Wrecked by Mercy

1 Corinthians 11:23–29

Phrases that spoke to me today:
• This is my body, which is for you.
• This cup is the new covenant in my blood.
• let a person examine himself
• For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes

Applying the Word to My Life:
Paul's instruction in today's reading is one of the more sobering passages in the New Testament. He says to examine yourself before receiving — to not eat the bread or drink the cup in an unworthy manner. And most of us, when we read that, hear the same question: am I good enough?

Matthew West recently released a song called "Good" that cuts straight to the heart of why that question leads us in the wrong direction. West says he spent a long time treating grace like a ladder — if he just did enough good things, he would eventually be worthy of God's love. The song came out of finally understanding that this is not how grace works. The line that carries the whole thing: I'm not loved because I'm worthy. I'm loved because You're good.

That is the flip. And it changes everything.

Paul is not asking whether we have earned our place at the table. He is asking whether we recognize what is on it. Those are entirely different questions, and confusing them has sent a lot of people away from the table who had every reason to be there.

Worthiness, properly understood, is not a ladder we climb. It is an orientation we bring. The question is not whether we are loved — we are, already, completely, before we did anything to deserve it. The question is whether we are willing to accept it. Whether we can sit down at a table that was prepared for us before we were capable of earning it and receive what is being offered without flinching.

That is actually the harder ask. It is easier, in some ways, to keep climbing — because climbing puts us in control. Accepting means admitting we cannot get there on our own, and that the gap between where we are and where God is can only be crossed from his side. West calls the moment he understood this being wrecked by mercy. That is exactly what it feels like.

We are not saved out of our own righteousness. We are saved because God is good.

The second thing Paul is pointing toward is just as important: the need to keep coming back. As often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes. Not once. Not when you feel ready. As often as.

If accepting God's love actually changes who we are — and it does — then that change is not a one-time event. It is an ongoing process that requires ongoing nourishment. We cannot sustain a transformed life on our own. We are not designed to. The love that saves us is also the love that sustains us, and we need it constantly — in prayer, in Scripture, in community, and most especially in the Eucharist.

Think about physical nourishment for a moment. We do not eat once and consider ourselves fed for life. We return to the table because the body needs to be sustained. The spiritual life works the same way. The encounter with Christ that begins our transformation is not a tank we fill once and run on indefinitely. We need to come back. We need to be fed.

The new covenant, sealed in Christ's blood, means many things for us. This includes two promises and one response.

The first promise is that we are loved — always, completely, by a Father who made us and has not stopped loving us. The second is that we are never alone — that the Father who loves us is present, here, sustaining us, walking with us through whatever is ahead.

Our part is not to become good enough to deserve either promise. Our part is to accept them — to feed from that nourishment, and to follow God as best we can from where we are.

That is the worthiness Paul is asking about. Not have you earned this — but are you willing to receive it?

The table has been set. The invitation has been extended. The only question is whether we will sit down.

My Response for Today:
Today I will identify one way I am still trying to climb the ladder to earn God's love — and put it down.