First Sunday in Lent, February 22, 2015

Collect for the Day 

Almighty God, whose blessed Son was led by the Spirit to be tempted by Satan: Come quickly to help us who are assaulted by many temptations; and, as you know the weaknesses of each of us, let each one find you mighty to save; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

 

Reflections: The readings are united by themes of vocation and temptation. Paradoxically, our sense of God’s invitation to us seems to be linked to the experience of temptation. It is a truism that once we set ourselves in the way of Christ—here comes trouble! Yet our struggle is tempered by divine assistance; as Paul reminds us elsewhere, the Spirit itself accompanies us and provides the way through. 

First Lesson: Genesis 9:8-17

God said to Noah and to his sons with him, "As for me, I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendants after you, and with every living creature that is with you, the birds, the domestic animals, and every animal of the earth with you, as many as came out of the ark. I establish my covenant with you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth."

God said, "This is the sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living the creature that is with you, for all future generations: I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth. When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh; and the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh. When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth." God said to Noah, "This is the sign of the covenant that I have established between me and all flesh that is on the earth."  

Reflections: We naturally think of the “Old” Testament (or Covenant) and the “New.” But covenant theology points out as many as seven. I find the Noahic covenant (the second) of special interest.

We Christians know that God is concerned about human beings, and—beyond Creation in Genesis—we give little thought to the rest of the natural world—except where it affects people. The Noahic Covenant, however, clearly testifies to God’s intentional relationship to the whole of creation.

 

Psalm 25:1-9 Ad te, Domine, levavi

To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul; my God, I put my trust in you; *

     let me not be humiliated, nor let my enemies triumph over me.

Let none who look to you be put to shame; * let the treacherous be disappointed in their schemes.

Show me your ways, O LORD, * and teach me your paths.

Lead me in your truth and teach me, * for you are the God of my salvation; in you have I trusted all the day long.

Remember, O LORD, your compassion and love, * for they are from everlasting.

Remember not the sins of my youth and my transgressions; *

     remember me according to your love and for the sake of your goodness, O LORD.

Gracious and upright is the LORD; * therefore he teaches sinners in his way.

He guides the humble in doing right * and teaches his way to the lowly.

All the paths of the LORD are love and faithfulness * to those who keep his covenant and his testimonies.  
 

Reflections: The first reading challenges our knee-jerk reaction to interpret “covenant” in the last line as Torah—the Law. It is true that the Noahic covenant is between God an all life, to never again destroy all living things. Surely fidelity to that covenant is up to God. It is not our business. Or is it? Is it incumbent upon us to respect what God values? What would it look like if we took the Noahic covenant seriously?

Epistle: 1 Peter 3:18-22

Christ also suffered for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, in order to bring you to God. He was put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit, in which also he went and made a proclamation to the spirits in prison, who in former times did not obey, when God waited patiently in the days of Noah, during the building of the ark, in which a few, that is, eight persons, were saved through water. And baptism, which this prefigured, now saves you-- not as a removal of dirt from the body, but as an appeal to God for a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, who has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers made subject to him. 

Reflections: Two ideas from this reading really catch my attention. First, St. Peter’s interpretation of the Flood as a prefiguration of baptism. Through Noah, God gives a fresh start to creation:  humans, mammals, reptiles, creepy-crawlies and all. There is no eligibility requirement whatsoever, and—in this respect—no bias towards humanity.

Second, Peter makes the stupendous claim that Christ “went and made a proclamation to the spirits in prison.” While many of us are willing to grant that Christ’s salvation extends back in time to righteous people who lived before Jesus, the apostle goes further. Christ’s proclamation was addressed “to the spirits in prison, who in former times did not obey . . . during the building of the ark.” In other words, here is a startling statement that Christ offers salvation even to those who were deliberately wiped out for their wickedness. To those who don’t deserve it.

The claim is bound to trigger contrasting responses. First perhaps, indignation that those people get another chance. Second, relief that God is merciful: We . . . get another chance.  

Gospel: Mark 1:9-15

In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased."

          And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.

Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news."
 

Reflections: Mother Karen pointed out that the “wilderness” represented a real, geographical area that did not support life; the land lacked any support for human life, and the wild animals there were hungry. Nevertheless, Jesus—God’s chosen—is “driven” there by the Spirit. Jesus remains in that brutal environment 40 days (the time that the arc floated on the waters). And like the inhabitants of the arc, who emerged a new people on a renewed earth, Jesus is purified by his ordeal.

          Purified? Surely Jesus doesn’t need purification. (But by the same token, he surely didn’t need baptism . . .). Nevertheless, both occurred, and both may signify something more than historical events. What if there is a relationship between baptism and entering the wilderness?

This may seem bizarre, but when Jesus rose up out of the water, his deepest identity was revealed. Perhaps this very revelation brought temptations, for example, the temptation use his power or influence to satisfy his needs or his yearnings.

We know that the temptations must have been real because Jesus was as fully human as we are. Therefore, we can’t read the story of the wilderness as “Satan suggested a devilish idea, but Jesus discarded it easily.” No, instead, it seems that Jesus felt the temptations.

And that means, to me, at least, that struggling with temptation is normal. (If it’s not a struggle, it’s not temptation.) In other words, we aren’t bad people because we suffer temptation. What matters—and in fact what helps us mature spiritually—is our ultimate response to temptations. Perhaps we experience the impulse to take advantage of others or of our situation, the inclination to hang back in fear or to aggressively push our point of view, the lure of surrendering to despair . . .

But we can take heart because Jesus, as it says in Hebrews, he “was tempted as we are.” Christ was there with the wild beasts, yet he was ministered to by angels—right there in the thick of it, right there where you’d think no self-respecting angel would dare set foot. And there—maybe especially there—God waits to minister to us. He who was tempted, though he did not sin, is with us right there in the worse of it, ready to strengthen and to forgive.

 

Last Sunday After Epiphany, February 15, 2015

Collect for the Day

O God, who before the passion of your only-begotten Son revealed his glory upon the holy mountain: Grant to us that we, beholding by faith the light of his countenance, may be strengthened to bear our cross, and be changed into his likeness from glory to glory; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen. 

Reflections: Life can be brutal. The disciples were fortunate, though. They carried the Transfiguration—however unconsciously—into their experience of the Passion. It allowed them to put the horror into a larger context, to wrestle divine significance out of the meaningless events. We, too, are shepherded through dark valleys by the long history of the faith of the church, the Communion of Saints, and our own parish family. But most especially, we are nourished resting in God. That is contemplative prayer. This season, St. Luke’s offers us many opportunities to cultivate that stillness. 

First Lesson: 2 Kings 2:1-12 (13-14)

Now when the LORD was about to take Elijah up to heaven by a whirlwind, Elijah and Elisha were on their way from Gilgal. Elijah said to Elisha, "Stay here; for the LORD has sent me as far as Bethel." But Elisha said, "As the LORD lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you." So they went down to Bethel. The company of prophets who were in Bethel came out to Elisha, and said to him, "Do you know that today the LORD will take your master away from you?" And he said, "Yes, I know; keep silent."

Elijah said to him, "Elisha, stay here; for the LORD has sent me to Jericho." But he said, "As the LORD lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you." So they came to Jericho. The company of prophets who were at Jericho drew near to Elisha, and said to him, "Do you know that today the LORD will take your master away from you?" And he answered, "Yes, I know; be silent."

Then Elijah said to him, "Stay here; for the LORD has sent me to the Jordan." But he said, "As the LORD lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you." So the two of them went on. Fifty men of the company of prophets also went, and stood at some distance from them, as they both were standing by the Jordan. Then Elijah took his mantle and rolled it up, and struck the water; the water was parted to the one side and to the other, until the two of them crossed on dry ground.

When they had crossed, Elijah said to Elisha, "Tell me what I may do for you, before I am taken from you." Elisha said, "Please let me inherit a double share of your spirit." He responded, "You have asked a hard thing; yet, if you see me as I am being taken from you, it will be granted you; if not, it will not." As they continued walking and talking, a chariot of fire and horses of fire separated the two of them, and Elijah ascended in a whirlwind into heaven.  

Elisha kept watching and crying out, "Father, father! The chariots of Israel and its horsemen!" But when he could no longer see him, he grasped his own clothes and tore them in two pieces. (He picked up Elijah’s cloak, which had fallen off him, and went back and stood on the shore of the Jordan. He took the cloak that had fallen off Elijah, hit the water with it, and said, “Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah?” When he hit the water, it divided and Elisha crossed over.)

In the icon to the right, you see Elijah in a chariot drawn by four winged horses in the red roundel; Elisha is to the right, his hands touching his master’s mantle. The Jordan river is just visible below. At the bottom left, an angel ministers to a prone Elijah. At the top left, Christ’s hand reaches out of the Divine Light in blessing. 

Reflections: Isn’t Elisha’s behavior interesting? He shushes the people who tell him Elijah is about to depart; he declines Elijah’s every invitation to stop along the way, to see to his own comfort. But Elisha knows this is a holy time, and is determined not to abandon the journey. Elisha subordinates everything to following Elijah, so that he may put on Elijah’s mantle—which means to become his master’s spiritual heir, to continue to carry out his master’s vocation.

          In a similar way, we become the spiritual heir of our master when, in the words of St. Paul, we “put on Christ” in baptism. We are called to live out his vocation, to take on his mission, to become his heart, hands, and feet in our daily lives.

Psalm 50:1-6 Deus deorum

The LORD, the God of gods, has spoken; * he has called the earth from the rising of the sun to its setting.
Out of Zion, perfect in its beauty, * God reveals himself in glory.
Our God will come and will not keep silence; *
     before him there is a consuming flame, and round about him a raging storm.

He calls the heavens and the earth from above * to witness the judgment of his people.

"Gather before me my loyal followers, * those who have made a covenant with me and sealed it with sacrifice."
Let the heavens declare the rightness of his cause; * for God himself is judge. 

Epistle: 2 Corinthians 4: (2) 3-6

(We . . . not behaving with deceptiveness or distorting the word of God, but by open proclamation of the truth, we commend ourselves to everyone’s conscience before God.) Even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. For we do not proclaim ourselves; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as your slaves for Jesus' sake. For it is the God who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. 

Reflections: St. Paul is defending the gospel against critics who have come into the community later, claiming to have the “real” story. Such was the challenge faced by many early Christians—whose teaching do you follow? Who is the legitimate inheritor of the teacher’s blessing? History shows us that this challenge is faced by adherents of all religions and all movements in all times. It is at the center of the crises in Islam right now.

          St. Paul defends his gospel as one of openness, with no hidden teachings. Yet, it is not easily understood by everyone—hence the charge that it is “veiled.” And we all know that not everyone understands or accepts the gospel. While some of us, in fact, grew up in the church, others of us did not, and the teaching—like it is for so many people today—was opaque to us.

          Perhaps now more than any other time, we are in need of the gospel. The world is full of distractions and dangers, and we are anxious, overstretched, out of time, and easily preoccupied. It takes time and quiet for the gospel to penetrate our hearts. Perhaps this Lent is a good time to ask ourselves what “gods of this world” blind our minds and hearts.  

Gospel: Mark 9:2-9

Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, "Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." He did not know what to say, for they were terrified.
Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, "This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!" Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.

As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.

In this beautiful Russian icon, Elijah (on the left) and Moses (on the right, holding the book of the Law) flank Christ on the mountain peak. The light of God emanates from Christ’s person; this is the same light that appears in the top left corner of the Elijah icon, a light of such blinding brilliance that it is dark to our eyes. Rays of this divine light are illumine the disciples below: Peter, John, and James.

Reflections: Peter is overwhelmed. He suggests monumentalizing the experience by constructing a booth, like the booths built in the wilderness during the Feast of Succoth. (In fact, Mtr Karen said, it is quite possible that the Transfiguration event took place during the time of that festival—making Peter’s suggestion a religious response to the encounter).

          The Transfiguration, however, couldn’t be comprehended by an already existing piety. It was something new; it was revelation. And revelation makes our religious responses foolish; there is only one appropriate response: “Listen!”

Sometimes we, too, are so overwhelmed by experience, or excitement, or enthusiasm, or disillusionment that we become possessed by what we think what we feel. Perhaps those are the most important times to heed the still small voice that calls us to listen.

Ordinary Time: 5th Sunday After Epiphany, February 8, 2015

Collect for the Day

Set us free, O God, from the bondage of our sins, and give us the liberty of that abundant life which you have made known to us in your Son our Savior Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen. 

Reflections: According to the collect, what binds us is sin. In a way, we already know that. On the other hand, it’s easy to blame circumstances rather than to look into ourselves. Sometimes it is the situation that binds us, and that’s often because of systemic sin—sin that is embedded in the way our society and institutions work.

Just as often, however, it is our own sin that binds us—remembering that the definition of sin is some sort of break in our relationship with God. Anger, regret, or fear, for example, can be so absorbing that our hearts around ourselves. They may prove an impediment to our own liberation, or an impediment to changing our circumstances.

First Lesson: Isaiah 40:21-31

Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told you from the beginning?
     Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth?
It is he who sits above the circle of the earth, and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers;
who stretches out the heavens like a curtain, and spreads them like a tent to live in;
who brings princes to naught, and makes the rulers of the earth as nothing.
Scarcely are they planted, scarcely sown,
     scarcely has their stem taken root in the earth, when he blows upon them, and they wither, and the tempest carries them off like stubble.
To whom then will you compare me, or who is my equal? says the Holy One.
Lift up your eyes on high and see: Who created these?
He who brings out their host and numbers them, calling them all by name;
because he is great in strength, mighty in power, not one is missing.
Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel,
"My way is hidden from the LORD, and my right is disregarded by my God"?

Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless.
Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted;
but those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength,
     they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.

Reflections: The Bible—as Christian tradition—maintains a tension between a “transcendent,” distant God, and a radically present, “immanent” God. We tend to place God in one basket or the other. We may picture the “transcendent” God as a judge who glowers at us from heaven. On the other hand, we might see God in the gentle image of a Jesus with soulful eyes, with a lamb slung over his shoulders. So which is it? Is God the transcendent ruler, or the Emmanuel who breathes into us his peace?

     The wonderful passage assigned for the day from the Prophet Isaiah addresses precisely this expectation that God is either/or. To imagine God as majestic and distant leaves us blind to the immediacy of the divine. “How,” one might ask, can a God who “sits above the circle of the earth,” and to whom “its inhabitants are like grasshoppers” take an interest in human life—let alone my life?

     One of the best kept secrets among Christians is that the God of the Hebrew bible is the God who is near. As Jesus knew, we didn’t have to wait for him to find that out. It’s all over the scriptures—Deuteronomy 30:14, I Kings 19:12, Psalm 139, and the Isaiah passage above, to cite some of the most obvious examples.

     This God of the wild universe, whose face we see in Jesus, is with us—and in us—through the mysterious presence of the Spirit. The perennial human error is to think that God is like us, bound by the laws and desires to which we are subject. For this reason, we continually make God in our own image; the irony is that it is God who seeks to remake us in the image of the Divine.

Psalm 147:1-12, 21c  Laudate Dominum

Hallelujah!
How good it is to sing praises to our God! * how pleasant it is to honor him with praise!
The LORD rebuilds Jerusalem; * he gathers the exiles of Israel.
He heals the brokenhearted * and binds up their wounds.
He counts the number of the stars * and calls them all by their names.
Great is our LORD and mighty in power; * there is no limit to his wisdom.
The LORD lifts up the lowly, * but casts the wicked to the ground.
Sing to the LORD with thanksgiving; * make music to our God upon the harp.
He covers the heavens with clouds * and prepares rain for the earth;
He makes grass to grow upon the mountains * and green plants to serve mankind.
He provides food for flocks and herds * and for the young ravens when they cry.
He is not impressed by the might of a horse; * he has no pleasure in the strength of a man;
But the LORD has pleasure in those who fear him, * in those who await his gracious favor.
Hallelujah!

Reflection: The theme of majestic transcendence and radical intimacy also echoes in this psalm. Though on a first-name basis with the stars, God grieves at the suffering of the weak.

Epistle: 1 Corinthians 9:16-23

If I proclaim the gospel, this gives me no ground for boasting, for an obligation is laid on me, and woe to me if I do not proclaim the gospel! For if I do this of my own will, I have a reward; but if not of my own will, I am entrusted with a commission. What then is my reward? Just this: that in my proclamation I may make the gospel free of charge, so as not to make full use of my rights in the gospel.
          For though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a slave to all, so that I might win more of them. To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so that I might win those under the law. To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (though I am not free from God's law but am under Christ's law) so that I might win those outside the law. To the weak I became weak, so that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share in its blessings.

Reflections: St. Paul tells us that his purpose in life is to make the Gospel freely available. His goal is not to save for retirement, to bequeath property to his children, or to build a reputation. The reward of sharing the gospel is sharing the gospel.

          Most of us are afraid of giving ourselves completely—to another person, a talent, an interest, a mission. And rightly so. It is costly, and the price is our lives. If St. Paul had had a wife and children, I wonder if he would have been called to live out his service in a different way.

Gospel: Mark 1:29-39

Jesus left the synagogue at Capernaum, and entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. Now Simon's mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them.
          That evening, at sundown, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gathered around the door. And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.
          In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. And Simon and his companions hunted for him. When they found him, they said to him, "Everyone is searching for you." He answered, "Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do." And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.

Reflections: Now, any feminist would be likely to point out that the poor woman had to be on her deathbed in order to get out of doing the housework. As soon as she felt a little better, she was expected to wait on everybody. I wonder if that would be a realistic depiction of the times. Regardless of the answer, I also wonder whether that questions is not just plain irrelevant.

          What does it mean to be healed? Does it mean a return to normal, a re-establishment of the status quo? Not when Jesus does the healing. I suspect that to be healed by Christ is to be healed from whatever binds us and prevents us from becoming who God intends us to be. And the first expression of that “who” is the open heart, symbolized by hospitality.
          May we be healed—again and again, more and more deeply.

Ordinary Time: 4th Sunday After Epiphany, February 1, 2015

Collect for the Day

Almighty and everlasting God, you govern all things both in heaven and on earth: Mercifully hear the supplications of your people, and in our time grant us your peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

First Lesson: Deuteronomy 18:15-20

Moses said, The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among your own people; you shall heed such a prophet. This is what you requested of the LORD your God at Horeb on the day of the assembly when you said: "If I hear the voice of the LORD my God any more, or ever again see this great fire, I will die." Then the LORD replied to me: "They are right in what they have said. I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their own people; I will put my words in the mouth of the prophet, who shall speak to them everything that I command. Anyone who does not heed the words that the prophet shall speak in my name, I myself will hold accountable. But any prophet who speaks in the name of other gods, or who presumes to speak in my name a word that I have not commanded the prophet to speak-- that prophet shall die."

Reflection: The reading reveals two things about us; first, we shy away from direct encounter with God. The other is to assume that God agrees with us—or worse, caring more for our will than for God’s.

          We shy away from god’s voice; it is not for the faint of heart! Nevertheless, God does not punish us, but meets us through mediators. God had obliged the Israelites by providing a prophet. But as we know from reading the Hebrew Bible, when the excitement abates, so does the people’s determination to follow the path laid out for them.

It’s easy to understand. When we find ourselves in the Emergency Room, we make passionate promises to change our diet and get more exercise. But when the health crisis has passed, our determination fades; our energy dissipates; inertia sets in. However sincerely we may have intended to reform our lives, change is difficult to maintain.

          The Deuteronomy passage isn’t only about the difficulty of followup, though. The other half is of the story is the struggle of those whom God has called to lead. As if discernment of God’s will in our own lives weren’t difficult enough; with all the competing voices and interests, discernment on behalf of a community is even more challenging.

In a wonderful celebration on Monday February 3^rd, we installed Mother Karen as rector of St. Luke’s in the Meadow Episcopal Church. Let us continue to support her ministry through communication, involvement, and prayer.

Psalm 111 Confitebor tibi

Hallelujah! I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart, * in the assembly of the upright, in the congregation.
Great are the deeds of the Lord! * they are studied by all who delight in them.
His work is full of majesty and splendor, * and his righteousness endures for ever.
He makes his marvelous works to be remembered; * the Lord is gracious and full of compassion.
He gives food to those who fear him; * he is ever mindful of his covenant.
He has shown his people the power of his works * in giving them the lands of the nations.
The works of his hands are faithfulness and justice; * all his commandments are sure.
They stand fast for ever and ever, * because they are done in truth and equity.
He sent redemption to his people; he commanded his covenant for ever; * holy and awesome is his Name.
The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom; *those who act accordingly have a good understanding; his praise endures for ever.

Reflection: The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Wisdom is not a function of how I feel or what God has done for me lately. It comes through staying centered in God.

Epistle: 1 Corinthians 8:1-13

Now concerning food sacrificed to idols: we know that "all of us possess knowledge." Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up. Anyone who claims to know something does not yet have the necessary knowledge; but anyone who loves God is known by him.

Hence, as to the eating of food offered to idols, we know that "no idol in the world really exists," and that "there is no God but one." Indeed, even though there may be so-called gods in heaven or on earth-- as in fact there are many gods and many lords-- yet for us there is one God, the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we exist, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and through whom we exist.

It is not everyone, however, who has this knowledge. Since some have become so accustomed to idols until now, they still think of the food they eat as food offered to an idol; and their conscience, being weak, is defiled. "Food will not bring us close to God."

We are no worse off if we do not eat, and no better off if we do. But take care that this liberty of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak. For if others see you, who possess knowledge, eating in the temple of an idol, might they not, since their conscience is weak, be encouraged to the point of eating food sacrificed to idols? So by your knowledge those weak believers for whom Christ died are destroyed. But when you thus sin against members of your family, and wound their conscience when it is weak, you sin against Christ. Therefore, if food is a cause of their falling, I will never eat meat, so that I may not cause one of them to fall.

Reflections: The passage from St. Paul’s letter opens with a rather convoluted distinction between knowledge and love. Knowledge is necessary, and we all have knowledge. But more important for us than knowledge is love. In fact, it is love that gives rise to knowledge—the truest knowledge of all, that is, God’s knowledge of us. And it is this knowledge that matters most.

          We all know that, deep inside (where we don’t let anybody in), we are vulnerable. We attempt to assuage our insecurity by amassing money, love, status, knowledge, or whatever coin appeals to our personality. But beneath the protective veneer, part of us still cowers in the dark. That is, until we are fully known and fully loved by the only one who can know us and love us totally: God.

          It is God’s knowledge of us that makes the difference, not the knowledge (or money, or houses, or . . .) we build up. Being fully known by God frees us from the need to show others that we are successful or beautiful or admired or powerful or intelligent . . . . Being fully embraced by God allows us to care more about others than about ourselves, about their needs more than about our rights.

          How many times have we heard a highly placed person say “I didn’t do anything illegal”? Far from exonerating the speaker, this claim of innocence virtually admits that the person did something morally questionable, at best. Legality is a poor substitute for kindness, good will, compassion—or whatever synonym for love you choose.

Gospel: Mark 1:21-28

Jesus and his disciples went to Capernaum; and when the sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught. They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, and he cried out, "What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God." But Jesus rebuked him, saying, "Be silent, and come out of him!" And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying with a loud voice, came out of him. They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, "What is this? A new teaching—with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him." At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region of Galilee.

Reflections: Jesus’ authority clearly springs from a root different from that which grounds the professional religious leaders of his day. Jesus does not hide behind a facade; his actions and motives are transparent because his whole being is open to the Father. It is in this sort of purity and authenticity that true power lies—even over of evil.