"It is here, my daughters, that love is to be found - not hidden away in corners but in the midst of occasions of sin. And believe me, although we may more often fail and commit small lapses, our gain will be incomparably the greater."
Saint Teresa of Avila
Texts:
23 "All things are lawful," but not all things are beneficial. "All things are lawful," but not all things build up. 24 Do not seek your own advantage, but that of the other. 25 Eat whatever is sold in the meat market without raising any question on the ground of conscience, 26 for "the earth and its fullness are the Lord's." 27 If an unbeliever invites you to a meal and you are disposed to go, eat whatever is set before you without raising any question on the ground of conscience. 28 But if someone says to you, "This has been offered in sacrifice," then do not eat it, out of consideration for the one who informed you, and for the sake of conscience-- 29 I mean the other's conscience, not your own. For why should my liberty be subject to the judgment of someone else's conscience? 30 If I partake with thankfulness, why should I be denounced because of that for which I give thanks? 31 So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God. 32 Give no offense to Jews or to Greeks or to the church of God, 33 just as I try to please everyone in everything I do, not seeking my own advantage, but that of many, so that they may be saved.
(1 Corinthians 11) Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.
It's funny, some of Paul's best writing happens couched in really random conversations. He preaches in spite of himself. As he is exhorting the community at Corinth, who have devised all manner of practice to create divisions within their community, dividing between those who are married and those who are not, between those who eat all manner of foods and those who do not, between those who are rich and those who are not, we find some great lines. Granted, the Bible was written at a particular time and place for a particular people within time and space. This awareness, however, should not preclude us from allowing the text to continue speaking to us, to engage it with the imagination, hope, and belief that God will continue working through the text - however archaic, however difficult to understand, regardless of whether it offends our sensibilities or not. It is when we allow the definitions of the Bible to become hard-and-fast, it is when we allow another's voice to overshadow our own, we forget that God continues speaking to us.
"16 The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a sharing in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a sharing in the body of Christ? 17 Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread."
All who come to the altar, hungry, this meal is for you. All who come to the altar, thirsty, this meal is for you. All who come to the altar, empty, this meal is for you. All who come to the altar, hoping the forgiveness is real, this meal is for you. All who come to the altar, unworthily, this meal is for you. Christ has woven us together, giving us each a particular hunger, a particular desire, a particular passion; in this meal, Christ weaves us together, carrying out to the world the body and blood that transcends the divisions we create. This meal gives us the courage to spring forward, if only for one moment, if only for the moment the meal transcends time and space, in which the divine draws so near that wholeness drowns the voices that tell us we can never be enough, do enough, or give enough.
The Law of self (and our propensity to get in the way of receiving free grace) and the Law of self-righteousness (that tells us we must do something to earn this gift) are left - if only for a moment - at the altar of Grace. It is at this moment we understand what it is to be free as our soul sings the hymn of the stars at the dawn of creation, the song of Moses and Miriam as they escaped Egypt, the song of Sarah when she sang Isaac to sleep, the song of Rachel on her wedding night, the song of Hannah, and the song of Mary, proclaiming that God has come into the world and turned everything on its head.
We preach from the middle places, from the places that are between the rocks and hard spots of life. We preach out of our brokenness. We preach out of our sin. We preach despite ourselves, the words of hope and faith spoken through clenched teeth as we realize the words, even as they tumble out of our mouths, are for us. The Spirit takes hold of us and, despite all our protest, draws out our innermost selves, places us at the altar, and says, "This meal is for you." "I'm not hungry," we say, starting to cry, trying to refuse our stomach gnawing at our insides. And we eat, still in tears, because we realize - for the first time - the Voice telling us we are beautiful, that we are loved, that we are chosen, is Real.
It only lasts for a moment, but the song remains in the background, reminding us that there is a reality in which the poor are lifted out of the dust and made to sit with the mighty. This is the reality which we proclaim, for which we hunger, and in which we believe.
Saint Teresa of Avila
Texts:
Psalm 6
2 Kings 7:3-10
1 Corinthians 10:14—11:1
14 Therefore, my dear friends, flee from the worship of idols. 15 I speak as to sensible people; judge for yourselves what I say. 16 The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a sharing in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a sharing in the body of Christ? 17 Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread. 18 Consider the people of Israel; are not those who eat the sacrifices partners in the altar? 19 What do I imply then? That food sacrificed to idols is anything, or that an idol is anything? 20 No, I imply that what pagans sacrifice, they sacrifice to demons and not to God. I do not want you to be partners with demons. 21 You cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons. You cannot partake of the table of the Lord and the table of demons. 22 Or are we provoking the Lord to jealousy? Are we stronger than he?
23 "All things are lawful," but not all things are beneficial. "All things are lawful," but not all things build up. 24 Do not seek your own advantage, but that of the other. 25 Eat whatever is sold in the meat market without raising any question on the ground of conscience, 26 for "the earth and its fullness are the Lord's." 27 If an unbeliever invites you to a meal and you are disposed to go, eat whatever is set before you without raising any question on the ground of conscience. 28 But if someone says to you, "This has been offered in sacrifice," then do not eat it, out of consideration for the one who informed you, and for the sake of conscience-- 29 I mean the other's conscience, not your own. For why should my liberty be subject to the judgment of someone else's conscience? 30 If I partake with thankfulness, why should I be denounced because of that for which I give thanks? 31 So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God. 32 Give no offense to Jews or to Greeks or to the church of God, 33 just as I try to please everyone in everything I do, not seeking my own advantage, but that of many, so that they may be saved.
(1 Corinthians 11) Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.
It's funny, some of Paul's best writing happens couched in really random conversations. He preaches in spite of himself. As he is exhorting the community at Corinth, who have devised all manner of practice to create divisions within their community, dividing between those who are married and those who are not, between those who eat all manner of foods and those who do not, between those who are rich and those who are not, we find some great lines. Granted, the Bible was written at a particular time and place for a particular people within time and space. This awareness, however, should not preclude us from allowing the text to continue speaking to us, to engage it with the imagination, hope, and belief that God will continue working through the text - however archaic, however difficult to understand, regardless of whether it offends our sensibilities or not. It is when we allow the definitions of the Bible to become hard-and-fast, it is when we allow another's voice to overshadow our own, we forget that God continues speaking to us.
"16 The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a sharing in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a sharing in the body of Christ? 17 Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread."
All who come to the altar, hungry, this meal is for you. All who come to the altar, thirsty, this meal is for you. All who come to the altar, empty, this meal is for you. All who come to the altar, hoping the forgiveness is real, this meal is for you. All who come to the altar, unworthily, this meal is for you. Christ has woven us together, giving us each a particular hunger, a particular desire, a particular passion; in this meal, Christ weaves us together, carrying out to the world the body and blood that transcends the divisions we create. This meal gives us the courage to spring forward, if only for one moment, if only for the moment the meal transcends time and space, in which the divine draws so near that wholeness drowns the voices that tell us we can never be enough, do enough, or give enough.
The Law of self (and our propensity to get in the way of receiving free grace) and the Law of self-righteousness (that tells us we must do something to earn this gift) are left - if only for a moment - at the altar of Grace. It is at this moment we understand what it is to be free as our soul sings the hymn of the stars at the dawn of creation, the song of Moses and Miriam as they escaped Egypt, the song of Sarah when she sang Isaac to sleep, the song of Rachel on her wedding night, the song of Hannah, and the song of Mary, proclaiming that God has come into the world and turned everything on its head.
We preach from the middle places, from the places that are between the rocks and hard spots of life. We preach out of our brokenness. We preach out of our sin. We preach despite ourselves, the words of hope and faith spoken through clenched teeth as we realize the words, even as they tumble out of our mouths, are for us. The Spirit takes hold of us and, despite all our protest, draws out our innermost selves, places us at the altar, and says, "This meal is for you." "I'm not hungry," we say, starting to cry, trying to refuse our stomach gnawing at our insides. And we eat, still in tears, because we realize - for the first time - the Voice telling us we are beautiful, that we are loved, that we are chosen, is Real.
It only lasts for a moment, but the song remains in the background, reminding us that there is a reality in which the poor are lifted out of the dust and made to sit with the mighty. This is the reality which we proclaim, for which we hunger, and in which we believe.
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