On the basis of the Greek text, Paul’s words can be understood in two ways: either a person confident in his knowledge does not really know anything, or all the knowledge of such an expert, whatever and however much he may know, is worth nothing compared with the true knowledge of which he has no idea. In essence, here the apostle returns again to the theme of poverty that he has already touched on more than once in his letter to the Christians of Corinth. He also returns to the theme of “foolishness for Christ’s sake,” or, more precisely, to what this world considers foolishness when it looks at Christians and their life. For the poverty of which Paul speaks after Jesus Himself, and of which one of Israel’s great prophets, Isaiah of Jerusalem, had spoken centuries before Christ came, presupposes a corresponding attitude not only toward property or social status, but also toward knowledge, religiosity, piety, and even one’s own ascetic “achievements.”

For God’s poor person, none of these things has independent value, including knowledge: not only theoretical and speculative knowledge, but even mystical experience, which at first glance reveals far more than any speculation. God’s poor person understands perfectly well that all these things in themselves, including knowledge and even mystical experience, do not bring him closer to God. To be in God’s presence is the one thing in spiritual life that has meaning and significance, and it does not depend on the human being. A person can only ask for such nearness and strive toward it, but he cannot attain it or earn it by his own powers in such a way that it would belong to him by right or by merit.

And if that is so, then any human knowledge as such is worth nothing; and the person who thinks that he knows something, first, does not understand what is chief and real in spiritual life, and second, is mistaken by taking for real what is not real. The second, as a rule, follows from the first. This is the spiritual delusion of which the apostle reminds us, considering it quite dangerous: for it creates the illusion of spiritual life and a spiritual path where in fact there is neither the one nor the other.

Today we have one of the shortest Gospel readings, just three verses. Yet they allow us to see what is happening. The Pharisees took offense at Christ's words that we read yesterday and the day before, and He withdrew from Palestine into the region of Tyre and Sidon. At last He returned from there to the shore of the Sea of Tiberias, and crowds surrounded Him. These people had traveled a long way to gather around Jesus. They carried and led many sick and disabled people with them in order, as the evangelist says, to cast them down at His feet. The Greek verb used here, ρίπτω, means “to throw, toss, cast down, lay.” Carrying these sick people was very hard, and after reaching the place and climbing the mountain where Jesus sat, the people really did set down this heavy burden.

As with the healing of the paralytic, when his friends took apart the roof to lower him to Jesus' feet, here too people's perseverance and labor are necessary for God to perform His healing work. Bearing the burden of another person's illness is an important condition for being able to ask Christ for help.

In Gospel times there were many religions in the pagan world. And Paul, of course, knew this very well: he was born in Tarsus, a pagan city. In his life he had to see many different gods and cults. And he does not try to deny their existence at all, but only gives them the proper assessment. "So-called gods," he says of them. And he adds: in the world there are indeed many gods, and many lords too. But God with a capital letter is one. In this way the apostle defines the attitude of Christianity, and of monotheism in general, toward paganism.

Christians, like other monotheists, look at religious life quite realistically. It is pointless to deny what is reality for a pagan. In the end, gods are generated not by nature but by man. He creates gods for himself in his own image and likeness and makes them his lords, although it seems to him that these gods exist for his sake, that they protect him and help him.

In practice, however, it turns out that he cannot live without them. The gods created by human imagination really become lords for a person, his masters, not imaginary at all but quite real. And only the true God, the One with a capital letter, frees a person. This is no wonder: fallen man will not create for himself gods that could free him from himself. That would most resemble trying to pull oneself out of a swamp by one's own hair. The true God is different: man did not create Him. On the contrary, He created man, and only He can save His creation and free it from sin.

Only people do not always understand this. Fallen man is still more accustomed to his own gods. They may not always be able to help, but they do not demand that he give up a fallen but familiar and customary world. The true God, in saving, will lead him into His Kingdom. There is no other way to help a person. And here one must decide on serious change, or remain with one's own gods, one's own sins, and one's own masters.