1 Corinthians 1:26-31; February 1, 2026; Fourth Sunday after Epiphany
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“Consider your own call, brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to abolish things that are, so that no one might boast in the presence of God. In contrast, God is why you are in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification and redemption, in order that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.”
- 1 Corinthians 1:26-31
God chose what is low and despised to abolish the things that are “high” “noble” and “powerful.” Things like, executive exorbitance, overreaching governance, and the glass ceilings of social classism, God sought to abolish these things so that those who are made low by them might be made high in Heaven; so that those who are despised down here, might at least be afforded respect up there.
For recall, Christ himself sacrificed His seat in the cosmos for a lowly manger; so that in this world and through this flesh, we might know Him and He might know us.
And among us, He chose simple fishermen to be His friends and disciples, and said things to them like:
“Blessed are the poor; the meek; and those who mourn; those who are peacemakers, who thirst for truth, and who search for righteousness…”
- paraphrase of Matthew 5
But more than that, Paul tells us today that God chose all this so to bring shame upon those who use their might and privilege to keep things as they are. To keep the low, low; to keep the meek, meek; to keep the poor, poor; slandering peacemakers as adversaries; and truth-tellers as phonies.
According to Paul, there is Divine shame reserved for those who do such things. Who lie and bring division, who execute injustice, who subjugate and keep their knees on the necks of others.
For Christ to Paul was synonymous with righteousness. And Christ to us should be synonymous with promise. Because Christ in all times is synonymous with the Gospel and the good news of deliverance.
Amen?
For we are all one in Christ Jesus, and together, we have all been set free to live freely in and by his grace.
So, let none of us boast, Paul says! Let none of us pretend that we are any better, master, or preferred because of our title, our race, our birthplace.
Rather, let us see each other as global brothers and sisters redeemed by His love.
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Born on a farm in 1925, in Savannah Georgia, Flannery O’Connor, wrote 2 novels and 31 short stories before dying at the tender age of 39.
In retrospect, I would call her a complicated person living in complicated times. Not a saint, but a strong voice in a region (the south) when strong voices were needed to give birth to change; in which she herself was changing, likely battling her own racist demons.
Known for her dark humor, and vivid profundity, she is considered a giant in the world of American fiction.
One of my favorite writings appears in this complete series of her work [that I’m holding in my hand]; in a short story tucked near the back called “Revelation.”
It’s about an icy sort of woman, named Ruby Turpin, who looks down on everyone around her. White, black, handsome or ugly, she doesn’t care. She has disdain for all.
And despite such disdain, she ironically, frustratingly, identifies herself as a good Christian woman, who, “Jesus is satisfied with.”
In three distinct prayers, she gives thanks to Jesus, O’Connor writing that, “Ruby’s heart rose; for Jesus had not made her a N-word, or white trash, or ugly. No, He had made her herself…” “Jesus, thank you,” Ruby would say, “thank you, thank you, thank you!”
The lack of self-awareness and cognitive dissonance is astounding and appalling, isn’t it?
Perhaps because it hits too close to home. Where, seemingly, those who wear the most prominent crosses today, or flash them most brightly in their socials, are yet sometimes the most judgmental, ugly sort of Christians we’ll ever meet.
Anyway, the most famous encounter in the story happens when Ruby Turpin enters the doctor’s waiting room and proceeds to start judging everyone else around her: their shoe choices; the way they dress; the color and complexion of their skin.
A college student by the name of Mary Grace (…), who is reading a book called Human Development (…), particularly draws Ruby’s ire, as she considers this young woman both fat and ugly, and too pimply, to look at.
Well, after a while this young student, ascertaining what Ruby thinks of her, and of everyone else, simply can’t take it anymore and throws her textbook right into Ruby’s face, screaming, “Go back to hell, where you came from, you old wart hog.”
Dark humor and vivid profundity, indeed!
And, this leads to a brief moment of self-reflection for Ruby, where O’Connor makes you think that she could actually turn the page, repent for her vanity, and embrace some humility.
But, nah, she doesn’t. Because, she won’t.
Instead, Ruby asks, “why me? There’s no trash around here, black or white, that I haven’t given to… that I haven’t done right by the church.”
Sheesh. Or better yet, shame. Divine shame.
Unwilling to get it, not wanting to be changed or moved, God, intervenes and sends Ruby a vision, a revelation, where a ramp appears before her leading all sorts and classes of people to Heaven.
But on this ramp Ruby isn’t the first in line. She isn’t second either. Rather, she sees herself behind the blacks, behind the white trash, behind everyone she despised and considered lowly in the waiting room of life. And, she sees herself ascending that ramp dead last.
And as she stares in disbelief, O’Connor writes that Ruby was surrounded by the voices of the world, the diversity and complexity of all creation, singing and shouting “hallelujah!” who were together marching in the light of God.
Now, some scholars think that Ruby Turpin was actually O’Connor writing as herself. And that this short story, written near the end of her life, functioned as a sort of memoir. A confession. A revelation. Where God’s truth pierced her heart and finally made her realize she was no better than anyone else. Neither master, nor preferred. For we are all one in Christ Jesus, and together, we have all been set free to live freely in and by his grace.
My friends, let us today not be like Ruby Turpin. Let us not bring shame upon ourselves, this faith, or Christ’s name.
Let us not boast of and about ourselves!
Rather, may we instead learn to give thanks (hallelujah!) that God’s plan chose what is low to abolish the things that are supposedly “high,” so that all of us together might be redeemed as one people. As one nation. As joint heirs and citizens of a better, more just, universal, Kingdom.
Amen.
