Why Should my Freedom be Judged by Another’s Consciousness?

Divisive issues? Questions about eating meat tore apart the parish in Corinth!


If a nonbeliever invites you and you wish to go, eat everything placed before you…. For why should my freedom be judged by another’s consciousness? If, as of course I do, I partake with gratitude, why am I reviled because of what I give thanks for? (1 Cor. 10:27, 29-30)

There are two inscriptions from the time of Augustus which tell us that the market at Corinth was built by the city’s elite as a gift to the people. After major sports or civic events, meat was often sold in the market at cheaper prices than usual, making it available for the poorer people. (The meat came from sacrifices offered in the temples as part of the civic or sports event.) Many of the members of the Christian parish in Corinth had limited incomes and would have wanted to purchase this meat at the reduced rate.

The Christians did not live in a Christian neighborhood or ghetto. They lived all over the city and were friends with–or had social connections with–people who were not Christians. It must have been common that Christians would be invited to dinner at non-Christian homes. (The unbelievers might even be family members or in-laws of the Christians.) The members of the parish that had more income would also be invited to fancy dinners and events.

The advice of the apostle Paul in both situations is the same: eat whatever. Eat what you can purchase in the market. Eat what people serve you; if you are invited to dinner, follow the normal rules of good manners and eat what the host serves.

What St. Paul actually writes is, “If I partake with charis … why am I reviled/denounced for what I give thanks for?” Charis in other passages is often translated “grace” or even “beauty.” So we might read this passage as saying, “If I partake with grace…” or “If I behave beautifully and eat what I am served….” The rest of the sentence might then be translated, “Why am I criticized so loudly for behaving with good manners, as long as I have thanked God for what I eat?”

Some people in Corinth thought it was wrong to eat this meat. Should their scruples impact everyone else’s behavior? The question of how much someone else’s consciousness/awareness should impact my behavior is an important one. If someone else’s conscience insists that people of a certain race are not human in the same way as others, am I obligated to curtail my behavior because of this mistaken idea? There are some cases when the Gospel obliges us to act on the basis of our own consciousness and not let the mistaken scruples of others hold us back. There are other cases when the stakes are not so high and we might be able to take other people’s consciousness into account and modify our behavior so as to not offend others. One ancient author said,

The conscience that St. Paul refers to is not the conscience of the one who knows idols do not exist but the conscience of one who still thinks the gods depicted in the idols are real.

Severian of Gabala (a popular preacher in Constantinople, AD 398-404)

The importance of having an informed, educated conscience is paramount. We must be reading the Gospel and the Church fathers-mothers to have “the mind of Christ” shaped in our own minds as well. Ignorance is not bliss; ignorant consciences are in for a rude awakening on Judgement Day.

The Cup of Blessing That We Bless

Judge what I say. The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not communion in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not communion in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread we, the many, are one body, for we all share in one and the same bread. (1 Cor. 10:15-17)

Because the parish in Corinth–wealthy members, poor members, Gentile Christians, Jewish Christians, the “weak”, the “strong”–all partake of the one bread and the one cup at the Eucharist, they are one body. One fellowship. One community united in faith against the temptations and allurement of the fallen world. Although many, they are one–manifesting and revealing the Kingdom of God to all those willing to look and see.

That chalice, or rather, what the chalice holds, consecrated by the word of God, is the blood of Christ. Through these elements the Lord wished to entrust to us his body and the blood which he poured out for the remission of sins. If you have received worthily, you are what you have received.

St, Augustine of Hippo, Easter Sermon

St. Augustine reminds his congregation of what St. Paul told the Corinthians: they must partake of the bread and cup worthily. If they do not partake in a worthy manner, the Holy Gifts will destroy them rather than enliven them.

But St. Paul didn’t say the Corinthians had to be pure or sinless. He said they had to be worthy. Worthiness is a very different thing. To be worthy to touch, to be worthy to consume the Body of Christ does not mean to be sinless. As several English theologians in the 1600s and 1700s pointed out, to be worthy is to be committed to self-examination, committed to repentance, committed to always turning around, changing direction, re-orienting myself towards Christ. So I must always prepare to approach the Table by examining myself, reviewing what I have done and who I have been during the time since I last approached the Holy Table. Examine myself, measure myself against our standard—which is Christ—and determine how I might, in perhaps some single small way, turn my back on that person that I do not want to be and take some small step closer to being the person I was made to be in Christ.

To be worthy of receiving Holy Communion, to dare to touch the Corpus Christi, I must be committed to self-examination and repentance. One of those English theologians, Simon Patrick[1] in 1660, suggested using a phrase from the Gospel that Greek and Russian Christians use as they approach the chalice: “Lord, remember me when you come in your kingdom.” The thief crucified with Christ acknowledged Jesus as Lord and reoriented his life—turning his back on his image of himself as a victim who was owed whatever he could take from other people—and he asked Jesus to make a place for him in the Kingdom. What was Jesus’ answer? “Today, you will be with me in paradise.” If we approach the chalice with the self-examination, the reorientation of our lives, the words of the thief—Remember me in your kingdom—Christ makes the same promise to us: Today you will be with me in paradise. Today you will begin to live forever.


[1] Bishop of Ely, Mensa Mystica, or a Discourse concerning the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper. (Prayer Book Spirituality, p. 283)

…And the Rock was Christ

A wall painting in the mid-3rd century Dura Europos synagogue (Syria) depicts Moses striking the rock which then provides water for the 12 tribes of Israel in the wilderness after the Exodus from Egypt. The rock followed the Israelites throughout the 40 years they spent in the wilderness, providing the water they needed until they entered the Promised Land.


All our ancestors were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea and all ate the same spiritual food and all drank the same spiritual drink; for they drank of the spiritual rock, which was following them, and the rock was Christ. (1 Cor. 10:1-4)

The story of Moses striking the rock and producing water for the thirsty Israelites in the wilderness is told twice in the Old Testament–perhaps the same event is reported twice? Or some suggest that the first (temporary) provision of water was supplemented by a second (more permanent) provision of water.

The first version of the story is in Exodus 17. The people complain to Moses that there is no food in the wilderness; God then provides manna and quail to the people on a daily basis. The people then complain that there is no water to drink and accuse Moses of leading them out into the wilderness to die of thirst. God instructs Moses to strike a rock with the staff he used in his combat with Pharoah in Egypt and water gushes out of the rock.

The second version of the story is in Numbers 20. In this version, the people have refused to enter the Promised Land because they do not believe that God will give them the military victory over the current inhabitants, so God promises that none of the Israelites then alive will ever enter the Promised Land; only their children will enter. After the people turn back into the wilderness, Moses’ sister Miriam dies and the people complain again that there is no food or water. (Some early commentators suggest that their hunger and thirst are directly a result of their mourning for Miriam.) So Moses strikes a rock and water gushes out; this is, presumably, the rock that then follows the Israelites throughout the rest of their wanderings in the wilderness.

St. Paul understands the rock that followed the Israelites –which provided enough water every day for several thousand people and animals — to be Christ himself. The food and water and the rock in the wilderness are “types” of Christ; they foreshadow and are dress rehearsals for the gifts that Christ will give in the New Testament and in the Church. Just as the Lord made the world out of the water in Genesis 1 and refashioned the world during the Flood, he now gives enough water in the wilderness to sustain the people, even though they “grumble” and “murmur” against him.

Early Christian preachers warned their congregations not to grumble or murmur against the Lord who feeds them at the altar with the Body and Blood of Christ. Grumbling and murmuring are persistent human foibles–we keep complaining about people who don’t think as highly of us as they should, about situations in which we are treated unfairly, about leaders and bosses who don’t appreciate what we have to offer. How best to combat these temptations to grumble and mutter and complain? Instead of grumbling, these early preachers suggest that we give thanks for the opportunities that we have been given. Focus on how the glass is half-full rather than how it is half-empty.

Our families and friends get tired of hearing us complain about something all the time. Grumbling leads only to more grumbling, these preachers say; giving thanks results in more thanksgiving!

But grumbling so much easier, most of the time! In order to give thanks, we have to look at ourselves and figure out what we can do to improve the situation. That takes energy. That takes work. And then we have to actually do whatever it is that might improve our situation. So much easier to just grumble and expect someone else–like Moses?–to fix whatever is wrong. But that doesn’t get us any closer to where we want to be, does it?