A New Kind of Christianity - Brian McLaren [82]
Ironically, then, those with whom Paul agrees in theory are in practice wounding and hurting those with whom Paul disagrees. In response, Paul indulges in rather complex and sometimes scathing wordplay around forms of the word “knowledge”:
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.”…It is not everyone, however, who has this knowledge…. 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. (8:1–11, emphasis mine)
Perhaps evoking the primal story of Adam and Eve, who in a quest for knowledge sinned against God, Paul links knowledge with conceit and destruction. Far better, he says, to be “known by God” as a person of love. Later, when he comes to the issue of spiritual gifts, he picks up the same language again, with some sharp irony: “Now concerning spiritual gifts, brothers and sisters, I do not want you to be uninformed. You know…” (12:1–2). And then he identifies wisdom and knowledge not as attainments, but as gifts of the Spirit (1:7–8), given not for personal or sectarian advantage, but for the “common good.” This Spirit forms everyone into one body (12:12–13) composed of many diverse parts (12:14), each of which both belongs to the others (12: 15–20) and needs the others (12:21–24). God’s goal is that there should be robust diversity without division, where each has equal concern for the others (12:25–26). In this way, Paul says, this community is not only the ecclesia of God (1:2) and the temple of the Holy Spirit (3:16; 6:19), but also the body or embodiment of Christ (12:27). And then, as if to celebrate the power of this insight, he says, “And I will show you a still more excellent way” (12:31).
What is this way? It is not speaking in tongues or using other spiritual gifts (13:1–2). It is not mystery-fathoming knowledge or mountain-moving faith (13:2). It is not even a radical, nonconforming concern for social justice or courageous willingness to undergo martyrdom (13:3). These things, without love, Paul says, are worth nothing. If he were writing today, he might say:
Though I interpret the biblical text with state-of-the-art hermeneutics and preach sermons with flawless homiletics, though all my theologies are systematic, all my books, blogs, and podcasts scrupulously orthodox, and my books always best-sellers, without love I am static on a radio or an error message on a computer screen. Though I can show decadal church growth in the double digits and raise millions of dollars in building funds, though I have files full of testimonials from people saved, healed, delivered, and blessed through my ministry, without love I’m just another clever, two-bit purveyor of goods and services in the religious-industrial complex. Though I have worldwide impact, traveling by private jet and broadcasting on cable, satellite, and the Internet, though my budgets balance and my seminaries are bursting with beautiful and handsome valedictorians (all of whom are above average in every way), and though presidents invite me to the White House and consider me a “key person,” without love I am nothing.
The excellent way—no, the more excellent way—no, better than that, the still