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Daily Readings for September 17, 2026

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Daily Reading

Thursday, September 17, 2026

Thursday of the Twenty-Fourth Week in Ordinary Time
LECTIONARY № 446 · WEEKDAY YEAR II
By the grace of Theos I am what I am. 1 Corinthians 15:10
First Reading · 1 Corinthians

"What I also received"

Where we are

The last major section of the letter, dealing with the resurrection — because some Corinthians were saying there is no resurrection of the dead. Paul begins not with an argument but by reciting something older than himself.

What happens

"For I handed on to you as of first importance what I also received: that Messiah died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures; that he was buried; that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures; that he appeared to Cephas, then to the Twelve. After that, he appeared to more than five hundred brothers at once, most of whom are still living… Last of all, as to one born abnormally, he appeared to me. For I am the least of the apostles, not fit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the assembly of Theos. But by the grace of Theos I am what I am… Indeed, I have toiled harder than all of them; not I, however, but the grace of Theos that is with me."

What to notice

Paredōka… ho kai parelabon — I handed over what I also received. The pair is technical: the Greek equivalents of the rabbinic masar and qibbel, the vocabulary of formal transmission. Paul is signalling that what follows is not his own composition. The parallelism, the repeated hoti clauses and the un-Pauline vocabulary all support him; it is very probably the oldest piece of Christian text in existence. Then the witness list, and the detail most quotations skip: "more than five hundred brothers at once, most of whom are still living." That is an invitation to check. And then the self-description, genuinely shocking in Greek: hōsperei tō ektrōmati, as to the ektrōma — a miscarriage, something expelled before it was ready. Chariti de theou eimi ho eimi — by the grace of Theos I am what I am: a small marvel of balance that claims everything and credits none of it. And he cannot let even that stand — "I toiled harder than all of them; not I, however, but the grace." He corrects himself inside the sentence.

Responsorial Psalm

"I shall not die, but live"

The whole psalm

The last of the Hallel, sung at Passover, and the psalm most quoted in the New Testament — it supplies "the stone the builders rejected" and "blessed is he who comes in the name of Yahweh." A thanksgiving from someone who was surrounded and came out alive.

The selected verses

Psalm 118:1–2. "Give thanks to Yahweh, for he is good; his hesed endures forever. Let the house of Israel say, 'His hesed endures forever.'"
Psalm 118:16–17. "The right hand of Yahweh is exalted; the right hand of Yahweh has struck with power. I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of Yahweh."
Psalm 118:28. "You are my Theos, and I give thanks to you; you are my Theos, and I extol you."

What to notice

Lo amut ki ehyeh — "I shall not die but live" — and then the purpose clause, which is why the lectionary chose it today: va-asapper ma'asei Yah, and I will recount the works of Yahweh. Survival is given a job. The psalmist does not say I shall live and be happy; he says he will live and tell. Which is precisely Paul's structure: he received something, he was spared something, and his whole account of himself is organized around handing it on.

Gospel · Luke

The alabaster jar

Where we are

Immediately after yesterday's saying about the children in the marketplace, where Jesus reported the charge against him: a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners. Luke's very next scene has him at a Pharisee's table, being touched by a woman known in the town as a sinner. The accusation and its illustration are placed back to back.

What happens

A Pharisee named Simon invites him to dine. A woman "known in the town to be a sinner" brings an alabaster flask of ointment, stands behind him at his feet weeping, bathes his feet with her tears, wipes them with her hair, kisses them, and anoints them. Simon says to himself: "If this man were a prophet, he would know who and what sort of woman this is." Jesus tells him of two debtors — five hundred days' wages and fifty — both forgiven, and asks which will love more. Simon answers correctly. Then the comparison: "You gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed them with her tears. You did not give me a kiss… You did not anoint my head with oil… So I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven; hence, she has shown great love." And to her: "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."

What to notice

Simon's failures are not insults; they are the ordinary courtesies of hospitality, omitted. He did nothing wrong. He simply did nothing. Her actions are the same three courtesies performed to excess and in the wrong place — feet instead of head, tears instead of water, hair instead of a towel. A woman loosening her hair in a room of men was a scandal, and she used it as a cloth. And the crux of the passage is one Greek word: aphēntai hai hamartiai autēs hai pollai, hoti ēgapēsen poly — "her many sins are forgiven, hoti she loved much." Hoti can mean because or as is shown by. Read as cause, the sentence contradicts the parable he has just told, in which the debtors love because they were forgiven. Read as evidence, the parable and the application agree — and the last verse confirms it, naming a different cause entirely: pistis sou, your trust has saved you.

How They Fit Together

The worst record in the room, held up as the example

I shall not die, but live your trust has saved you and declare the works of Yahweh Received, and therefore spent — the last link in the chain — 1 Corinthians 15:1–11 "what I also received" Psalm 118 "his hesed endures" Luke 7:36–50 an alabaster jar
Reading The disqualification
1 Corinthians 15:1–11 I persecuted the assembly of Theos — and he is on the witness list
Psalm 118 Death, avoided — and the survivor is given something to say
Luke 7:36–50 A woman known in the town to be a sinner — and she is the example

Two readings in which the person with the worst record is the one held up, and in both the mechanism is the same: something was received that could not have been earned, and the receiving produced everything afterward.

Paul's paragraph is structurally strange once you notice it. He opens with the language of a chain of custody — receiving and handing on — and ends by describing himself as the last and least link in it. He twice states his own disqualification without softening: not fit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the assembly. The persecution is a completed fact and is never retracted. What he offers against it is not a defence but an attribution: by the grace of Theos I am what I am.

The woman in Luke's scene has no speech at all. She is described entirely by what she does with her hands and her hair and a jar, and everything said about her is said by other people: Simon calls her a sinner, Jesus calls her forgiven. The parable Jesus tells to explain her is about arithmetic — five hundred against fifty — and Simon gets the answer right, which is the sharpest thing in the story. He is not stupid and he is not malicious. He does the sum correctly and cannot see that he is in it.

That is the day's real pairing. Simon's fault is not cruelty; it is that he has calculated his own debt as small. Jesus does not say he has no debt — "the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little" is left carefully open about whether the little forgiveness reflects a little debt or a little asking. What is certain is that the woman's estimate of her position was accurate and Simon's was not.

And Psalm 118 supplies the shape both readings end in. I shall not die, but live — and immediately, and declare the works of Yahweh. Neither Paul nor the woman is given a reprieve as a private matter. He receives a tradition and spends his life handing it over; she receives forgiveness and empties a jar over somebody's feet in a room full of people who were watching her. In both cases what was received could not be kept, and the spending of it is the evidence that it arrived.

A Question to Sit With Simon got the parable right. That is what I keep returning to — he was asked which debtor would love more, he answered correctly, and he still could not see that the story was about the room he was sitting in. I do this constantly: understand a principle, agree with it, apply it to the situation in front of me, and never once check whether I am the one being described. Where have I recently been asked a question I answered well, without noticing that I was in it?