The Indispensable Ingredient: The Excellence of Love Text: 1 Corinthians 13:1-3
Introduction: A More Excellent Way
We live in a time that is obsessed with giftedness. Our culture worships at the altar of talent, charisma, and spectacular performance. And the Corinthian church, in many ways, would have fit right in. They were a church bursting at the seams with spiritual gifts. As Paul says at the beginning of this letter, they were not lacking in any gift. They had tongues, prophecy, knowledge, and faith that could move mountains. They were, by all outward appearances, a showcase of the Holy Spirit's power. And yet, Paul has to write them a letter that is largely a catalog of their carnality. They were arrogant, divided, litigious, and sexually immoral. They were a five-star, spiritually gifted disaster.
This sets the stage for what we find here in 1 Corinthians 13. This chapter is not, as it is so often treated, a sentimental Hallmark card about romantic feelings, to be read dreamily at weddings. This chapter is a stick of theological dynamite, tossed into the middle of a playground of carnal Christians who were misusing God's gifts for their own glory. Paul has just spent a chapter outlining the various spiritual gifts, and he concludes by telling them to desire the best gifts. But then he immediately pivots. "And yet shew I unto you a more excellent way" (1 Cor. 12:31). That more excellent way is the subject of this chapter, and it is the way of love. Not love as the world defines it, a squishy, sentimental, and ultimately selfish emotion, but love as God defines it: a rugged, self-sacrificial, covenantal commitment to the good of others.
Paul's argument here is one of radical deflation. He is going to take the most impressive spiritual gifts, the most radical acts of piety, and the most extreme forms of self-sacrifice, and he is going to show that without love, they are all spiritually worthless. They are nothing. They are noise. They are useless. This is a foundational lesson for the church in every age. It is possible to be doctrinally correct, spiritually gifted, and radically committed, and yet, in God's accounting, to be a complete zero. The presence of gifts is not the same as the presence of godliness. The crucial variable, the indispensable ingredient, is love.
The Text
If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.
And if I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.
And if I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I surrender my body to be burned, but do not have love, it profits me nothing.
(1 Corinthians 13:1-3 LSB)
Gifted Eloquence Without Love is Just Noise (v. 1)
Paul begins with the gift that the Corinthians prized so highly, the gift of tongues.
"If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal." (1 Corinthians 13:1)
Notice the hypothetical grandeur. Paul is not just talking about the gift of tongues as it was practiced. He pushes it to its absolute theoretical limit. "Suppose," he says, "that my linguistic ability was not just limited to earthly languages. Suppose I could speak the dialect of the cherubim. Suppose I could articulate my prayers and praises in the native tongue of the archangels." This is the pinnacle of charismatic eloquence. This is the kind of thing that would have made a man a spiritual superstar in Corinth.
But without love, what is it? It is not just diminished; it is re-categorized entirely. It is not communication; it is irritation. It is a "noisy gong or a clanging cymbal." In the ancient world, these were not musical instruments in the way we think of them. They were used in pagan worship to create a loud, jarring, attention-getting racket. The sound was not intended to be beautiful or melodic; it was intended to be startling and percussive. Paul's point is devastating. Your angelic eloquence, your Spirit-filled speech, if it is not animated by genuine, self-giving love for the brethren, is nothing more than religious noise pollution. It is the spiritual equivalent of a car alarm going off in the middle of the night. It accomplishes nothing but to grate on the nerves.
This is a direct assault on any form of Christianity that values performance over personhood. It is a rebuke to any preacher who is more concerned with his oratorical flair than with the flock he is feeding. It is a warning to any worship leader more captivated by the sound he is making than the Savior he is proclaiming. All spiritual giftedness, particularly verbal giftedness, must be the vehicle for love. If it is not, it is just an empty vessel making a loud noise. It is a clanging advertisement for its own emptiness.
Supernatural Power Without Love is Nothingness (v. 2)
Paul then moves from the ecstatic gifts to the revelatory and miraculous gifts, and he raises the stakes even higher.
"And if I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing." (1 Corinthians 13:2 LSB)
Again, he presents a series of staggering hypotheticals. First, prophecy, knowledge, and mysteries. Imagine a man with the prophetic insight of an Isaiah, the theological depth of an Apostle Paul, and a grasp of all divine mysteries. Imagine someone who could diagram the entire plan of redemption from eternity past to eternity future, who understood the intricacies of eschatology, and who could answer every theological conundrum. This is not just being smart; this is supernatural, Spirit-given knowledge.
Then he adds to it "all faith, so as to remove mountains." He is alluding directly to the words of Jesus. This is miracle-working faith. This is the kind of faith that sees a physical mountain, commands it to be cast into the sea, and it obeys. This is raw, supernatural power. So we have a man who is a theological giant and a spiritual titan, capable of reshaping the very landscape with a word of faith.
What is the divine verdict on such a man, if he does not have love? The verdict is not that he is "less effective" or "imbalanced." The verdict is far more brutal. "I am nothing." The Greek is stark: outhen eimi. I am a zero. A nullity. A non-entity. My prophetic insight is nothing. My theological knowledge is nothing. My mountain-moving faith is nothing. I myself am nothing.
This is a profound statement about spiritual identity. God does not measure a man by the size of his gifts, but by the presence of His love. You can have a massive ministry, a library of published books, and a reputation for signs and wonders, but if you are not loving your wife, if you are harsh with your children, if you are arrogant and dismissive toward your brothers and sisters in the church, then in God's economy, you have not just failed. You are a spiritual void. Your entire enterprise is a magnificent, decorated, mountain-moving nothing.
Radical Sacrifice Without Love is Unprofitable (v. 3)
Finally, Paul considers the most extreme acts of piety and self-sacrifice imaginable.
"And if I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I surrender my body to be burned, but do not have love, it profits me nothing." (1 Corinthians 13:3 LSB)
First, he posits an act of ultimate philanthropy. "If I give all my possessions to feed the poor." This is not just tithing. This is liquidating everything. This is selling the house, the car, the retirement fund, every last asset, and distributing it to the needy. This is the kind of radical generosity that would get you written up in Christian magazines. It is the very definition of sacrificial giving.
Second, he posits an act of ultimate martyrdom. "If I surrender my body to be burned." In the ancient world, burning was a horrific and shameful way to die. This is not just dying for your faith; this is embracing the most agonizing form of execution for the cause of Christ. It is the ultimate testimony, the final, full measure of devotion.
So here we have a man who is the model of charity and the paragon of courage. What could possibly be wrong with this? Paul's answer is that even these ultimate acts, if divorced from love, are spiritually bankrupt. "It profits me nothing." The language here is that of the marketplace. There is no spiritual gain. No reward. No benefit. It is a bad investment.
This is perhaps the most searching and unsettling of the three verses. It is possible to perform the most extreme acts of external righteousness for reasons other than love. One could give away all his possessions out of pride, to be seen as righteous by others. One could go to the stake out of a grim sense of duty, or even out of a stubborn refusal to back down, without a heart of love for the Christ who is being honored or the people who are watching. God does not just see the act; He sees the motive. And if the motive is not love, the act, no matter how spectacular, is written off in the ledgers of heaven. It does not profit the soul one bit.
Conclusion: The Logic of the Gospel
What Paul is doing here is establishing the absolute priority of love. He is not saying that gifts, knowledge, faith, and sacrifice are bad things. He is saying that they are only good things when they are animated by, and in the service of, love. Love is the engine; everything else is the caboose. Love is the motivation; everything else is the method.
And this is nothing other than the logic of the gospel itself. Why did God give His only Son? Not because He wanted to display His power, though it did. Not because He wanted to demonstrate His knowledge, though it did. He did it "For God so loved the world" (John 3:16). The entire plan of salvation is driven by the love of God. Why did Christ go to the cross? "Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends" (John 15:13). The cross is the ultimate act of love.
Therefore, when we are called to be Christians, we are called to be people of love. This is the defining mark of a true disciple. Jesus said, "By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another" (John 13:35). He did not say they will know you by your tongues, or your prophecies, or your philanthropy. They will know you by your love.
This means we must constantly be examining our own hearts. It is easy to get caught up in doing things for God. It is easy to get busy in ministry, to study theology, to fight for the truth. These are all good things. But we must ask the question Paul forces upon us. Why are we doing it? Is it for our own reputation? Is it out of a sense of loveless duty? Is it to win arguments? Or is it fueled by a genuine, self-forgetful, God-given love for God and for our neighbor? If it is not, then our busiest and most impressive days are nothing but a noisy gong. Our most profound insights make us nothing. And our greatest sacrifices profit us nothing. May God deliver us from a loveless orthodoxy and grant us a faith that works through love.