Slick packaging

Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

1 Corinthians 13:4-7

A lot of the heart-shaped stuff is starting to appear on shelves, isn’t it? Eye-catching packaging, maybe you’d be excited to see what’s inside.

The other package, the plain one. What does it contain? Would the contents feel quite as special?

The readings for Sunday, 30 January, included 1 Corinthians 13, a familiar passage of scripture. Some of us may have very sentimental feelings about this passage, as it is very often read at weddings. Karl and I selected it as one of the readings for our own wedding! But if we only think about this as a kind of inspirational poem made for weddings, we’re missing a lot. When St Paul was writing this letter, he wasn’t writing to a couple about to be married, he was writing to a whole church community. And he was writing to a church community that had problems, arguments, and disagreements. The lectionary has been following 1 Corinthians these recent weeks, reading through this letter. In previous chapters Paul has addressed the issue of spiritual gifts in the community. It seems the church at Corinth was a lively place! There were people with inspired words of teaching, prophecy, people who felt a sense of leadership, people who wanted to sing, speak in tongues, and lead in prayer. But Paul tries to point out to them, in so many words, that if everyone in the group is simply talking over one another all the time, there isn’t blessing but chaos. How is anyone going be spiritually edified if no one is prepared to listen? How is anyone blessed by all these gifts if they are the basis of pride, with some members of the community pushing themselves to the top, then looking down on others?

So Paul comes to the point. At the end of chapter 12 he tells them he will show them a more excellent way. And that is what unfolds in chapter 13, instruction for the community to organise themselves not around impressive, attention-grabbing spiritual gifts, but on the basis of love.

Paul begins this passage by listing spiritual gifts that he himself exercises: speaking in the tones of mortals and angels, he has already stated earlier in the letter that the gift of tongues is a good thing; insight to prophesy or share words of knowledge; faith to move mountains; we can imagine the apostle Paul confidently exercising these gifts. The giving away of possessions, surrendering even his own body or physical safety—these are things that Paul has done. He has endured persecution, arrest and beatings. Yet all of these, all the ecstatic gifts and all the dramatic gestures are of no worth if they are not guided by and founded on love.

Patience. Kindness. Truthfulness. Hopefulness. Do those seem like nice things to receive? Do we think of those things in the same way that we think of material gifts done up in slick packaging?

By comparison to these visible, dramatic, charismatic gifts (and after all, faith to move mountains would be a really good thing, wouldn't it?) perhaps love seems rather shy and unimpressive. Love is patient and kind. Love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude—those are the exact deficiencies of the Corinthian church about which Paul has already written: their exercise of spiritual gifts become a source of pride, they interrupt and talk over one another in their gatherings, they all seem to be fighting for the spotlight. But love is different, it doesn’t insist on its own way, it isn’t pushy, and doesn’t hold grudges. The sense of love which Paul describes is something quiet, but determined, consistent and committed. It is not a rapturous, uncontrollable feeling, it is a lifestyle made up of choices day by day. Paul speaks of love as the single, preeminent, eternal principle around which our existence revolves. The need for spiritual gifts will pass away, even the need for faith will pass away, when we stand in wholeness, face to face, before the pure light of God at the end of all things. What will endure in that existence is love.

That image of eternal love gives us a beautiful frame through which to view the scene from our gospel reading about the presentation of Christ in the temple.

Then Simeon blessed them and said to his mother Mary, ‘This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.’

Luke 2;34-35

Simeon, who has awaited a promised revelation from God, sees the fulfilment of his waiting in the infant Christ, whom he describes as a light for revelation to the Gentiles. And the message that he has for Mary is inspiring and heavy: there was much that was going to come, and her own soul would be pierced. The destiny leading to an act of self-sacrificing love was already in motion. The person of Christ, the entity of his life, death, and resurrection would make the way for all of us to live in community, in the Spirit of love which Paul describes. We have just gotten under way with 2022, and it feels like a real beginning, as we cautiously hope for that this relaxation of restrictions will be for good. Before we move on to quickly, may we all take some time to renew, re-focus and open ourselves to live in the space of God’s gracious love with one another.