Knowledge Puffs Up, But Love Builds Up

How do we cure an unclean spirit? Hint: not Tide Pods!

I had a great big smile on my face on Thursday afternoon. You see, I finished my last session on the Diocesan Council. Essentially this body functions as the vestry of the diocese. I loved being on it, but unlike our vestry—which is on retreat this weekend—and then only meets for an hour once a month, the Council meets for six hours each month. This doesn’t include the prep time or the drive down to Birmingham or the drive back to Decatur. Council did teach me so much and I am grateful for my time on it. Perhaps the best bit each month was our Bible study.

In this Bible Study we look at the Gospel lesson for the coming Sunday. So on Thursday we looked at this passage from Mark’s Gospel account. I always hear several astute points and it’s great fun reading Scripture with the bishop, clergy, and lay leaders from all over the state. Someone I greatly admire pointed out that this morning’s passage is all about Jesus’ authority and his authentic identity—who he is as the Son of God. “Yes!” I thought, but then the person continued, that it’s best to leave the demon off to the side… Wait, what? How can we ignore this critical part of the story?

What do you think of demons? Do they exist? This is the Episcopal Church. We often hold up the image of a three-legged stool based upon Richard Hooker’s theology. The crucial tenants are Scripture, Tradition, and REASON. REASONable persons cannot believe in demons can they? What are demons anyway? Are they mental illness? That seems too simplistic. Are they creatures with horns and pointy ears? That seems too hokey. So what are they? Some describe them as forces of evil that oppose the will of God. Evil forces that oppose the will of God does not sound all that far-fetched.

If we look more closely at today’s lesson though we do not see any demons, we merely see a man with an unclean spirit. This begs several questions, “What is an unclean spirit?” “Is it like a demon?” “How does one spirit get unclean?” “Or, how might the evil force make someone unclean?” Perhaps more importantly we may wonder if one’s spirit is unclean how does one make it clean again? We cannot drop off our souls at the dry cleaners and return in three days to find it fresh and new. Maybe an unclean spirit is why all these crazy people on YouTube have been eating Tide detergent Pods. All joking aside, how does one clean one’s unclean spirit? This story helps us to understand that it is through Jesus’ authentic authority that this man with the unclean spirit was made well.

Authority can be a tricky thing. Have you ever had a bad boss? Now listen, I have a great boss. If you leave here saying one thing please say (to Evan) Seth says he has a great boss! But, in the past I have had a few tough bosses. Mostly what I notice as I look back at them is that I couldn’t take serious their authority. It felt like it was not real. They might point to the rules or the trappings of the office, but they did not have it within them. This story has some of those types of bosses too.

In the synagogue—the gathered body of the faithful people—there were some scribes who did not live with true authority. They were good folk, but they did not have authority. They pointed to the law, they used an extrinsic force to prove people right or wrong, clean or unclean, but they lacked internal power and did not bring the law to life and fulfillment like Jesus. When the man with the unclean spirit came in their midst they probably pointed out why he was unclean, instead of seeking to find healing for him. Jesus though lived differently.

The difference between the scribes and Jesus was obvious to those in the synagogue. They exclaimed that Jesus taught with authority, but his authority was not simply smoke and mirrors. The section from Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians sums this up well, “Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up.” Jesus could have used knowledge to run circles around others familiar with the Law, and yet he yearned not for winning arguments but for winning hearts. He had compassion on the man who was suffering and through love brought him to healing. This is how the unclean becomes clean through love.

So, do you believe in demons? Do they exist? If they are not creepy characters and are truly forces of evil that oppose the will of God, then I have to tell you they are real! We do not have to look far afield to find them either. Thumbing through the news this week we find evil all over: a gymnastics trainer who abused over 150 girls, terrorist organizations racking up higher and higher death tolls, and environmental degradation leading to catastrophic water shortages just to name three. What are we to do in the face of these evil forces?

While knowledge is crucial for us to bring about positive change in this world, we must not rely upon it alone to oppose the forces of evil. Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up. Instead of trying to win fights by using more knowledge to prove others wrong, when we see those evil forces all around us we are called to fight evil with love. This is the way that we will destroy these forces that oppose God—not by winning enough debates, but by loving those with whom we disagree. Jesus brought healing through his authentic authority as the Son of God. He did this through love. Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up, and for that thanks be to God.

William Temple: "The personality of every man and woman is sacred."

Archbishop William Temple (photo credit: http://satucket.com)

I have a confession to make. For as long as I have been a Christian, I have only been to church on Christmas one time. Whew, do I feel better! The year was 1993 and I wasn’t even ten years old yet. My family had been in London for most of the month of December on what was the best vacation of my childhood. Seeing so much history, culture, and art sparked within me an endearing love for all things English. To make thingseven better for Christmas holiday we traveled down to Canterbury to stay at a little bed and breakfast and to attend Christmas service at Canterbury Cathedral.

When my family walked in for church on Christmas day, I did not know the importance of the Cathedral: it is the center of worship in the Episcopal/Anglican world, it is the seat of the Archbishop of Canterbury, it is a historic site where Thomas Becket was martyred in 1170 and subsequently a place of pilgrimage. I did not realize all this on that Christmas morning. All I knew was that we were going into a very long service on Christmas day that was going to keep me from playing with my new toys. Yet, even as an overly-hyperactive child, I was blown away by what I heard and saw on that holy morning.

According to my mom, who keeps a meticulous journal, the 11:00AM service was a Mozart-Coronation-Mass Eucharist with Archbishop George Carey preaching. The choir was enchanting. The procession and the vestments were exquisite. The congregation was profoundly reverent. Even through the veil of my youthful inattentiveness I could tell that God was present, God had come to be with us.

One thing I do not remember well is the sermon from that day. In my memory I can see Archbishop Carey dressed in elaborate vestments, preaching with humble conviction, but I do not know what he said. Maybe he preached on the shepherds and the angels, or maybe he talked about Mary and Joseph. Probably though, he spoke about the Nativity Event, that is God comes to be with us.

Not too long before Archbishop Carey occupied the bishop’s seat at Canterbury, there was a man who not only talked about this, but also lived out his entire ministry showing to all whom he met that God became incarnate in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. William Temple was the 98th (or 99th depending on what resource one consults) Archbishop of Canterbury, and today, November 6th, we remember him in the Episcopal Church. He served as archbishop in the tumultuous years of the Second World War, but throughout his life he was an inspiration showing that God comes to be with us.

To say that William Temple was a preacher’s kid would be an understatement. His father, Frederick Temple, was a bishop and became the Archbishop of Canterbury when William was 15. Perpetually a believer with very few doubts, though William never had a rebellious stage or conversion experience, but rather he lived out his faith from a very early age. Knowing that God had come to dwell with humanity enlivened his ability to relate to all whom he met. His brilliant mind also enabled him to empathize with those from very different backgrounds than his own. “He wrote that in Jesus Christ God took flesh and dwelt among us, and as a consequence ‘the personality of every man and woman is sacred’” (Holy Women, Holy Men 668). This belief permeated throughout all his interactions enabling him to bring people from different political and ecumenical backgrounds together.

As he rose to prominence in the Church of England, moving into higher positions of leadership it seemed inevitable that he would one day be a bishop. Yet, when he was the rector at St. James’s Picadilly, he retired so that he could focus upon helping the laity to achieve more power within the church. For eight months he worked tirelessly to get an Act of Parliament passed so that church members and not politicians made the big decisions in the church. After it was eventually passed, he went back into the church and soon became bishop.

When he was appointed Archbishop of Canterbury, England was at war with Germany. In a bold act during the summer of 1944 during Operation Overlord, Temple visited the Allied troops fighting in Normandy, being the first Archbishop to “go to battle” since the Middle Ages. He was not one to shy away from getting politically involved and often was able to bring two opposing sides together by summarizing their points better than either side could do on their own. He denounced Nazism as idolatry, but advocated for humane treatment of Germans preaching against vengeance. He was an advocate of negotiated peace, but gained criticism for not condemning carpet bombing in Germany. Archbishop Temple died of complications with gout from which he suffered his entire life, before the conclusion of the war.

In all things Temple was one who lived out of the reality that God came to dwell with humanity. He treated all as if they were Jesus Christ himself. We who celebrate his life today are challenged to do the same. God came to earth and that makes the personality of all sacred. Let us so live that we might see each other as the bearer of Christ’s light in this world.