Today's reflection is by Kari Jo Verhulst, Lutheran Chaplain at MIT and Pastor at University Lutheran Church
One of the humbling joys of being a chaplain at MIT is navigating the
literal and metaphorical passageways of the place; the hidden tunnels
beneath the Infinite Corridor, and conversations where classes and
courses are numbered instead of named. (E.g., “What are you studying?”
“I’m Course 6.”)
Insider knowledge is useful, and every subculture has it. It helps
conversation move swiftly to a satisfyingly deep level of discovery,
without having to pause to define terms along the way. That ready
understanding is what’s so delightful about studying something you adore
with others who share your passion. But it can also “puff us up” so we
confuse knowledge with worthiness, including our own.
This is what was happening in the little Corinthian community Paul
addresses in his letter. Barely born, this church has already broken
into factions, and those who are newest to the group are being sidelined
by those who “know” more. Paul leans toward the weak, and turns the
community’s value system on its head: love, not knowledge, is what
matters most. This theme comes to its stirring climax in the love song
of chapter 13, which lays bare the pointlessness of all knowledge,
skill, and power in the absence of love. For it is the love of the God
who knows us better than we know ourselves that liberates us from the
need to prove ourselves worthy, and which returns us to our rightful
place in the universe—as one beloved sinner/saint among many.
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