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1 Corinthians 13 | 1 Corinthians Series
Throughout history, over 100 million songs have been written about love. Yet in our culture—much like in ancient Corinth—the question remains: how important is love really? If love were a Nando's order, would it be the main or would it be the side?
In both Greco-Roman society and modern London, the "I" is central. We ask, "What can I get from life? How can I fulfill my desires? How does me being in relationship with you help me?" In Corinth, an honor-based culture meant that marriages and friendships were calculated based on what a person could provide to elevate social standing. Relationships were mostly based on what I can get from the other rather than what I can give.
Paul addresses this directly throughout 1 Corinthians, highlighting how the ways of the world and culture shape the life, direction, and values of the church. Chapter 13 answers the crucial question: What does love have to do with our lives, our relationships, the church, and our mission? Isn't love nice to have but not essential to being a Christian?
Paul challenges these assumptions in three ways: first, he shows how essential love is (verses 1–3); second, he paints a beautiful picture of what love actually looks like (verses 4–7); and third, he reveals what love ultimately points to (verses 8–13).
If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have and if I deliver my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.
The Corinthians were using spiritual gifts as a means of comparing themselves against one another. The flashy gifts—tongues and prophecy—were held in high esteem, and possessing them made people feel important. The issue wasn't that spiritual gifts were wrong. Paul taught in chapter 12 that the gifts of the Spirit are given for the common good. But the Corinthians were using them for the "I"—their reputation and standing—instead of the "we," the building up of the body.
Paul likens this to a noisy gong or clanging cymbal. This may have been a reference to idol worshipers of Dionysus and Cybele who would hit their gongs and clash their cymbals in a frenzy of worship. The constant, ever-louder sound would eventually annoy people so much that it drove them away from worship altogether.
Paul pushes further: you can have understanding of all knowledge, all mysteries, and faith to move mountains, but without love, "I am nothing." Imagine opening an amazingly wrapped gift on Christmas Day or your birthday. The bow is immaculate. The wrapping paper suggests something expensive. Clearly, someone spent tremendous time preparing this gift. Your anticipation builds as you grab the box, ready to receive. You open it and find absolutely nothing inside. How would you feel? Enraged? Frustrated? Tricked?
This is what Paul likens spiritual gifts without love to—something empty that does not deliver what it promises. The gifts are meant to build up the body and reveal Jesus Christ. To use what He gives us for any other purpose makes the gifts void and causes them to lose their very purpose.
Paul then speaks of great exploits: giving away all you have or delivering your body to be burned. Society loves sacrifice stories—Saving Private Ryan, Braveheart, 300, or Avengers, where Iron Man sacrifices himself to defeat his enemy. These capture us because of the extreme levels individuals go to for others and causes bigger than themselves.
But people can sacrifice for many reasons. Sometimes for love, yes—but also for friendship, family honor, legacy, pride, or to avoid being seen as a coward. The Japanese samurai practiced seppuku, committing suicide to restore their family's honor if they failed to live up to their name.
Paul is hitting at something significant: the size of our actions does not indicate the presence of love. The things the Corinthians valued—things that puffed them up and gave them recognition—Paul says are nothing without love. Those great exploits, like the empty gift, promise much but deliver nothing of value or substance. They ultimately leave the body disappointed.
Christian life involves sacrifice in many ways—through our money, our time with one another, our lives for the cause of Jesus Christ. Sacrifice is important, but without love, it is useless. It profits nothing. Tongues are good. Prophecy, good. Knowledge, good. Faith, good. Sacrifice, good. But love is so valuable, so important, so essential that apart from it, every other good thing is useless. Sometimes we make the great mistake of letting go of what is best for something else that is good, but not the best.
Love is patient and kind. Love does not envy or boast. It is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own. It is not irritable or resentful. It does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Paul gives us a vivid picture of what love looks like in reality. We often admire these qualities in others—patience, kindness, humility, gentleness—but sometimes struggle to display them ourselves. It's amazing being with people who are patient and kind, who don't insist on their own, and are not arrogant. Our issue with love often becomes apparent when we are called to display these same attributes.
The agape love Paul describes here doesn't put the "I" first, but puts the other first. In the Corinthian church, it was about the self. I love it when people put me first, whether in relationships or marriage. It's great to be put first. But ask me to put others first, and problems arise. When you put others first, there's a fear that your needs won't be taken care of, or at least not the way you'd like.
Consider a familiar scenario: driving on a tight road. As a good driver, I go into a space and let oncoming traffic approach. When an appropriate number of cars have passed, I proceed, hoping the oncoming car will show me the same care and thoughtfulness and let me pass. Except sometimes they don't. They quickly rush into the road, forcing me to stay in my place longer than feels fair. That's when something breaks in me. I make a decision: I'm not letting any more cars in today. I tried to be the nice guy. People took advantage of me. I'm not flashing any cars. If you're coming from a side road, you're going to wait. You're going to look at me, and I'm going to ignore you. If you do the wrong thing, you'd better know I'm that car right next to you, staring right in your face, trying to communicate that you've done the wrong thing. I spend the rest of that journey with a chip on my shoulder.
I behave this way because I have a rule—and I think society has this rule too. It's this: I scratch your back and you scratch mine. You love me, then I will love you. Your loving me and scratching my back lets me know I can be safe here, so I can proceed to love you or scratch your back. This is transactional love.
It's easy to love people who love us back. But the true litmus test of love is loving others who don't love us back or who can't return the favor. The love Paul talks about here is love so great that it can be given to the unlovable or the unappealing. It is love that loves even when it is rejected.
Agape love gives because it wants to. It does not demand or expect repayment. It gives because it loves. Love does not love in order to receive back. In other words, this love is not of this world. It's plugged into a source that isn't impacted by the ways and customs of this world.
Often, people read 1 Corinthians 13 and replace the word "love" with the word "Jesus" because these verbs perfectly describe who He is and how He interacts with us. He is patient. He is kind. He is never resentful, and He always rejoices in our good.
By listing these verbs, Paul invites the church and us to take our gaze off ourselves and place it firmly back on Jesus. Jesus is our definition of love, not the prevailing culture. It is His love that flows through us from one to the other. Because of this, I can be patient with you—not because I'm some super person, but because Jesus is patient with me. I don't need to be boastful in life. Why? Because I'm seated with Christ in heavenly places. I don't need to envy. Why? Because the Lord will supply all my needs according to His riches and glory.
When we pour out His love to one another, He never leaves us dry. He always pours back into us.
Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away. As for tongues, they will cease. As for knowledge, it will pass away... But when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away... When I was a child, I spoke like a child. I thought like a child. I reasoned like a child. But when I became a man, I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face... So now faith, hope, and love abide. These three, but the greatest of these is love.
Imagine you've just gotten engaged and received a beautiful engagement ring. You treasure it, show your family, and keep looking at it because every time you see it, you're reminded that someone loves you and that wedding day is coming.
But imagine the wedding day finally arrives. The music begins, the doors open, and the bride starts walking down the aisle. At that moment, nobody is staring at the ring anymore. The ring hasn't become worthless in any way. In fact, it's done exactly what it was meant to do: it has pointed you to someone or something greater than itself.
This is what Paul is saying about spiritual gifts. Prophecy is wonderful. Tongues are wonderful. Knowledge is wonderful. They are precious gifts from God. But they were never the destination. They have always been here to point us to Jesus. They give us a glimpse of His presence, His power, and His kingdom. One day, we won't need signs pointing us to Christ because we will be standing before Him face to face. The ring won't be discarded because it was bad. It simply won't be needed anymore because the wedding has begun.
But love doesn't disappear at the wedding. In fact, love is the very reason for the wedding. Love doesn't need to point to anything beyond itself because love is what eternity is made of.
All the things the Corinthian church saw as status symbols will pass away. Tongues, knowledge, and prophecy are good, but they'll have no use in heaven. When we see Jesus, we won't need to prophesy, speak in tongues, or have loads of knowledge because ultimately these gifts have been pointing to Him, Jesus Christ.
Childish things are appropriate for children. There's nothing wrong with them. And the gifts are appropriate for our present time. But the gifts of the Holy Spirit will not be appropriate forever. 1 John 3:2 says:
Behold, now we are children of God. And it has not yet been revealed what we shall be. But we know that when he is revealed, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.
When we see Christ in all His glory, we will realize we haven't had the whole picture. The gifts are but a small glimmer into His majesty and splendor—like looking into a dimly lit mirror. We can only see in part. And if we can only see in part, we know there is more. Just imagine what that more looks like.
When we are in heaven, faith and hope will have fulfilled their purpose. We won't need faith when we see God face to face. We won't need hope in the coming of Jesus once He comes. But we will always love the Lord and each other and grow in that love throughout eternity.
So how important is love? Love is the main and not the side. Love has everything to do with our walk with Christ, how we interact with one another, how we display His gifts—because He is love. Love isn't secondary after tongues or knowledge. It is essential. It is first.
If you're going to pursue anything in this walk, pursue love. Because without it, we are nothing. But with it, we get to experience the one thing in this entire universe that will never pass away—the one thing that will continue to grow as we finally get to see Him together as His bride face to face.
Our definition of love, saints, is Jesus. It's not what the world says.
Abide in faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.
Continue exploring
Connected by scripture or shared themes.
1 Corinthians 13 | 1 Corinthians Series
Throughout history, over 100 million songs have been written about love. Yet in our culture—much like in ancient Corinth—the question remains: how important is love really? If love were a Nando's order, would it be the main or would it be the side?
In both Greco-Roman society and modern London, the "I" is central. We ask, "What can I get from life? How can I fulfill my desires? How does me being in relationship with you help me?" In Corinth, an honor-based culture meant that marriages and friendships were calculated based on what a person could provide to elevate social standing. Relationships were mostly based on what I can get from the other rather than what I can give.
Paul addresses this directly throughout 1 Corinthians, highlighting how the ways of the world and culture shape the life, direction, and values of the church. Chapter 13 answers the crucial question: What does love have to do with our lives, our relationships, the church, and our mission? Isn't love nice to have but not essential to being a Christian?
Paul challenges these assumptions in three ways: first, he shows how essential love is (verses 1–3); second, he paints a beautiful picture of what love actually looks like (verses 4–7); and third, he reveals what love ultimately points to (verses 8–13).
If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have and if I deliver my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.
The Corinthians were using spiritual gifts as a means of comparing themselves against one another. The flashy gifts—tongues and prophecy—were held in high esteem, and possessing them made people feel important. The issue wasn't that spiritual gifts were wrong. Paul taught in chapter 12 that the gifts of the Spirit are given for the common good. But the Corinthians were using them for the "I"—their reputation and standing—instead of the "we," the building up of the body.
Paul likens this to a noisy gong or clanging cymbal. This may have been a reference to idol worshipers of Dionysus and Cybele who would hit their gongs and clash their cymbals in a frenzy of worship. The constant, ever-louder sound would eventually annoy people so much that it drove them away from worship altogether.
Paul pushes further: you can have understanding of all knowledge, all mysteries, and faith to move mountains, but without love, "I am nothing." Imagine opening an amazingly wrapped gift on Christmas Day or your birthday. The bow is immaculate. The wrapping paper suggests something expensive. Clearly, someone spent tremendous time preparing this gift. Your anticipation builds as you grab the box, ready to receive. You open it and find absolutely nothing inside. How would you feel? Enraged? Frustrated? Tricked?
This is what Paul likens spiritual gifts without love to—something empty that does not deliver what it promises. The gifts are meant to build up the body and reveal Jesus Christ. To use what He gives us for any other purpose makes the gifts void and causes them to lose their very purpose.
Paul then speaks of great exploits: giving away all you have or delivering your body to be burned. Society loves sacrifice stories—Saving Private Ryan, Braveheart, 300, or Avengers, where Iron Man sacrifices himself to defeat his enemy. These capture us because of the extreme levels individuals go to for others and causes bigger than themselves.
But people can sacrifice for many reasons. Sometimes for love, yes—but also for friendship, family honor, legacy, pride, or to avoid being seen as a coward. The Japanese samurai practiced seppuku, committing suicide to restore their family's honor if they failed to live up to their name.
Paul is hitting at something significant: the size of our actions does not indicate the presence of love. The things the Corinthians valued—things that puffed them up and gave them recognition—Paul says are nothing without love. Those great exploits, like the empty gift, promise much but deliver nothing of value or substance. They ultimately leave the body disappointed.
Christian life involves sacrifice in many ways—through our money, our time with one another, our lives for the cause of Jesus Christ. Sacrifice is important, but without love, it is useless. It profits nothing. Tongues are good. Prophecy, good. Knowledge, good. Faith, good. Sacrifice, good. But love is so valuable, so important, so essential that apart from it, every other good thing is useless. Sometimes we make the great mistake of letting go of what is best for something else that is good, but not the best.
Love is patient and kind. Love does not envy or boast. It is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own. It is not irritable or resentful. It does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Paul gives us a vivid picture of what love looks like in reality. We often admire these qualities in others—patience, kindness, humility, gentleness—but sometimes struggle to display them ourselves. It's amazing being with people who are patient and kind, who don't insist on their own, and are not arrogant. Our issue with love often becomes apparent when we are called to display these same attributes.
The agape love Paul describes here doesn't put the "I" first, but puts the other first. In the Corinthian church, it was about the self. I love it when people put me first, whether in relationships or marriage. It's great to be put first. But ask me to put others first, and problems arise. When you put others first, there's a fear that your needs won't be taken care of, or at least not the way you'd like.
Consider a familiar scenario: driving on a tight road. As a good driver, I go into a space and let oncoming traffic approach. When an appropriate number of cars have passed, I proceed, hoping the oncoming car will show me the same care and thoughtfulness and let me pass. Except sometimes they don't. They quickly rush into the road, forcing me to stay in my place longer than feels fair. That's when something breaks in me. I make a decision: I'm not letting any more cars in today. I tried to be the nice guy. People took advantage of me. I'm not flashing any cars. If you're coming from a side road, you're going to wait. You're going to look at me, and I'm going to ignore you. If you do the wrong thing, you'd better know I'm that car right next to you, staring right in your face, trying to communicate that you've done the wrong thing. I spend the rest of that journey with a chip on my shoulder.
I behave this way because I have a rule—and I think society has this rule too. It's this: I scratch your back and you scratch mine. You love me, then I will love you. Your loving me and scratching my back lets me know I can be safe here, so I can proceed to love you or scratch your back. This is transactional love.
It's easy to love people who love us back. But the true litmus test of love is loving others who don't love us back or who can't return the favor. The love Paul talks about here is love so great that it can be given to the unlovable or the unappealing. It is love that loves even when it is rejected.
Agape love gives because it wants to. It does not demand or expect repayment. It gives because it loves. Love does not love in order to receive back. In other words, this love is not of this world. It's plugged into a source that isn't impacted by the ways and customs of this world.
Often, people read 1 Corinthians 13 and replace the word "love" with the word "Jesus" because these verbs perfectly describe who He is and how He interacts with us. He is patient. He is kind. He is never resentful, and He always rejoices in our good.
By listing these verbs, Paul invites the church and us to take our gaze off ourselves and place it firmly back on Jesus. Jesus is our definition of love, not the prevailing culture. It is His love that flows through us from one to the other. Because of this, I can be patient with you—not because I'm some super person, but because Jesus is patient with me. I don't need to be boastful in life. Why? Because I'm seated with Christ in heavenly places. I don't need to envy. Why? Because the Lord will supply all my needs according to His riches and glory.
When we pour out His love to one another, He never leaves us dry. He always pours back into us.
Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away. As for tongues, they will cease. As for knowledge, it will pass away... But when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away... When I was a child, I spoke like a child. I thought like a child. I reasoned like a child. But when I became a man, I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face... So now faith, hope, and love abide. These three, but the greatest of these is love.
Imagine you've just gotten engaged and received a beautiful engagement ring. You treasure it, show your family, and keep looking at it because every time you see it, you're reminded that someone loves you and that wedding day is coming.
But imagine the wedding day finally arrives. The music begins, the doors open, and the bride starts walking down the aisle. At that moment, nobody is staring at the ring anymore. The ring hasn't become worthless in any way. In fact, it's done exactly what it was meant to do: it has pointed you to someone or something greater than itself.
This is what Paul is saying about spiritual gifts. Prophecy is wonderful. Tongues are wonderful. Knowledge is wonderful. They are precious gifts from God. But they were never the destination. They have always been here to point us to Jesus. They give us a glimpse of His presence, His power, and His kingdom. One day, we won't need signs pointing us to Christ because we will be standing before Him face to face. The ring won't be discarded because it was bad. It simply won't be needed anymore because the wedding has begun.
But love doesn't disappear at the wedding. In fact, love is the very reason for the wedding. Love doesn't need to point to anything beyond itself because love is what eternity is made of.
All the things the Corinthian church saw as status symbols will pass away. Tongues, knowledge, and prophecy are good, but they'll have no use in heaven. When we see Jesus, we won't need to prophesy, speak in tongues, or have loads of knowledge because ultimately these gifts have been pointing to Him, Jesus Christ.
Childish things are appropriate for children. There's nothing wrong with them. And the gifts are appropriate for our present time. But the gifts of the Holy Spirit will not be appropriate forever. 1 John 3:2 says:
Behold, now we are children of God. And it has not yet been revealed what we shall be. But we know that when he is revealed, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.
When we see Christ in all His glory, we will realize we haven't had the whole picture. The gifts are but a small glimmer into His majesty and splendor—like looking into a dimly lit mirror. We can only see in part. And if we can only see in part, we know there is more. Just imagine what that more looks like.
When we are in heaven, faith and hope will have fulfilled their purpose. We won't need faith when we see God face to face. We won't need hope in the coming of Jesus once He comes. But we will always love the Lord and each other and grow in that love throughout eternity.
So how important is love? Love is the main and not the side. Love has everything to do with our walk with Christ, how we interact with one another, how we display His gifts—because He is love. Love isn't secondary after tongues or knowledge. It is essential. It is first.
If you're going to pursue anything in this walk, pursue love. Because without it, we are nothing. But with it, we get to experience the one thing in this entire universe that will never pass away—the one thing that will continue to grow as we finally get to see Him together as His bride face to face.
Our definition of love, saints, is Jesus. It's not what the world says.
Abide in faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.
Continue exploring
Connected by scripture or shared themes.
