The more I know, the more I know I know nothing.

The deeper I go into theology, into Scripture, into the spiritual life, the more I realize that when it comes to divine wisdom, this is true… the more I know, the more I know I do not know… and I am coming to realize that this is the point.

Human wisdom seeks to know in order to understand, and if I understand, I can take control. This is part of what lies behind the story of Adam and Eve and their desire to eat from the tree of knowledge. God gave them knowledge over the created world, but told them not to eat from the tree that contained a different kind of wisdom. Yet, they went for it. They wanted to be like God, not by receiving from him, but by grasping it for themselves.

But unlike human knowledge, the wisdom of God cannot be grasped. It cannot be controlled. It can only be received. And this is what makes the life of faith, rooted in Scripture and Tradition, so different. Yes, it is important to know our faith, but not so that we can control God, or use faith for our own purposes. Rather, we come to know in order to trust more deeply, and to love more fully what God is accomplishing in us.

That is what makes the Christian faith so different from other philosophies. It is not a faith that seeks to master yourself, to become your own savior, to control your own emotions, to meditate desire away, or to know the self to the point where you control your own destiny. The Christian life is not about creating your own holiness, as if human perfection could be reached on our own.

As I mentioned last time, God is not demanding from us a life of perfection. God is inviting us into a life of being transformed by his power, by his grace.

Grace is given to us through what we call the sacraments. The Latin word sacrament itself is not found in the Bible. It is a Latin word that means a sacred instrument, a means through which grace is given. But its Greek equivalent, which is found in the Bible, is the word mysterion, mystery. St. Paul uses this word to describe how God’s invisible power is made known and active in the world.

What grace does is lead us toward unity. In the Letter to the Ephesians, Paul says that God has made known to us the mystery of his will, his plan for the fullness of time, to sum up all things in Christ, to unify all things in Christ.

This unitive vision is at the heart of Jesus’ teaching in the Sermon on the Mount. Last week we heard the Beatitudes. Today, Jesus shows us what a community living the Beatitudes looks like. He describes his disciples as the salt of the earth and the light of the world.

In Jesus’ time, the most important use of salt was not for seasoning, but for preservation. Salt was the primary preservative for food in a time before refrigeration. Salt helped protect newborn babies from disease, it was rubbed on them to strengthen their skin. Kings would exchange salt as a sign of preserving covenant alliances between kingdoms. So when Jesus says that the Church is to be the salt of the earth, he is saying that the Church exists to preserve the wisdom of God and humanity’s awareness of its dependence on God. Wisdom is given to us for the sake of uniting us. Otherwise, grasping it would only make us want to control it and divide us even further. This happens when people use Scripture as a weapon to exclude and discriminate.

Jesus follows this by saying that we are the light of the world. This is accountability, it keeps us honest. He means that we are called to show the world that unity within the human family is actually possible. If I am preserving God’s wisdom, not controlling it, then my life will clearly reflect it. In Genesis, light was the first thing God created. Jesus is saying that his community is meant to be the beginning of a new creation in human history.

The mystery of God reaches its fullness on the Cross. Paul says, “I resolved to know nothing except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.” The crucifixion is the moment in which we see both the division between humanity and God, and at the same time, the possibility of reconciliation.

The Cross brings an end to a religion based on fear. To human wisdom, the Cross is nothing more than another human sacrifice offered to the gods out of fear. But in the wisdom of God, the Cross is God offering himself to humanity out of love. This is the mystery of the Cross, which means the Cross is a sacrament, an instrument of God’s grace, uniting us. From the Cross flow the seven sacraments that now transform us.

On the Cross, we see Jesus die and rise. In Baptism, we die to the old self and rise to new life.

On the Cross, we see the Lamb of God offered for us. In the Eucharist, we receive the Lamb of God as our source of ongoing transformation.

On the Cross, we hear Jesus say, “Father, forgive them.” In Confession, we receive that same mercy and are transformed from slavery to freedom.

On the Cross, Jesus breathes his last. In Confirmation, that divine breath, the Holy Spirit, is given to us to strengthen us and make us instruments of transformation for others.

On the Cross, Jesus suffers in his body. In the Anointing of the Sick, our suffering is united to his and becomes a place of grace.

On the Cross, Jesus loves faithfully to the end. In Matrimony, spouses receive the grace to love with that same faithful, sacrificial love.

On the Cross, Jesus offers himself to make God present to the world. In Holy Orders, priests are given the grace to continue making Christ present through the sacraments.

The Christian faith does not make sense without the mystery of the Cross. The Christian faith is not complete without the sacraments that flow from it. The Cross reveals our need for healing, but it also reveals God’s answer.

Jesus opens a new way, the sacramental way, the way of union with God and unity with one another. But the sacraments are not the end. They are the means. To be salt is to receive the sacraments. To be light is to allow them to change us, so as to reflect the mystery of God.

This brings us back to where we began. The more I know, the more I know I know nothing. The deeper we enter into the mystery of God, the more we realize that transformation does not come from our own strength, our own wisdom, or our own control. It comes from receiving what God gives.

Like Adam and Eve, we are tempted to grasp. But like Christ, we are called to receive. This is why Paul says, “I resolved to know nothing except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.” Because on the Cross, Christ does not grasp at power. He receives everything from the Father, and gives everything in return.

And so, family, let us resolve to know nothing except Jesus Christ, crucified and risen. Let us not try to grasp control of our own transformation, but receive the grace God gives us through the sacraments. We are Christians, living the sacramental life, living in the ungraspable mystery of God.