Grain & Embers 11.17.25

There's a peculiar tension in the Christian life that many of us feel but rarely name. We know things—theological truths, biblical principles, doctrinal positions—and we're proud of what we know. We can debate, defend, and declare our positions with confidence. But somewhere in the midst of all that knowing, we miss something essential. We miss love.

The Corinthian church faced this exact dilemma. They were a congregation bursting with knowledge, armed with slogans like "all of us possess knowledge" and "there is no God but one." They understood monotheism. They grasped that idols were meaningless objects. They had the theology down. Yet Paul, writing to them in 1 Corinthians 8, had to deliver a corrective that cuts through the ages and lands squarely in our laps today: "knowledge puffs up, but love builds up".

The Garden Where Pride Grows

Knowledge without love doesn't just fail to help—it actively harms. It creates the perfect conditions for pride to flourish. Think about it: pride grows in the garden of knowledge. When we become consumed with how much we know, when our identity becomes wrapped up in being right, we've actually revealed that we don't know as much as we think we do.

We've all encountered the know-it-all—the person so consumed with demonstrating their expertise that they can't hold a normal conversation. Perhaps we've even been that person. The academic world, the theological realm, even small group Bible studies can become breeding grounds for this kind of knowledge-driven pride.

But here's the revolutionary truth: knowledge without love indicates a lack of knowledge. If we imagine we know something but lack love in how we express it, we don't yet know as we ought to know.

The Agape Difference

The love Paul contrasts with knowledge isn't ordinary affection. It's *agape*—divine love. This is the kind of love that doesn't wait for reciprocation. It's the "I love you even if you don't love me" love. It's the love that characterized Jesus Christ, who loved us when we were still sinners, when we were His enemies, when we had nothing to offer Him in return.

This is the love we struggle to receive because we live in a transactional world. We earn paychecks, degrees, promotions, even speeding tickets. Everything operates on a system of merit and exchange. So when God offers us unearned, unmerited, unconditional love, we don't know what to do with it.

If you've ever felt that you need to earn God's love, that you must prove yourself worthy of His attention, you're operating under a paradigm that contradicts Scripture. God loves you in the condition you're in today—not the 2.0 version of yourself you're working toward. His love is a gift to receive, not a wage to earn.

The Idols We Don't See

The Corinthian discussion about food offered to idols might seem irrelevant to us. We don't typically worry about whether our steak was previously sacrificed in a pagan temple. But the principle runs deeper than ancient religious practices.

Remember the golden calf in Exodus 32? When Moses delayed coming down from Mount Sinai, the people couldn't wait. They took matters into their own hands and fashioned an idol to worship. What does this reveal about human nature? When God delays long enough, we take matters into our own hands.

The idols we fashion today aren't made of gold or wood—they're idols of the heart. They're the things we give our focus and attention to when we grow impatient with God's timing:

- Approval and acceptance: The desperate need to be liked, manipulating relationships and circumstances to feel secure in others' opinions
- Control and power: The drive to manage every situation because we've been hurt by chaos before
- Comfort and ease: Prioritizing a pain-free, predictable life over growth, challenge, and obedience
- Security: Placing ultimate trust in finances, careers, or relationships rather than in God
- Significance and self-worth: Seeking identity in accomplishments, appearance, or status instead of in Christ

These idols are deceptive precisely because they don't look like idols. They masquerade as reasonable goals, legitimate needs, or even wisdom. But when they take our focus off God, when they become the source we look to for what only God can provide, they function as idols.

The Spiritual Reality Behind the Symbols

Scripture reveals something unsettling: behind the physical idols of the ancient world stood actual spiritual entities—demons masquerading as gods. Deuteronomy 32:17 states plainly, "They sacrificed to demons that were no gods." Psalm 82 speaks of God standing in the divine council among these lesser spiritual beings.

Paul wasn't merely addressing inanimate objects when he discussed idols. He understood that these represented low-ranking spiritual entities competing for the glory that belongs to God alone. As 2 Corinthians 11:14 warns, "Even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light."

This truth has profound implications. Every religious system, every ideology, every philosophy that draws worship and allegiance away from the one true God is ultimately demonic in origin. That's a bold statement, but it's the clear teaching of Scripture. There is one path to reconciliation with God the Father: faith in Jesus Christ.

Rights Versus Responsibilities

Paul's conclusion brings everything together brilliantly. Yes, Christians in Corinth had the right to eat food that had been offered to idols—after all, idols are nothing. But Paul introduces a higher principle: "What if your right becomes a stumbling block to someone else's faith?"

This is where love transforms knowledge into wisdom. Paul declares, "Therefore, if food makes my brother stumble, I will never eat meat, lest I make my brother stumble." That's remarkable commitment. He's willing to permanently alter his behavior out of love for a weaker brother.

The principle applies broadly. You might have freedom in Christ to enjoy a particular food, beverage, entertainment, or activity. But if exercising that freedom would compromise someone else's faith, love calls you to lay down your right.

Jesus modeled this perfectly. He had the right to call down angels and escape the cross. Instead, He embraced His responsibility to fulfill the Father's will and die for humanity's sins. He chose love over rights, sacrifice over self-preservation.

Building Up Rather Than Puffing Up

The challenge for mature believers is clear: use your knowledge not to win arguments or prove yourself right, but to serve others and build them up in faith. Don't stand on the hill of your rights when you could be kneeling in service to your brother or sister.

When you're tempted to say, "But I have the right to do this," remember that your enthusiasm to die on that hill may reveal that your knowledge lacks the full dimension of divine love.

The fruit of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control—should characterize how we exercise our knowledge and freedom. If our "rightness" produces pride, division, or stumbling, we've missed the point entirely.

Living as Discerning Christians

As you move through this week, remember that many challenges you face are spiritually influenced. The enemy masquerades, dressing up lies to look like truth. But you can discern spiritual attack by the fruit it produces. Does it lead to the fruits of the Spirit or their opposites?

Focus your attention on the one true God. Let His agape love fill you, and then extend that same sacrificial love to those around you. Choose to build up rather than puff up. Choose responsibility over rights. Choose love over being correct.

In a world full of competing voices and false gods, let your life demonstrate that you know the one true God—not just intellectually, but in the transformative power of His love.

stay salty. be bright.