The Greatest Of These

A study in 1 Cor.13.13
Part 3. "lf I......have not love"

It might seem, at first sight, in a casual reading of the Apostle's words that all the "other things" here contrasted with Love were nothing more than items in the list of spiritual gifts imparted to the members of the Corinthian Church. To one was "given...the word of wisdom, to another the word of knowledge...to another faith...to another the gifts of healing...to another the working of miracles…to another interpretation of tongues". (1 Cor.12.8-10). Of this list Paul singles out the "tongues, the prophecy, the knowledge and the faith" for comparison with the Agape. But he also goes outside that list, and brings into the comparison one thing which was never a feature of Church life and experience either in Corinth or elsewhere. No follower of the Lord was ever taught to give his body to be burned. That was always an abomination in the sight of God. The inclusion of even this one feature of heathen practice is a sure indication that Paul was not restricting his survey merely to the "Charismata". Additionally, as already indicated, his inclusion of the "musterion" and the "gnosis" proves beyond question that his mind is travelling over a wider field. That being so, a wider meaning is also given to "the tongues"—"the tongues of men and angels". These are not merely the mechanical utterances of men in a state of ecstasy, while under immediate control of the Holy Spirit, but utterances of the noblest kind, such as even angels might bring.

For many years conceited men had been claiming they held solutions to the universal mysteries: during that same period able men had charmed the ears of their contemporaries with language of great beauty and excellence. Of these able men Plato and Aristotle are outstanding examples—Plato writing of things religious and poetic, while Aristotle wrote in a more scientific way. Again, a speaker of rare excellence addressed himself in such a way to the Greeks that his speeches were preserved and today find acceptance as models of all that a good speech should be. From these men came some noble thoughts, expressed in words of great beauty and charm. These were but three of a greater number whose works contributed each its quota to the "glory that was Greece".

Paul had been censured by members of the Corinthian Church—men who had previously acquired acquaintance with the philosophies of Plato and Aristotle, and the linguistic charm of Demosthenes—for the sparcity of his philosophy and the poverty of his language. He had entered in among them "in weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling" (1 Cor.2.3). He had shunned the use of "enticing words" arising from man's wisdom. He made no claim to be heard because he spoke with "tongues of men and angels". He had determined not to be enmeshed in their tangles of philosophy, but to know one thing only while in their midst—and that should be "Christ and Him crucified". That Gospel he had preached, and that Gospel had been believed by some of them. (1 Cor.15.1).

Having been judged at the bar of philosophy and eloquence by these philosophic critics, Paul, with consummate skill, turns the tables upon them and assures them indirectly that the things they had doted upon were of no greater value than the sound emitted by a sheet of brass when struck by another metallic substance. Plato and Aristotle with all their compatriots had only filled the air with sound, with the clanging din of controversy. And throughout the long years, to this very day, the din of battle between the romanticists—the Platonists—and the realists—the Aristotelians—has continued to fill the air with the mere sound of clanging brass. How sharp is the irony therefore, and yet how beautifully tempered is its sting when Paul turns back upon his human-minded critics to say "Though I (should) speak with the tongues of men and angels and have not 'Agape' I (too) am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal". Applied directly to the "enticing" sons of Greece the barb would have made a rankling sore, applied to himself the shaft went home but left no wound.

Seen in this light the philosophic wisdom and classic eloquence of Greece may be subjected to a more searching analysis than the Corinthian brethren ever dreamed of. And to the ancient philosophy we may add that of all the intervening years. In this summarisation of the world's philosophies, and of its golden speech, no word of disparagement is intended here. The Dantes and the Chaucers, the Miltons and the Shakespeares, with all their literary companions of every clime and tongue, have left to the world a great inheritance. Without their inspiration the world would have been a poorer place. Their spate of thought, embosomed in their flood of words, has helped to open channels from the jungle to the university. And when to the flash or genius the touch of simple faith could add its sanctifying influence the gain to men has been great indeed.

Had the purpose of Almighty God been merely to embellish human character surely these are the men to whom the task might have been allocated. If culture alone could have brought in the "perfect state", these, together with the sweet singers of Israel, could have been the Divine instruments to that end. They have ennobled thought, and refined speech; they have sifted motive, and analysed intent, and thereby helped humankind to think on nobler things. But when all is said that can be said, it fails to meet this old earth's deepest need. It educates the mind but cannot renovate the heart. The polished surface may conceal corruption within. Beneath the shining veneer may be dry-rot of the soul. The thing that Paul has to place against the world's philosophies is not a mere compendium of thought, not a galaxy of lovely words, but the Mighty Helping Hand of God. The purpose of his ministry was not to embellish the mere minds of men, but to appraise men of a Sacrifice for sin. He knew a secret which the philosophers had failed to learn. They knew not how to vanquish sin and death. Despite all their wise philosophy, sin reigned throughout the world, and death continued to reign by sin, and nothing they had done, or might hope to do, could lift this burden from Adam's race. But Paul knew and understood that there was something, better far than all the hopes and dreams and fears of little men, that would eradicate sin, overcome death, and make a way for that which is "perfect" to come.

Considerations such as this show that Paul is not setting forth "The Agape" merely as a growth or adornment of Christian character, but as the vital redeeming and moulding power that can accomplish that which all the world's wisdom and philosophy has failed to do. That the world's superstitious systems have failed to inform and elevate its millions, needs not to be stressed; it is but too obvious. But that its best philosophers and sweetest singers have also failed is a truth that does need driving home. And that there is but one Heavenly attribute that can accomplish all that is required to set men up on the "perfect" plane needs to be stressed with might and main over and over again.

But before we venture to analyse that supreme attribute there is one more phase of human activity to consider. The world's philanthropists and humanitarians—those who bestowed their goods to feed the poor—have been a band of noble men. "Give to the poor" was the text imposed by Jesus upon the questioning nobleman. "The poor ye have always with you" said the Master, and an open door has always faced the world's philanthropists. But what have they done to mitigate the world's necessities—to meet its incessant needs? A moment's satisfaction may have followed the opening of their hands—and all honour be to them for the gracious act—but with the setting sun the need has imposed itself again. The houses run by Charity may start a thousand—or a hundred thousand—on the rungs of life, but what are they among the teeming millions of the world? The fortune of a Rothschild is but as a crumb when measured up against a world's dire need. We need not over-stress the obvious—but simply reiterate the words of Paul—"though I give all my goods to feed the poor...and have not love, it profiteth, me nothing".

Here is a conclusion deep enough to make men think. "If I...have not love, I am nothing...it profiteth me nothing." Without "The Agape" all activity, all philosophy is as nothing and profiteth nothing! Surely we can see here that Paul is speaking from a different stand-point than that of this present phase of human life! Many of these things have counted for "something" when measured up against man's present transient fleeting life. There have been seasons of enjoyment and periods of relief, resulting from human-kind's best attainments. But measured up against the restoration of all that the "perfect" man once lost, and the life that he then will know, what are all the hopes and fears, the dreams and aspirations of all the world's sagest philosophies though couched in the world's sublimest words? Just "nothing"—and profiting nothing!

Again we have to say that only a "Something" that can seep down into man's sin-soured heart can meet the universal need. Only help from God is adequate to sweeten and restore the heart and the affections it can twine around the hand of its Restorer.

(To be concluded)

TH