Love, or knowledge?

A few minutes before writing up this blog post, I was on the phone discussing whether women belong behind the pulpit. 

That conversation brought me back to the opening verses of the 8th chapter of the book of 1st Corinthians:

“But knowledge puffs up while love builds up. Those who think they know something do not yet know as they ought to know. But whoever loves God is known by God.”

 (1 Cor 8: 1-3)

Yes! I admit it- I am still deep diving into Pauline epistles. The Lord keeps drawing me back to the importance of wholeness in the body.

I was ready to embark on the debate. I was prepared to draw parallels from the many women of valor chosen to carry the good news. But instead, I paused.

And I became filled with sorrow.

Like Elijah, curled up in the cave, it dawned on me: the people have broken their covenant with God.

What covenant, you may ask?

Those filled with the knowledge of the Cross were supposed to edify the body at large. 

The mandate never changed: “to go share the Gospel in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

What good is a weighty brain if the foot suffers? What sane person studies the anatomy of the body while letting his wounds go untreated?

Likewise, what is the point of studying Christ and choosing silence? How does the revelatory knowledge of who God is stop burning like a fire shut up in our bones?

The answer is simple.

We’ve not only lost awe of God, but have become disconnected from what moves His heart. 

Us.

Many Christians have gotten so accustomed to the spiritual life that it no longer moves us. 

Think about it: do you still carry the same zeal you had when you first accepted Christ as your personal savior?

If I’m honest, though I’m bothered by many unfortunate chains of events within my world and beyond it, I’m not always moved to a point of grief. 

One too many conversations with the same unsaved family member becomes exhausting.

Homeless people walking through the train cars become part of the NYC commute. 

Rising violence and bloodshed amongst the youth are sad headlines, but not enough to keep us awake at night.

We became desensitized. 

Our hearts grew colder while God’s heart beat harder. 

We became selfish. 

Our periphereal vision narrowed while God’s compassion stretched wider.

A butchered body.

Have you ever seen a muscular man with the weakest legs? Their bodies look disproportionate. 

That’s how we walk in the spirit when those impregnated with revelation knowledge of the Word of God stifle the good news. 

Swollen heads. Starved bodies. 

A fractured bride. 

One who wounds herself, leaving open sores that attract the flies of the adversary.

Who is responsible for the mutilation of the body?

The pastors? Apostles? Prophets? Evangelists? Teachers?

Those with large platforms and followings?

Those with impressive lineage?

If they have chosen to remain silent, then, yes.

But also those who grew in the faith enough to grow past the milk into chewing the Word.

Those who come to church every Sunday and fed fresh manna from the pulpit.

That means you.

And me.

And them.

It’s all of us.

We are called to action. The mandate doesn’t change based on the size of your platform or the position of your seat. 

When the spirit of God falls on good ground, the seeds have no choice but to germinate and bear fruit.

So what fruit are you carrying in your bosom?

Love or knowledge?

Are you more interested in being right than living right?  

Is your purpose only to win arguments or to fulfill the oath you made to the Father- the promise to the body:

To protect. To serve. To love one another like Christ loves His bride.

If not, let us purpose in our heart to return while there is still time. 

To go deeper.

To climb higher.

To come back to our first love. 

Let our knowledge of who He is root us more deeply in love.

Post. 

Share. 

Love. 

Show up. 

Repeat.

Until the clarion call. 

With love always,

Telle