You could write this post. Help me out here. It goes something like this. We read this description of love from 1 Corinthians 13 and are moved by it. These are the kinds of poetic verses young couples want to include in their marriage ceremony. These are the kinds of words we want bursting out of the greeting card we give to that special someone. We are drawn to the beautiful depiction of love in these verses.
We are also conflicted. Beautiful as they are, they serve a dual purpose. They do not only show us what ideal love looks like; they expose quite clearly what our love does not look like.
You’ve seen the side-by-side pictures comparing the frame-worthy picturesque Pinterest project right next to the real-life cringe-worthy attempts at those projects. It’s laughable how drastically different the ideal is from the real-life attempt. By comparison, the DIY attempt looks as if a toddler tried it (no offense, toddlers). That’s how we feel about this description of love. It is a breathtakingly beautiful, awe-inspiring ideal. But it also makes our attempts at love look like a disastrous DIY fail.
Then we return back to these verses again to see the perfect love of Jesus. Thank goodness in his perfect love he forgives our lovelessness. Phew! The end.
Then what? What changes? Eventually, we’ll come across the same section of Scripture again, but what will have changed? Anything? Or have we become so accustomed to the same pattern that we haven’t even bothered to notice how little our love changes from one “love sermon” to the next?
As we consider these words yet again, let’s do so in light of Paul’s reasoning in verse 11. “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.” While Paul is making the point that our Christian lives on this side of heaven will never measure up to our perfect knowledge and understanding on the other side, his words force us to deal with the question of whether we’re still babes in the faith. Are we children or are we maturing and developing into adult Christians? More specific to these verses from 1 Corinthians, how is that reflected in the way that we love others?
Let’s start with revisiting how instrumental love is to God. Consider where love ranks in God’s eyes, based on what the Holy Spirit led Paul to write in chapters 12 & 13 of 1 Corinthians. The chapter right before this one covers what is an extremely popular topic among Christians: spiritual gifts.
Read through it and you’ll see Paul mention all of these super cool gifts that the Holy Spirit poured out on all believers to serve each other and build up the early church. He refers to stuff like the ability to heal sick people and perform miracles and speak in tongues and prophesy – all kinds of awesome gifts, and all of them important! As Paul wraps up the section encouraging the believers to put their respective gifts to work, he writes something that catches our attention: “But eagerly desire the greater gifts. And now I will show you the most excellent way” (1 Corinthians 12:31).
What? Does Paul mean to say that as amazing as stuff like the ability to heal sick people and perform miracles and speak in tongues and prophesy are, there is something greater??? An even more excellent way??? Something even more worthwhile to pursue???
You might understandably expect that Paul would be talking about faith. After all, it’s one of his favorite themes in so many of his letters in the New Testament of the Bible: righteousness by faith; faith, not works; saved by faith; the gift of faith, etc. Paul covers the topic of faith so much that it would be a relatively safe bet to presume that’s where he was going with this, that surely faith would be the greatest gift, the most excellent way.
And indeed Paul does mention faith, but not to stress it in the way we might have expected. He writes, “and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing” (v.2).
Whoa. Is that a typo? Did Paul – the fanboy of faith – really just write that a person who has a mountain-moving faith but is devoid of love is nothing??? Yes, he did. Yikes!
And that’s not all! It isn’t just faith that love leaves in its dust, but hope as well. Check out the last verse of the whole love chapter and see what Paul says. “And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love” (13:13). So love does not merely trump all of those outstanding spiritual gifts, but also tops even faith and hope! Is Paul being clear enough here for us? Love is apparently a big deal – like, the biggest deal of all!
For that reason, this description of love in these verses ought to trouble us mightily, because if love is such a big deal to God, these verses clearly cry out against us that we’re a long way away from it!
There’s an exercise you can follow that really brings this point home. In verses 4 through the beginning of verse 8, replace the word “love” – or reference to it – with your name. So for me it would read like this: “Aaron is patient, Aaron is kind. Aaron does not envy, Aaron does not boast, Aaron is not proud. Aaron does not dishonor others, Aaron is not self-seeking, Aaron is not easily angered, Aaron keeps no record of wrongs. Aaron does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. Aaron always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Aaron never fails.” Now that may have a nice ring to it, but if I actually rejoice with the truth, as the verses state, then the painful truth is that none of those statements is true! Not even close! Not for any one of us!
But that’s not the worst part. We all know our love falls short – that part’s plain as day. And we know that alone is more than enough for God to turn away from us. But it’s worse than that. I’m talking about the true barometer of our lovelessness in 12:31: “But eagerly desire the greater gifts.” It’s one thing to be willing to admit that our love falls short, to walk away confident in our forgiveness, then presume that all is good.
But are we as willing to admit that we don’t eagerly desire to get better at it? Let’s be upfront and honest with each other: most of us really don’t want to change that much. We don’t mind admitting how loveless we often are, but it’s painful to admit the other reality of how little we desire to get any better at loving others. That might just be the hardest thing of all in the Christian faith.
We can talk all day long about faith and hope – delightful spiritual topics, and topics that deal primarily with our personal relationship with God. And how convenient for us! After all, no one can really measure how much faith or hope I have in my heart in terms of my relationship with God. Those aren’t visible.
But love… that one can be seen. It can be felt. And so can the lack of it. And that stings us.
We avoid becoming better at loving others because it involves real sacrifice. It involves inconvenience. It doesn’t just mean talk of putting others first, but actually loving them enough to do it. And we’d simply rather not. It’s much easier for us just to confess our love falls short, thank goodness we’re forgiven, and move on. So can’t we just confess we’re no good at it and be forgiven and call it good?
No. No, we cannot. The forgiven child of God is a changed child of God. We desire to get better at loving others. We take very seriously Paul’s charge in Romans: “Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for whoever loves others has fulfilled the law” (13:8). Loving others isn’t only a debt that we cannot pay off, but a debt that we don’t want to ever pay off.
Do you suppose Paul has any Spirit-inspired opinions on how best to put love into action? He does. Read what Paul writes after chapter 13 and it is quite clear that the highest expression of love is to speak God’s Word. Love your brothers and sisters in Christ by speaking the Word of God to them. Love those outside the church by speaking the Word of God to them. Love expresses itself best through lips that speak of God’s love for us in Christ and through his cross.
There alone do we see the perfect expression of love. There we come to know what love is (1 John 3:16). There we come to appreciate how deep, how wide, and how high Christ’s love is for us (Ephesians 3:18). There we will come to see that our desire and ability to grow in loving others always flows from a deeper understanding of knowing Jesus’ love for us.
Let’s repeat that exercise from earlier and fill in the only name that works. “Jesus is patient, Jesus is kind. Jesus does not envy, Jesus does not boast, Jesus is not proud. Jesus does not dishonor others, Jesus is not self-seeking, Jesus is not easily angered, Jesus keeps no record of wrongs. Jesus does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. Jesus always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Jesus never fails.”
Jesus is all of those things for us, and that is the driving force behind our desire to eagerly pursue great love, a radical love, a Christ-like love. That’s the kind of thing Paul was talking about when he wrote elsewhere, “For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died” (2 Corinthians 5:14).
Jesus’ love for us does not yield stagnant hearts, but servant hearts – hearts that are eager to get better at loving others. Jesus’ love for us begs to be displayed to others in a loveless world. When a loveless world sees how radical Jesus’ love is – radical enough to forgive and transform loveless you and me! – that’s how Jesus’ love changes the world, one soul at a time.