his breast? Come, I will show it to you also.

You will see that it is brighter than his beautiful feet, and even than the breast of the ancient lawgiver. Moses held tablets of stone, but Paul had Christ Himself within.

He bore in himself the image of the King Himself and the mercy seat. Therefore he was more honorable than the cherubim.

The voice that came from there was not like the voice that came from here. There the discourse concerned mostly visible things, but Paul's tongue proclaimed things higher than the heavens.

From the mercy seat oracles were spoken only to the Jews. From Paul they went out to the whole world.

There they came through lifeless things. Here they came through a virtuous soul.

He was a mercy seat brighter than heaven. He shone not with many stars or solar rays, but because he had within himself the Sun of righteousness, who poured His rays from there.

A cloud sometimes comes upon the visible heaven and darkens it. But no such storm ever came upon the breast of Paul.

Or rather, many storms often came upon him, but they did not darken his light. On the contrary, this light shone amid temptations and dangers.

Therefore, while he himself was in chains, he cried out, "The word of God is not chained" (2 Tim 2:9). Thus his tongue always poured forth rays, and neither fear nor danger darkened his breast.

This breast seemed more excellent than his feet. Yet they too are excellent as feet, and it as a breast.

Do you want to see how beautiful his stomach was? Listen to what he himself says of it: "If food causes my brother to stumble, I will never eat meat, lest I cause my brother to stumble" (1 Cor 8:13).

It is a good thing not to eat meat, not to drink wine, and not to use anything by which your brother is offended, scandalized, or troubled. "Food is for the stomach, and the stomach for food" (1 Cor 6:13).

What could be more beautiful than this stomach, trained to such restraint, preserving all chastity, able to fast, to hunger, and to thirst?

Like a well-trained horse governed by a golden bridle, it moved in good order, conquering the demands of nature, because Christ moved within it.

With such chastity, every other evil plainly disappeared. Do you want to see his hands, what they are now? Or do you want to see how cruel they were before?

Before, he entered houses and dragged men and women to prison, as if he had not human hands, but those of some wild beast (Acts 8:3).

But when he received the colors of truth and attained spiritual experience, those hands were no longer human but spiritual. They bore chains every day.

They no longer struck anyone, ever, but were themselves struck a thousand times. Even a viper once stood in awe of those hands. They were no longer human hands, and therefore it did them no harm (Acts 28:3-6).

Do you want to see his shoulders, as beautiful as the other members? Listen to what he himself says of them: "Five times I received from the Jews forty lashes less one. Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked. A night and a day I was in the deep" (2 Cor 11:24-25).

But lest we also be plunged into an unfathomable depth and extend our discourse too far by numbering all his members one by one, let us leave his body and turn our eyes to another beauty, the beauty of his garments.

Evil spirits feared these garments and fled from them, and diseases were healed through them (Acts 19:12). Wherever Paul appeared, everything yielded and submitted to him as to the conqueror of the universe.

When men wounded many times in war see the weapons that wounded them, they tremble. So too the evil spirits, merely seeing his handkerchiefs, withdrew.

Where now are the rich and those proud of their possessions? Where are those who count up their honors and costly garments? If they compare themselves with Paul, they will see that all their treasures are filth and dung.

Why do I speak of garments and golden things? If someone offered me authority over the whole universe, I would count one of Paul's fingernails greater than such authority.

I would count his poverty higher than every luxury, his dishonor higher than every honor, his nakedness higher than every wealth, the blow to his sacred head higher than every pleasure, and the stones thrown at him higher than every diadem.

Beloved, let us also desire such a crown for ourselves. Though there is no persecution now, let us prepare ourselves for it.

He became glorious not through persecutions alone. "I discipline my body," he said (1 Cor 9:27), and this can be done even without persecutions.

Again he exhorted, "Make no provision for the flesh, to fulfill its lusts" (Rom 13:14). And again, "Having food and clothing, with these we shall be content" (1 Tim 6:8). For this there is no need of persecution.

He admonishes the rich in this way: "Those who desire to be rich fall into temptation" (1 Tim 6:9). Therefore, if we train and struggle in this way, we shall be crowned.

Even if there is no persecution, we shall receive great rewards for it. But if we fatten our body and live a life fit for swine, then even in peace we shall fall into many sins and be put to shame.

Do you not know with whom our warfare is? With bodiless powers (Eph 6:12). How then shall we overcome them if we are fleshly?

If a man who fights against other men needs prudent restraint, much more does he need it against evil spirits. If, while we are fattened, we are also attached to riches, how shall we overcome these adversaries?

Riches are bonds, heavy bonds for those who do not know how to use them. They are a cruel and inhuman tyrant, directing everything toward the destruction of those enslaved to them.

But if we wish, we can cast down from its throne the heavy power of this tyrant. We can make it obey us, instead of ruling over us.

How? If we distribute our wealth to all. As long as it is alone with us, like a robber in the wilderness, it causes every kind of evil.

But when we bring it into the fellowship of men, it can no longer rule us, because then all restrain it from every side.

I do not say that it is a sin to possess riches. The sin is not sharing them with the poor and using them badly.

God made nothing evil, but "everything was very good" (Gen 1:31). Therefore riches too are good, when they do not master those who possess them, and when they deliver neighbors from poverty.

Light would not be good if it did not drive away darkness, but instead increased it. So I will not call wealth good if it does not deliver from poverty, but multiplies poverty.

The rich man is the one who does not need to take from others, but himself helps others. Whoever strives to take from others is not rich, but poor.

Thus wealth is not evil, but a wretched disposition of soul, which turns wealth into poverty.

Such people are more miserable than those who ask alms in the alleys, the blind and the maimed. Though clothed in silk and bright garments, they are more contemptible than those dressed in rags.

Though they walk proudly in the marketplace, they are poorer than those wandering at crossroads, entering courtyards, and there crying out and begging for help.

The latter glorify God and speak words of mercy and great philosophy. Therefore we have compassion on them, stretch out a helping hand, and never condemn them.

But wicked rich men belch forth words of cruelty and inhumanity, covetousness and satanic desires. Therefore they are hateful and ridiculous to everyone.

Consider what all people regard as shameful: to take from the rich, or from the poor? Certainly from the poor. Yet this is what rich men do, for they never go to those richer than themselves.

The poor take from the rich. A beggar will not ask from a beggar, but from someone more sufficient than himself. But the rich man demands from the poor.

Moreover, tell me, which is more honorable: to receive from those who give willingly and are well disposed, or to demand and force those who are unwilling? Certainly not to force the unwilling.

But rich men do the opposite. The poor receive from those who give willingly and are well disposed. The rich receive from those unwilling and resisting.

This is proof of their great poverty. If no one would dare go to dinner when the host is not kindly disposed toward the guest, is it good to take another's property by compulsion?

Imitate me, he says, in all things. Do not be puffed up by wisdom or wealth, and do not be at enmity with the brethren. Rather, place both wisdom and wealth in love for Christ and for the brethren. Notice the goodness of his heart: he beseeches, and does not command. To offer oneself as an example for imitation is a sign of great boldness.

In what, then, must and can we imitate the Apostle? First, in good-spirited endurance for Christ's sake of all sorrows and privations. We should regard all this as punishment for our sins (Wis 11:17), as medicine for sin (Hos 6:1-2), and as a necessary trial of your faith and a sign of God's special love for us (Heb 12:6; Prov 3:11-12).

Second, we can imitate the holy Apostle Paul in industriousness. This virtue is a great power in life. Without labor, many could not exist (Gen 3:19), and they would not escape grave sins in idleness (Sir 33:28).

Labor was appointed for us by God already in Adam's life in paradise, as a good and soul-saving work. After the expulsion from paradise it also became a means of repentance, constantly reminding us of the fall, and a punishment for sin.

And therefore the Apostle says: “Imitate me.” Paul wants us to remember our transgressions. The Apostle had nothing to weep over from the time he believed in Christ, yet he mourned his former sins: “I am unworthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the Church of God” (1 Cor 15:9). Thus he was a sinner before he believed, while we still sin even after believing. Whoever is sinful should mourn himself and accuse himself, in order to become righteous. For “the righteous man accuses himself” (Prov 18:17).

Out of goodwill the holy Apostle beseeches his children to imitate their father. That is, he acts like a physician who asks the sick for permission to give them medicine. Paul wishes to find imitators in them. For just as he suffered much from unbelievers for their salvation and, after departing, preached to them day and night the free gift of God, so they too should remain in his faith and teaching. They should not accept the crooked teachings of the false apostles, but steadfastly endure contempt, reproaches, and reviling, so as to preserve whole and pure the love of their father.

“I beseech you,” brethren, “be imitators of me,” that is, humble yourselves as I humble myself. Endure what I endure. Boast in sufferings, not in gifts.

The first preacher of the word of faith in Corinth was the Apostle Paul. There he suffered much from the Jews and Greeks who were there (Acts 18:17). There also "many of the Corinthians, hearing, believed and were baptized" (Acts 18:8).

After Paul, Apollos and other preachers of the faith came to Corinth and taught there. These he calls tutors, because they too instructed them in piety. He calls himself their father, since he first preached the Gospel to them.

He turned them from the worship of idols to the true Christian faith, and begot them anew. He made fleshly men spiritual, and earthly men heavenly.

"I write these things," he says, meaning these reproofs to you, Corinthians, "not to shame your faces, but to instruct you as my beloved children."

For although you have many tutors, you do not have many fathers who can reprove you for sins with such boldness and love, and give you counsel without hesitation. I alone am your father according to the spirit. I begot you by teaching you the evangelical faith.

Since, then, I have the right to be called your father, "therefore I beseech you, be imitators of me." Imitate my faith in Christ, my love, my humility, my hope, my zeal, and my other virtues.

Only Paul, and anyone else who has attained the perfection of his virtue, can say with boldness, "Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ."

By tutors he means nurses or instructors.

How did the all-praised Paul dare to set himself as an example instead of Jesus Christ, saying, "Be imitators of me" (1 Cor 4:16)? Why in this exhortation did he not imitate Peter?

Who does not know that a copy is never exactly what the original is? However great the holiness and perfection in Paul's ways and deeds may be, they do not attain the boundless degree of holiness and perfection of Jesus Christ.

Paul is only man, but Jesus Christ is both God and man. Why then did Paul turn our eyes from Jesus Christ to himself, that is, from the most perfect example to one less perfect?

We believe that the words of the Apostle Paul are inspired by God, equal in power and honor to the other words of divine Scripture. Therefore, like all his other sayings, these words, "Be imitators of me," contain a spiritual and saving meaning.

First, one sees that he did not pass over imitation of Jesus Christ in silence. He even presented Him as the original example, and confessed that he himself looked to Him and received from Him the pattern of every virtue.

"Be imitators of me," he said, "as I also am of Christ." Second, one can see that he spoke this way in order to show the ease of the work, incline his own people more toward virtue, and thereby benefit them.

Listen to how this word, "Be imitators of me," acts upon the souls of the faithful and benefits them.

The more senses communicate concepts of things to the mind, the more firmly it is convinced of their existence. Therefore we are more easily convinced of what we see, hear, and touch than of what we only hear.

For this reason Peter and John spoke with such boldness before the council: "We cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard" (Acts 4:20). John wrote, "That which we heard, which we saw with our eyes, which we beheld, and our hands handled, concerning the Word of life: that which we saw and heard we declare to you" (1 Jn 1:1, 3).

The Corinthians had heard about Jesus Christ, but they had not seen Him Himself, nor His miracles and deeds. But when Paul came to Corinth and taught them, then they both saw and heard him.

Their hands, so to speak, handled his life and deeds. They saw his labors, chains, and sorrows, which he endured there for the preaching of the faith. They saw all his virtues and wondrous accomplishments.

Therefore he sets himself before them as an example visible, known, and tangible, and consequently able to stir them up to the doing of good works.

Imitate, he says, the faith, love, hope, zeal, and labors which you saw, knew, and handled in me.

This word is powerful, for a visible example has great power. And lest anyone think that he said this out of pride, he at the same time offers the archetypal example: "Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ" (1 Cor 4:16).

It is as though he said: Whoever imitates me imitates Jesus Christ, for I became an example worthy of imitation not by myself, but by imitating Christ.

This apostolic word, my beloved brethren, takes away every excuse that we usually make when we turn aside from the path of perfection and virtue.

When I behold in spirit Jesus Christ, Master of all creation, as a servant girded with a towel, pouring water into a basin, bending His knees before His disciples, washing their feet, and wiping them with the towel with which He was girded (Jn 13:5), then I marvel at His boundless humility.

I am moved to compunction, I weep, and my conscience moves me toward the virtue of humility. But my all-wicked mind, corrupted by pride, presents the Godhead of Jesus Christ as my excuse.

"Jesus Christ," my reason says to me, "being most perfect God, also had most perfect humility. But you, being an imperfect man, cannot imitate Him. You cannot humble yourself as much as He humbled Himself."

This excuse stops the movement of conscience and its urging toward humility.

When I behold in spirit Jesus Christ, my Creator and Lord, dragged before tribunals, mocked by soldiers, spat upon, struck on the face, holding a reed in His right hand and a crown of thorns on His head, crucified between two thieves. Blasphemed by passersby, mocked by the chief priests, reproached by the thieves crucified with Him, and in all this like a guileless lamb who does not open His mouth, then I marvel and am amazed at His extraordinary meekness and patience.

I am pierced in heart and stirred by conscience to practice these great virtues. But my mind, corrupted by the passion of anger and fury, produces the Godhead of Jesus Christ as an excuse.

It tells me that Jesus Christ, as God and being passionless, possessed in infinite perfection the virtues of meekness and patience. But you, as a man subject to passions, cannot be His imitator and endure what He endured.

This excuse chokes the promptings of my conscience.

When I mentally ascend Mount Golgotha and there see the sinless Jesus Christ hanging on the Cross for my salvation, suffering from the cruel wounds and pains of the Cross. When I hear Him justifying His enemies and praying for His crucifiers, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" (Lk 23:34), then I am moved to compunction and pierced as I behold His infinite guilelessness and compassion.

Then tears flow from my eyes, and my conscience itself teaches me, saying: Forgive your enemies too, according to the example of your Redeemer and Master.

But my mind, corrupted by the passion of hatred and self-love, finds in the Godhead of Jesus Christ a cause for excuse. It says to me: Jesus Christ, being God and having infinite perfections, also has boundless guilelessness and mercy.

But you, as a man, being so imperfect and held by so many passions, cannot imitate Him. You cannot be as guileless and merciful as He was.

From this the soul's zeal grows cold, and the voice of conscience weakens.

Every Christian, reflecting on the holiness of the deeds of Jesus Christ, marvels at them, is perplexed, is crushed, and desires to become His imitator. But imagining that Jesus Christ is not only man, but also God, he excuses himself by his infirmities and renounces such an undertaking.

But if, seeing in the Apostle Paul such humility as he showed when he called himself the refuse of the world and the trampling-place of all earthborn men, "we have become as the refuse of the world. The offscouring of all things until now" (1 Cor 4:13), if, seeing this, we are proud and boast in our virtue, nobility, wealth, authority, and dignities, what justification do we have?

Paul was not the God-man as Jesus Christ is, but only a man like us. How, then, could he, though he was a chosen vessel, teacher of the universe, and light of the whole world (Acts 9:15), "caught up even to the third heaven and hearing ineffable words" (2 Cor 12:4), descend to such a depth of humility?

And how can we, being men as he was a man, think highly of ourselves, though we do not have the gifts he had, and turn away from the great virtue of humility? What pretext for self-justification does our mind invent in this?

What excuse do we deserve when we look at the Apostle Paul and see that, for love of Christ and zeal for the salvation of his neighbor, he hungered, thirsted, was naked, suffered, wandered, labored, and worked with his own hands (1 Cor 4:11-12)?

Yet we not only do not endure hunger and thirst, but do not even wish to abstain from certain foods during the fast.

We not only do not endure nakedness, but even despise modest and humble clothing. We not only do not bear injuries done to us, but become angry with our brother over one cold word spoken carelessly.

We not only flee the discomfort joined to continual change of place, but do not wish for even one hour, out of love for Jesus Christ and for our neighbor's good, to leave the pleasures of our quiet and careless life.

How shall we excuse ourselves when we see that Paul blesses those who insult him, is magnanimous toward his persecutors, and forgives those who slander him (1 Cor 4:12-13)?

We, on the contrary, if we receive even some small harm from another, act deceitfully, strive by every means to harm him, and persecute him even to death.

Paul was a man like us, clothed in the same flesh as we are, tempted by the same passions and desires as we are, living in the same world in which we live.

He struggled continually with the same principalities and powers, the same rulers of the darkness of this age, and the spirits of wickedness under heaven (Eph 6:12), with whom we also struggle.

Yet in all this he conquered his enemies, triumphed, and became an imitator of Jesus Christ. But we are conquered by them, turn back, and become imitators of the devil. What justification or excuse, then, do we have in this?

You say that, being a man, it is impossible to imitate Jesus Christ, because He was not only man but also God. Why, then, did Paul become His imitator?

You say that you cannot walk in the footsteps of Jesus Christ because He was the God-man. Then walk in the footsteps of the Apostle Paul, who was only a man, as you are.

Do you see what heavenly wisdom is contained in this apostolic saying: "Be imitators of me, as I also am of Christ" (1 Cor 4:16)?

Do you see how it takes away from our hearts every pretext for justification, destroys all our objections, and leaves us without answer?

If, as you say, you cannot imitate Jesus Christ because He is the God-man, then imitate Paul, who was only a man. By imitating him, you will imitate Christ Himself, because Paul is an imitator of Christ.

"Be imitators of me, as I also am of Christ."

But we do not have, you will say, Paul's mind, or his will, or the grace he acquired. True, but you can receive these gifts if only you desire them. For the Lord God created you self-governing and free in will.

Paul himself was once a stranger to these good thoughts and this will, but afterward he acquired them. At first he was a persecutor of Jesus Christ, but afterward he preached His name among all the nations.

At first he strove to destroy the Church of Christ, but afterward he built and established it. At first he was an irreconcilable enemy of Christians, but afterward he became their zealous defender.

At first he darkened human souls by preaching Judaism. Afterward he enlightened the whole universe by preaching Christianity.

Therefore, if your thoughts and will are evil, change them into good ones. Then you will have the mind and will of Saint Paul. Then you will receive the grace that he received.

"For there is no partiality with God. There is one God and Father, who is over all and through all and in us all" (Rom 2:11; Eph 4:6).

“Be imitators of me,” that is, imitate me. Their birth from Paul obliges the Corinthians to imitate him in humility and patience, of which he spoke above.

In conclusion the Apostle softens his reproofs, explains the purpose of Timothy’s mission to the Corinthians, and announces his intention to come to them personally (1 Cor 4:14-21). 1 Cor 4:14-16: “I do not write these things to shame you,” that is, the reproof of proud self-satisfaction and Hellenic attachment to earthly wisdom and the eloquence of their teachers, “but I admonish you as my beloved children. For though you have ten thousand instructors in Christ there in Corinth, you do not have many fathers; for I begot you in Christ Jesus through the gospel. Therefore I beseech you: imitate me,” in humility, “as I imitate Christ.”

Having fallen into exaltation, the Corinthians had, as it were, departed from the guidance given to them. Therefore the Apostle sets before them examples directly opposed to their conduct.

The Old Testament period also abounds in examples of suffering for the faith. Yet the Apostle points the Corinthians to such examples in the holy Apostles, and even in himself, as someone more familiar and close to them.

He was their instructor and father, whom they ought to imitate by virtue of their spiritual birth from him. This birth unites children with the fathers who have begotten them in the spirit far more strongly than natural birth does.

An unexpected application! Therefore it is difficult to guess the Apostle's direct thought. Theodoret paraphrases this place thus: "Humble yourselves as I humble myself. Endure what I endure. Boast in sufferings, not in gifts."

Theophylact says: "Imitate me in everything. Do not be puffed up by wisdom or wealth. Do not separate yourselves from the brethren. Count wisdom and wealth to be only this: to love Christ and the brethren in Christ. See what tenderness! He entreats and does not command."

Perhaps the Apostle wished to say only this: see then that you do not separate yourselves from me in soul. Remain faithful both to the teaching and to the commandments of Christ. Remember me also, and do not break spiritual communion and heartfelt union with me.