About Today
Friday 13 March 2026
Friday of the 3rd week of Lent
Christ the Lord was tempted and suffered for us. Come, let us adore him.
Or: O that today you would listen to his voice: harden not your hearts.
Year: A(II). Psalm week: 3. Liturgical Colour: Violet
Today's Gospel: "With all your mind"
Sometimes there is a message for us in some words of the Gospel that even the evangelists don’t notice. There is an example here, hidden in words so uninteresting that we can’t even be sure who said them. Matthew and Mark say Jesus, while Luke says the scribe.
Jesus (or the scribe) appears to be quoting from the Old Testament, but one phrase does not exist in any text of the Commandments: that we should love the Lord our God with all our mind.
It is easy not to notice this phrase, and indeed Matthew, Mark and Luke don’t notice it. We know this because normally when Jesus departs from the Old Testament it is noticed, and remarked upon, and made the subject of a whole “But I say to you…” discourse.
Not here.
There are two aspects to this. One is what it says about the past, the other is what it says to us. The past is straightforward. The Jews have never been “people of the Book” in the sense of believing in the Bible and nothing but the Bible. They have, it is true, had a peculiar reverence for every sacred word, but they have lived not in unthinking obedience to those words alone but in a dialogue, you might even say in a relationship, with the sacred text. So the fact that “all your mind” appears here, without attracting notice or comment, must mean that it had become a part of the generally accepted interpretation of the words of Scripture. When, centuries after the Pentateuch, the Jews came across the new, Greek ways of thinking – as the Wisdom literature shows that they did – they immediately realised that this new thing called “mind” was included, no doubt about it, in the commandment to love.
What this says to us is more important than just a footnote in the history of ideas. It is the foundation and justification of all science. God does not command the impossible. If he is to be loved with the mind, that can only be because he is lovable with the mind, or, to detheologize the language, because Ultimate Being can be related to rationally. The Gospel phrase tells us that things make sense and that we have the equipment to make sense of them.
What does omnipotence mean? Does it mean that the Omnipotent can do anything at all? If that were true, all science would be at an end. If God willed that when I dropped a glass on the floor it would shatter, then even if God had willed the same whenever anyone in the past had ever dropped a glass, that would still not bind God. God would still be free to decide, if I dropped a glass on the floor now, that this particular glass, alone among all the glasses in history, should bounce and not break.
Which is to say: on this interpretation of divine omnipotence, science is impossible. We cannot predict the result of an experiment, because next time God may decide differently. We cannot even lay down laws of nature based on previous experience, because to call a law a “law” is to claim to be able to bind God, which is blasphemy.
This is not merely an academic quibble. When the 11th-century Muslim philosopher al-Ghazāli propounded this very idea, it captured the mainstream of Islamic thinking and led to the virtual suicide of science in Islam and the abandonment of rational thinking about the physical world, as being unnecessary, or sacrilegious, or both.
We are saved from this by this one little phrase in the Gospel, about loving God with all our mind. It is more than mere permission, it is a command to understand, to go out and do science, and it was followed whenever Christians had leisure to think. It led to the dazzling 13th-century renaissance and the birth of modern science, and we are still living through its consequences.
As for divine omnipotence, this is not the place to go into it in detail, but the answer to al-Ghazāli must surely be that God can indeed make the glass bounce, but God cannot make the glass bounce and still be God, since to break the laws and regularities of nature whimsically and without reason would be to abandon lovability-with-the-mind. This is exactly the argument that theologians use against pointless or frivolous miracles, but it applies to science as well, and to the possibility of doing science at all.
Todays gospel reading
Mark 12:28b-34 One of the scribes came up to Jesus
At that time: One of the scribes came up to Jesus and asked him, ‘Which commandment is the most important of all?’ Jesus answered, ‘The most important is, “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.” The second is this: “You shall love your neighbour as yourself.” There is no other commandment greater than these.’ And the scribe said to him, ‘You are right, Teacher. You have truly said that he is one, and there is no other besides him. And to love him with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and with all the strength, and to love one’s neighbour as oneself, is much more than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices.’ And when Jesus saw that he answered wisely, he said to him, ‘You are not far from the kingdom of God.’ And after that no one dared to ask him any more questions.
Reflection on the relief limestone panel
In the ancient world, writing was a rare and precious skill, reserved for a very small, educated elite. In early civilisations like Egypt and Mesopotamia, as societies became more complex (with administration, taxation, trade, and religion developing) there arose a need for people who could record, organise, and transmit information. Thus, the scribe emerged: not simply a writer, but a guardian of knowledge. In ancient Egypt especially, scribes held a position of great prestige. They recorded taxes, preserved religious texts, and even assisted in legal matters. In a largely illiterate society, they became indispensable, the bridge between authority and the people. Our panel from circa 1350 BC beautifully captures this long tradition.
In Israel, this role developed further, especially after the Babylonian Exile, when there was a deep need to preserve and transmit the Law. Scribes became not only writers but also interpreters of Scripture. Figures like Ezra are described as “skilled in the Law,” showing how the role had evolved into something both intellectual and spiritual. By the time of Jesus, scribes were highly respected experts in the Law of Moses, often called “teachers of the law.” They copied the Scriptures meticulously, interpreted them, taught them publicly, and even drafted legal documents for everyday life. So they were much more than just transcribers of texts.
In the New Testament Scribes are often linked to the Pharisees, sharing their concern for strict observance of the Law, though the two groups were not identical. A scribe was a profession: someone trained in reading, writing, and especially in copying and interpreting the Law. They were the scholars, lawyers, and teachers of Scripture. A Pharisee was a religious movement or group, a community of devout Jews committed to living out the Law in everyday life, with great attention to detail and tradition.
In our Gospel reading today, the scribe who approaches Jesus stands out in a surprisingly positive light. He is not trying to trap Jesus,, but is genuinely seeking understanding. Having heard the earlier debates, he recognises that Jesus has answered wisely, and so he asks a sincere question: “Which commandment is the first of all?” This is the question of a man searching for the heart of the Law. When Jesus responds with the command to love God and neighbour, the scribe not only agrees, but shows real insight, affirming that such love is far greater than mere ritual offerings. Jesus, in turn, recognises the sincerity of his heart and tells him, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” So here, the scribe is not an opponent, but a genuine seeker.
Egyptian Relief of Four scribes,
From the tomb of Horemheb, Saqqara, circa 1350 BC,
Carved limestone
© Museo Archaeologico Nazionale, Florence
Friday of the 3rd week of Lent
Christ the Lord was tempted and suffered for us. Come, let us adore him.
Or: O that today you would listen to his voice: harden not your hearts.
Year: A(II). Psalm week: 3. Liturgical Colour: Violet
Today's Gospel: "With all your mind"
Sometimes there is a message for us in some words of the Gospel that even the evangelists don’t notice. There is an example here, hidden in words so uninteresting that we can’t even be sure who said them. Matthew and Mark say Jesus, while Luke says the scribe.
Jesus (or the scribe) appears to be quoting from the Old Testament, but one phrase does not exist in any text of the Commandments: that we should love the Lord our God with all our mind.
It is easy not to notice this phrase, and indeed Matthew, Mark and Luke don’t notice it. We know this because normally when Jesus departs from the Old Testament it is noticed, and remarked upon, and made the subject of a whole “But I say to you…” discourse.
Not here.
There are two aspects to this. One is what it says about the past, the other is what it says to us. The past is straightforward. The Jews have never been “people of the Book” in the sense of believing in the Bible and nothing but the Bible. They have, it is true, had a peculiar reverence for every sacred word, but they have lived not in unthinking obedience to those words alone but in a dialogue, you might even say in a relationship, with the sacred text. So the fact that “all your mind” appears here, without attracting notice or comment, must mean that it had become a part of the generally accepted interpretation of the words of Scripture. When, centuries after the Pentateuch, the Jews came across the new, Greek ways of thinking – as the Wisdom literature shows that they did – they immediately realised that this new thing called “mind” was included, no doubt about it, in the commandment to love.
What this says to us is more important than just a footnote in the history of ideas. It is the foundation and justification of all science. God does not command the impossible. If he is to be loved with the mind, that can only be because he is lovable with the mind, or, to detheologize the language, because Ultimate Being can be related to rationally. The Gospel phrase tells us that things make sense and that we have the equipment to make sense of them.
What does omnipotence mean? Does it mean that the Omnipotent can do anything at all? If that were true, all science would be at an end. If God willed that when I dropped a glass on the floor it would shatter, then even if God had willed the same whenever anyone in the past had ever dropped a glass, that would still not bind God. God would still be free to decide, if I dropped a glass on the floor now, that this particular glass, alone among all the glasses in history, should bounce and not break.
Which is to say: on this interpretation of divine omnipotence, science is impossible. We cannot predict the result of an experiment, because next time God may decide differently. We cannot even lay down laws of nature based on previous experience, because to call a law a “law” is to claim to be able to bind God, which is blasphemy.
This is not merely an academic quibble. When the 11th-century Muslim philosopher al-Ghazāli propounded this very idea, it captured the mainstream of Islamic thinking and led to the virtual suicide of science in Islam and the abandonment of rational thinking about the physical world, as being unnecessary, or sacrilegious, or both.
We are saved from this by this one little phrase in the Gospel, about loving God with all our mind. It is more than mere permission, it is a command to understand, to go out and do science, and it was followed whenever Christians had leisure to think. It led to the dazzling 13th-century renaissance and the birth of modern science, and we are still living through its consequences.
As for divine omnipotence, this is not the place to go into it in detail, but the answer to al-Ghazāli must surely be that God can indeed make the glass bounce, but God cannot make the glass bounce and still be God, since to break the laws and regularities of nature whimsically and without reason would be to abandon lovability-with-the-mind. This is exactly the argument that theologians use against pointless or frivolous miracles, but it applies to science as well, and to the possibility of doing science at all.
Todays gospel reading
Mark 12:28b-34 One of the scribes came up to Jesus
At that time: One of the scribes came up to Jesus and asked him, ‘Which commandment is the most important of all?’ Jesus answered, ‘The most important is, “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.” The second is this: “You shall love your neighbour as yourself.” There is no other commandment greater than these.’ And the scribe said to him, ‘You are right, Teacher. You have truly said that he is one, and there is no other besides him. And to love him with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and with all the strength, and to love one’s neighbour as oneself, is much more than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices.’ And when Jesus saw that he answered wisely, he said to him, ‘You are not far from the kingdom of God.’ And after that no one dared to ask him any more questions.
Reflection on the relief limestone panel
In the ancient world, writing was a rare and precious skill, reserved for a very small, educated elite. In early civilisations like Egypt and Mesopotamia, as societies became more complex (with administration, taxation, trade, and religion developing) there arose a need for people who could record, organise, and transmit information. Thus, the scribe emerged: not simply a writer, but a guardian of knowledge. In ancient Egypt especially, scribes held a position of great prestige. They recorded taxes, preserved religious texts, and even assisted in legal matters. In a largely illiterate society, they became indispensable, the bridge between authority and the people. Our panel from circa 1350 BC beautifully captures this long tradition.
In Israel, this role developed further, especially after the Babylonian Exile, when there was a deep need to preserve and transmit the Law. Scribes became not only writers but also interpreters of Scripture. Figures like Ezra are described as “skilled in the Law,” showing how the role had evolved into something both intellectual and spiritual. By the time of Jesus, scribes were highly respected experts in the Law of Moses, often called “teachers of the law.” They copied the Scriptures meticulously, interpreted them, taught them publicly, and even drafted legal documents for everyday life. So they were much more than just transcribers of texts.
In the New Testament Scribes are often linked to the Pharisees, sharing their concern for strict observance of the Law, though the two groups were not identical. A scribe was a profession: someone trained in reading, writing, and especially in copying and interpreting the Law. They were the scholars, lawyers, and teachers of Scripture. A Pharisee was a religious movement or group, a community of devout Jews committed to living out the Law in everyday life, with great attention to detail and tradition.
In our Gospel reading today, the scribe who approaches Jesus stands out in a surprisingly positive light. He is not trying to trap Jesus,, but is genuinely seeking understanding. Having heard the earlier debates, he recognises that Jesus has answered wisely, and so he asks a sincere question: “Which commandment is the first of all?” This is the question of a man searching for the heart of the Law. When Jesus responds with the command to love God and neighbour, the scribe not only agrees, but shows real insight, affirming that such love is far greater than mere ritual offerings. Jesus, in turn, recognises the sincerity of his heart and tells him, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” So here, the scribe is not an opponent, but a genuine seeker.
Egyptian Relief of Four scribes,
From the tomb of Horemheb, Saqqara, circa 1350 BC,
Carved limestone
© Museo Archaeologico Nazionale, Florence