Letters to the Faithful - 1 Corinthians 1:14
Berean Standard Bible
I thank God that I did not baptize any of you except Crispus and Gaius,
King James Bible
I thank God that I baptized none of you, but Crispus and Gaius;
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To all the saints in Christ Jesus, called to live in the unity of the Spirit and the power of the cross, to the beloved in every place who call on the name of our Lord, both theirs and ours, grace and peace be multiplied to you in the knowledge of God and in the communion of the Holy Spirit.
I write to you with the earnest desire to see the Church of our Lord walking in the clarity of purpose, unshaken by distraction, and steadfast in the one thing that defines us—Jesus Christ and Him crucified. In a world saturated with division, preference, personalities, and party spirit, the words of the apostle Paul in his letter to the Corinthians strike with timeless clarity and convicting simplicity: “I thank God that I baptized none of you, but Crispus and Gaius.”
At first glance, this may seem like a mere administrative detail, a passing reference to Paul’s travel log or a point of memory. But behind this verse is a deep spiritual principle that the modern Church must urgently recover. Paul was not diminishing baptism—far from it. Baptism was commanded by Christ, practiced by the apostles, and remains a sacred sign of new life. But Paul, addressing a divided and contentious church, was confronting something deeper: the creeping sin of factionalism, the subtle pride of aligning with personalities over Christ, the temptation to glory in who baptized us rather than in the One into whose name we are baptized.
He had just spoken of how some among them were saying, “I am of Paul,” or “I am of Apollos,” or “I am of Cephas,” or even “I am of Christ”—not as a declaration of faith but as a badge of superiority. This was not doctrinal loyalty—it was carnal tribalism. And Paul, grieved by such disunity, says something shocking for an apostle: “I thank God I didn’t baptize most of you.” Why? Because he would not give room for anyone to claim spiritual superiority based on association with his name. Paul refused to allow his ministry to be turned into a brand. He would not allow his labor to be hijacked by ego or entitlement. He wanted nothing to detract from the glory and sufficiency of Jesus Christ.
Beloved, do we not find this same spirit among us today? Have we not, in too many corners of the Church, become followers of personalities rather than disciples of Christ? We attach ourselves to movements, ministries, denominations, or famous preachers and then build our identities around them. We speak more of our church’s founder than of the Cross. We quote teachers more than the Scriptures. We divide over leadership styles and theological camps more than we gather around the one Lord who bought us with His blood.
Paul’s words call us to deep self-examination. Are we building with Christ as the Cornerstone, or are we laying bricks around the reputation of human leaders? Have we made celebrity of the servants, forgetting that even Paul, Apollos, and Cephas were but laborers under the One who gives the increase? Do we see the work of ministry as a platform for our own name, or as an altar for God’s glory?
This verse is not only about what Paul didn’t do—it’s about what he protected. He was protecting the purity of the gospel, the centrality of Christ, and the unity of the Church. He was resisting the temptation to tie converts to himself, and instead pointing them always and only to Jesus. He saw the great danger that arises when the Church starts boasting in men, even good and godly men. Because once our allegiance shifts from the Cross to the man who stands beside it, we are no longer operating in the Spirit but in the flesh.
The practical application for us today is clear and urgent. We must guard our hearts from the pull of personality-driven faith. It is good to honor leaders, to give thanks for those who labor in the Word, and to walk in mutual accountability—but our identity must never be anchored in man. We are not the disciples of pastors, bishops, or apostles. We are disciples of Christ. We are not the product of institutions—we are the workmanship of God. Let us not say, “I was baptized by this one” or “I follow that one,” as if our spiritual standing were elevated by proximity to prominence.
Instead, let us say, “I am in Christ. I was buried with Him in baptism and raised with Him to new life. I boast in nothing but the Cross.” And for those of us who minister, let us take Paul’s example to heart. Let us refuse to build platforms that gather people to ourselves. Let us preach with boldness, serve with humility, and point always to the Savior, never to ourselves. Let us rejoice when people forget our names and remember only the name of Jesus.
Let every church, every gathering, every ministry be centered not on charisma, but on Christ. Let us celebrate not whose hands baptized us, but whose blood redeemed us. Let the Church be marked not by fragmentation, but by fellowship. Let us be known not by division, but by devotion—one body, many parts, one Lord, one faith, one baptism.
Paul’s statement may sound simple, but its implication is radical. He refused to capitalize on his spiritual influence. He rejoiced not in recognition, but in the preservation of the gospel’s purity. May we have the same courage to lay down every crown, every title, every name that competes with the name above all names. May we decrease, that Christ may increase.
So I urge you, dear brothers and sisters—examine your heart. Where have you placed your confidence? Where have you found your spiritual identity? Whose voice holds sway over your devotion? Let us return to the simplicity of Christ. Let us be a people who care less about who baptized us and more about who saved us. Let us give honor where it is due, but worship where it is owed.
May the Church arise in this generation—not divided by camps or content creators, not fractured by ego or envy, but united in the truth that we all belong to one Lord, called to one purpose, and saved by one gospel.
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Heavenly Father, eternal and wise, full of mercy and truth, we come before You with humbled hearts and open hands, acknowledging that You alone are worthy of all glory, all honor, and all praise. You are the One who calls us out of darkness into Your marvelous light. You are the One who builds Your Church not on the strength or wisdom of man, but upon the unshakable foundation of Jesus Christ and Him crucified. You are holy, incorruptible, and perfect in all Your ways.
Lord, we thank You for the clarity of Your Word and the searching power of Your Spirit. We lift up this moment from the letter of Paul to the Corinthians, where he said, “I thank God that I baptized none of you, but Crispus and Gaius.” At first, it seems a strange thing to be grateful for—yet we understand that what Paul rejoiced in was not the withholding of baptism, but the preserving of the gospel's purity. He rejoiced that the people would not cling to his name but to the name that is above every name—Jesus Christ.
God, we ask You to search us and see if there is any hidden allegiance in our hearts that does not belong to You. See if we have clung to men more than we have clung to Your Son. Forgive us for the times we have elevated personalities above Your presence, when we have given more honor to gifted individuals than to the Giver of all good things. Forgive us, Lord, when we have become followers of leaders rather than disciples of Christ. Forgive us when we have allowed Your Church to be fractured by pride, party spirit, and preferences of flesh.
Cleanse us, O God, from every root of division. Let no human name be exalted above Yours in our assemblies. Let no church culture, denomination, or preacher’s fame take the place of Christ crucified. Bring us back to the simple truth: that we were not saved by Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or any servant of Yours—we were saved by the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.
Help us, Lord, to boast in nothing but the cross. Let our gratitude be not in who ministered to us first, or who taught us, or who baptized us—but in who redeemed us. Let us lift our eyes above the hands that served us, to the pierced hands that saved us. Let us remember that even Your most faithful apostles were but vessels, broken jars of clay carrying the treasure of Christ.
Lord, we pray for unity in Your Body. Bring healing to every wound caused by division. Reconcile every brother and sister separated by pride or misunderstanding. Pour out the oil of humility and the water of truth upon Your Church. Help us to love one another deeply, not because we agree on every method, but because we are one in Your Spirit, one in Your blood, one in Your name.
We pray especially for spiritual leaders, pastors, teachers, and ministers in this generation. Guard them from the trap of seeking fame. Protect them from the temptation to build their own name rather than lift up Yours. Let them decrease, as Christ increases. Let them, like Paul, be able to say with pure conscience, “I did not build a ministry around myself—I pointed men to Jesus.” Let the pulpit be a place of surrender, not performance. Let their words carry the fragrance of heaven, not the ambition of men.
Lord, give us the discernment to honor godly leaders without idolizing them. Give us hearts that respect authority, but know the difference between shepherds and the Shepherd. Help us to listen to faithful voices while always filtering them through the unchanging Word of God. Let us never confuse the voice of a servant with the voice of the King.
Teach us, Lord, to be grateful for those who planted and watered, but to always give the increase to You. Teach us to build with gold and not with straw, to build on the foundation of Christ and not on clever words or smooth personalities. If we have ever made ministry about men instead of about You, if we have ever competed in the Spirit or compared ourselves to one another, let conviction fall and repentance rise.
We thank You, Father, that You are not building a brand—you are building a Bride. And the Bride belongs to the Bridegroom. We do not belong to men. We are not property of preachers. We are blood-bought children of the Most High God. Let that identity be enough. Let that calling be our joy. Let that truth anchor us when personalities rise and fall, when movements come and go, when trends fade and titles shift. Let the Church endure, not because of celebrity, but because of the cross.
Lord, make us a people that tremble not at the presence of great men, but at the presence of a holy God. Let our gatherings be marked not by the popularity of those who lead, but by the presence of the One who reigns. Let us be eager to exalt You and reluctant to elevate ourselves. Let us thank You—not that we were made known by others, but that we were made new by Christ.
And so we pray today: remove the names we cling to, if they have replaced Yours. Strip away every identity that competes with the one You have given us. Refocus our worship, our labor, our identity, our joy—back to the cross, back to Christ, back to You.
In the mighty name of Jesus Christ, the only name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved, we pray.
Amen.
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