If any of you has a dispute with another, do you dare to take it before the ungodly for judgment instead of before the Lord’s people? – 1 Cor. 6:1
There are certain phrases in Scripture that make us stop mid-sentence and look back at the page like we’ve misread something. “Do you not know that we will judge angels?” is one of those lines. Paul drops it into the middle of a very practical, very earthy problem – church members suing one another…. and suddenly the conversation goes cosmic!
That’s what happens in 1st Corinthians 6.
The issue on the table is painfully ordinary. Believers in Corinth were dragging each other into pagan courts. Brothers and sisters in Christ, people who prayed together and broke bread together, were hiring lawyers and airing grievances before unbelieving judges. Paul is clearly grieved, and honestly, a little incredulous. “Is there really no one among you wise enough to settle a dispute between believers?” he asks. Not sarcastically – but not not sarcastically either.
Paul’s argument in verses 1–8 is pretty straightforward. If the church is truly the people of God, if the Spirit really dwells among them, then surely they can handle disagreements without turning to the world’s systems! The lawsuits themselves weren’t just legal problems, they were spiritual failures. Paul even goes so far as to say it would be better to be wronged than to wrong a fellow believer in this way. Now that is a hard word. Because most of us would rather be right than be Christlike when conflict flares.
And let’s be honest… disagreements among Christians are not unusual. Personalities clash, expectations disappoint, and words are sometimes misunderstood. That’s not shocking. What grieves the heart of God is when those disagreements morph into public disputes that fracture unity and damage the witness of the church. When believers treat one another like enemies to be defeated rather than family to be reconciled with, something precious is lost.
That’s the pastoral heart behind Paul’s rebuke. He’s not just trying to keep the church out of court. He’s trying to keep the church from forgetting who they are.
And then – right in the middle of that – he says something astonishing.
“Do you not know that we will judge angels?”
What on earth do we do with that?!
At first glance, it sounds like Paul is talking over his head. Or maybe over ours. Angels? Really? We’re just trying to figure out how to forgive someone who borrowed our ladder and never returned it. And Paul is talking about judging angels?
But Paul isn’t speculating here. He’s not chasing a theological rabbit. He’s making a point by contrast. His logic is something like this: If God has entrusted you with a future role in His cosmic purposes -if you will participate in judging the world, even angels – how is it possible that you can’t handle a small, temporary dispute among yourselves right now?
That’s the weight of verse 3.
So what does Paul mean when he says we will judge angels? Scripture doesn’t give us a full, technical explanation, and that’s probably intentional. But if you read the Bible, there are clues. Throughout the New Testament, believers are described as sharing in Christ’s reign, seated with Him, participating in His rule. Judgment, in the biblical sense, isn’t just condemnation. It’s also governance, discernment, and authority under God. Paul seems to be pointing to the future reality of the redeemed (you and me) participating in God’s final ordering of all things, including the fallen spiritual powers that rebelled against Him.
In other words, Paul isn’t exaggerating. And he’s not confused. He’s reminding the Corinthians (and us) that our calling is far bigger than we tend to remember.
But here’s the quiet irony: people destined to share in Christ’s authority were acting as though they were powerless to resolve everyday conflicts! So they were living beneath their God-given identity.
And we do that too.
We forget who we are when pride takes over. We forget who we are when winning feels more important than loving. And we forget who we are when we’d rather escalate than reconcile. Paul’s words expose that gap between our future glory and our present immaturity. And I think if we’re honest, we will recognize that that gap does indeed exist.
“Lawsuits and angels.” It’s an odd pairing. But maybe that’s the point. Paul pulls the curtain back on eternity to correct behavior in the present. He lifts their eyes upward so they’ll finally look inward.
God cares deeply about how His children treat one another. Not because disagreements never happen, but because unity reflects His character. When conflict is handled with humility, patience, and grace, the church bears witness to a different kingdom—a kingdom not built on power plays or public victories, but on reconciliation.
Paul isn’t just asking the Corinthians to stop suing each other. He’s asking them to live like people who belong to Christ. People whose future is secure. People who don’t need to grasp for control now, because God has already promised them more than they can imagine.
Even angels, apparently.
Former Blackout Artist 