THE ONLY NECESSARY KNOWLEDGE EXPRESSED DAILY IN CHARITY

V/ My eyes are turned to you, O Lord.

R/ You are the joy and gladness of my youth.

V/ Grant me the Wisdom that sits by your throne.

R/ That I may dwell as a child in your presence.

Let us pray. Lord, in your loving design, you have drawn me here to encounter you in your Word and, in you, to find myself. Empower me by your Wisdom, that this meditation may be a font of transformation and freedom, bearing fruit for my salvation and that of the whole Church. Amen

THE ONLY NECESSARY KNOWLEDGE EXPRESSED DAILY IN CHARITY

By Fr Clement Obiorah, OCD

5th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A)

Isaiah 58:7-10; Psalm 111(112):4-9; 1 Corinthians 2:1-5; Matthew 5:13-16

Last Sunday, the Beatitudes painted the portrait of the Christian heart. We looked inward at a landscape of humility and peace. Today, the liturgy shifts our gaze outward. Jesus tells us that this interior transformation has an exterior purpose. We do not light a lamp to hide it.

The theme for this Sunday brings us to the core of our mission: The only necessary knowledge is the knowledge of Jesus crucified, expressed daily in charity.

In our Second Reading, St Paul makes a surprising revelation. He tells the Corinthians he did not come with “sublimity of words or of wisdom.” He shed the pretentiousness of elitism. Paul understood that human philosophy often breeds pride, turning God into a concept to be debated rather than a Person to be loved. Paul determined to know nothing but “Jesus Christ, and him crucified.”

The Carmelite mystics echo this. St John of the Cross warns against seeking hidden knowledge, reminding us that God has spoken everything in Jesus: “Fasten your eyes on him alone because in him I have spoken and revealed all.” St Teresa of Avila fervently opposed the misconception that high spirituality meant leaving Christ’s humanity behind. She taught that we must never withdraw from the Crucified One, for “if we do not strive for the virtues and practice them,” imitating His sacrifice, “we will always be dwarfs.”

If the Cross is the source of our wisdom, Salt and Light are the methods of our witness.

First, “You are the Salt.” Salt works silently; it dissolves to give flavour. Without the “salt” of the Gospel, human existence becomes insipid. We look to St Thérèse of Lisieux, who lived the “Little Way” of not missing “one little sacrifice… profiting by all the smallest things and doing them through love.” Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection also found God amongst his pots and pans, performing actions “carefully and deliberately” for Him. This is how we bring Christ’s flavour to our workplaces: through the salt of integrity.

Second, “You are the Light.” Light cannot be hidden. Isaiah guides us on how to radiate this light: “Share your bread with the hungry… remove from your midst oppression.” Blessed Titus Brandsma shone this light in the darkness of Dachau. Amidst absolute inhumanity, he preached a “universal brotherhood” that included even “those who hate us,” refusing to hide his lamp under a tub of retribution.

The Cost of Comfort This service comes “at the cost of our comfort.” Salt dissolves; a candle consumes itself. Isaiah warns against the “clenched fist”—the symbol of holding tightly to our resources. The knowledge of Christ Crucified opens that fist. St Edith Stein (St Teresa Benedicta of the Cross) understood that we cannot merely admire the Cross; we must be nailed to it in service. She taught that this surrender is what “more delightfully move[s] the Heart of [our] God.”

This is the path to freedom. As St Teresa of Avila reminds us: “The purpose of this spiritual marriage: the birth always of good works, good works.” By the power of the Spirit, may our lives become a living commentary on the Gospel, salty enough to preserve the truth in little things, and bright enough to be a beacon of charity everywhere.