1 Corinthians 13
LenskiCHAPTER XIII
II. The Better Way—Love. Chapter 13
Gregory Nazianzen, one of the three celebrated Cappadocians of the fourth century, a defender of the Nicene faith, and one of the most celebrated orators of the early church, writes in regard to this chapter on love that here we may read what Paul said about Paul. It is true: only a man in whose heart the Spirit of God has kindled a faith like Paul’s could evidence a love like Paul’s and on the basis of his own experience of that love record its glories in what may be called the Psalm of Love. Paul’s own heart lies open before us in this chapter. Here is the motive power, faith working through love, that sent him over land and sea to preach to others the unsearchable riches of Christ. Here is the inner power that sustained him amid all his labors, burdens, trials, sufferings, persecutions. Here is what made him rise superior to hunger and hardship, false friends and bitter foes, bodily infirmity and dangers of death.
We cannot understand this man save as we understand his faith and its fruit of Christian love. All of his great joys and abilities, his high and holy office, his exalted position in the church, his stupendous task and his astounding success—all of them are what they are and what they came to be because of his love. This we must realize when he tells the Corinthians that besides his instruction on the spiritual gifts themselves he now shows them the inner, spiritual power that must energize all of these gifts if they are to be of real benefit to the church.
1 Corinthians 13:1
1 If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels yet have not love I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. When a man who has his own heart full of love writes about love he is apt to use a personal touch; so in these opening verses Paul uses the first person “I.” “He passes the judgment by way of example upon himself: that if he were such a person, in order the more to startle others.” Luther. Paul has the condition of expectancy in the first three verses, ἐάν with the subjunctive, not because he expected this condition sometime to be fulfilled in himself, but in order to present this supposition in a vivid and realistic form for strong rhetorical effect.
To “speak with the tongues of men” is to use other tongues, languages, or dialects which the speaker has never learned. So the apostles and others spoke at the time of Pentecost. See the exposition on “tongues” in 12:10. These manifestations, like miracles, etc., were signs and were not intended to be exhibited in the ordinary work of preaching and teaching. Because the Corinthians placed too high a value on “tongues,” Paul, who lists this gift at the end in 12:10, 30, here considers it first.
The addition tongues “of angels” outbids what the Corinthians know in this line. When angels speak to men they use human language, but Daniel, John in Revelation, and Paul himself when he was caught up to Paradise heard unutterable things. Perhaps we may say that they actually heard the tongues of angels as they speak in heaven. Paul puts the thought into the superlative, beyond which it is impossible for a creature to go: Suppose that I as the Lord’s apostle have the highest possible gift of tongues, those that men use, and those even that angels use—how you Corinthians would admire, even envy me and desire to have an equal gift!
We cannot assume that Paul is writing only hypothetically when he refers to “tongues of angels,” for this would conflict with his evident purpose, namely to show that love must animate all, even the highest gifts. All else that Paul writes about angels shows them to be real, and so their language is real. There is no difficulty in the plural γλῶσσαι as it is here used with reference to men and with reference to angels, for the singular (14:2, 4, 13, 14, 18, 19) is used interchangeably with the plural (14:5, 39) when this kind of speaking is designated. Whoever spoke thus used some one tongue or language and not a number of them at the same time. Paul’s supposition is this: if the entire range of languages, including even the language of the angels, were given me so that on one occasion I could speak in this, on another occasion in that language. The plural “tongues” as here used in no way compels us to think that the angels in heaven speak a number of languages.
The unreality of Paul’s supposition lies in the general assumption as such. Paul did have this gift to a high degree, 14:18, but he could speak only in some foreign human languages and not by any means in all of them and not at all in the language of the angels. What he here supposes is the ability to use any and every language including that of heaven. He extends the gift to its utmost height, beyond what it ever was or could be. “Yet if I have not love,” even this supreme gift would be all in vain as far as God’s purpose in the bestowal is concerned.
Here we have the theme of the entire chapter: ἀγάπη, “love.” The following description shows that love to men is meant, but this in its widest range. And ἀγάπη is much deeper than φιλία or the love of mere affection and personal liking or attachment. While the term is not unknown among pagan writers, the sense which we have given it is native only to the Scriptures, chiefly the New Testament. It points to a love that patterns after God’s love. It always implies that love is directed by spiritual intelligence and that it aims at accomplishing a corresponding spiritual purpose. Only where there is faith in the heart is this love ever found, for it springs from this root alone. No pagan writer could possibly use the word in this spiritual sense.
God loved the world. It was a vile world reeking with sin. He could not draw it to his bosom and kiss it (this would be φιλία) because all of this foulness permeated its very nature. When God turned his love (ἀγάπη) upon the world he realized all of the world’s vileness (intelligence) and in love, by sending his Son and the gospel, determined to save, cleanse, and purify the world (purpose). Thus did God love.
We are to love even our enemies. Yet they are full of the vileness of hate. Can we put our arms about them and kiss them? They would repulse us and revile us. But our love can see their awful condition (intelligence) and can seek to overcome and to remove it by showing them only kindness and patience (purpose). Like the world, they may or may not allow this purpose of love to be attained. Yet this is what love to our enemies means. Where this love does attain this its purpose, for instance, where God wins men from their sins, or where our enemies become our brethren, this love goes right on with its intelligence and changes the latter to accord with the new and happy relation.
When love is wholly absent, we know that its root, namely faith, is also dead. Yet μὴἔχω, “have not love,” includes also all cases when believers speak because they are prompted by the pride of the flesh or by some other sinful motive and thus “have not love.” Even though it be the highest type of miraculous speaking, yet when love is dead or dormant or inactive, “I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal.” The verb γέγονα is placed forward for the sake of emphasis. Here the perfect tense implies more than the usual present condition; it indicates that despite all of the past advantages and all of my wonderful gift, I am after all nothing more than a strident, empty sound. Even miraculous speech is nothing, as far as the speaker is concerned, without love.
“Brass” is used in manufacturing trumpets and horns, and this produces powerful, penetrating sounds, which are indicated by ἠχῶν, “sounding” or resounding. Cymbals clash or clang when they are struck together. Their sound is even imitated in the neuter participle ἀλαλάζον, which is derived from the verb denoting a battle cry and more generally any loud cry of joy or pain. The terms themselves and also the repetition of the figures denote sound to the superlative degree and thus correspond well with the superlative idea expressed in tongues of men and of angels. Although all such superlative speaking was ranked by the Corinthians as the very highest kind of a gift, it would be nothing but an empty, tremendous noise—if it remained without love.
While the gift would still remain as a sign (14:22), and the interpretation of the prayer or the praise spoken would still benefit the hearers, the person himself who speaks without love would be no better than a lifeless brass instrument which someone else causes to sound or to ring. The idea that another is the real speaker when the gift of tongues is exercised underlies the comparison with brass musical instruments. The idea is also prominent that the gift itself is really only an instrument that is intended to be used with love, for a higher purpose, and not merely for the gratification of pride or for ostentation. We may apply this thought to the gift of eloquence and oratory and to that of a beautiful voice in song.
1 Corinthians 13:2
2 In a cumulative way, with increasing and finally overwhelming effect, Paul heaps up these καὶεάν clauses, using two in this verse, and another two in the next. And if I have prophecy and know all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith so as to transfer mountains, yet have not love, I am nothing. Two gifts are now placed side by side, and both are made superlative. Moreover, both exceed what has been said in the first verse. Paul’s material is so abundant that he dispenses it with both hands.
We have discussed “prophecy” in connection with 12:10, 28. This is a higher gift than speaking with tongues although it is well to recall that God is able to use some very unworthy persons for the purpose of prophesying: Balaam, King Saul, and Caiaphas (John 11:51). Paul seeks the superlative in prophecy and secures it by adding “all mysteries and all knowledge,” for which the appropriate verb is inserted, εἰδῶ (R. 1215, εἰδέω and εἴδω): “and see, perceive, and thus know.” The words that designate the two objects are so placed in the Greek that the two adjectives “all” appear side by side and thus become more emphatic. The statement is cumulative: 1) prophecy; 2) plus all mysteries; 3) plus all knowledge. For one may be a prophet and yet know very few mysteries; and yet again, even if one knew all mysteries he might yet lack volumes of other knowledge that is not included in mysteries. The three concepts, however, belong to one general class, the mark of which is really to know in contrast with mere utterance as it appears in the gift of tongues.
In order to catch the full force of the superlative which Paul uses for knowledge in this conditional sentence we must ask: “What prophet ever knew all of the mysteries that are involved in God’s plans of grace and of providence, to say nothing about countless lesser mysteries? And then the territory that lies outside of mysteries, that of ‘knowledge’ in its widest sweep, millions of facts and their correlation—what prophet ever covered all of this territory?” Paul intends to carry the supposition beyond the bounds of human possibility, and more so in this verse than in v. 1 (tongues of angels), for only by placing the gift so high can he make us understand to the full what the absence of love really means. There is little difference in force whether the article is used: πᾶσαντὴνγνῶσιν, “all knowledge,” or whether it is omitted: πάσῃγνώσει, “every knowledge,” as in 1:5. “There is an element of freedom in the matter” for the writer, R. 772, so that in both instances we may translate “all knowledge.”
First only the tongue; then the head and knowledge and this combined with faith. “All faith” includes everything that can be termed faith, but, as we see at once from the addition, not “faith” in the sense of saving trust in Christ, for he who has that has the true root of all love and could never be οὑθέν, “nothing.” The faith referred to is mentioned by Jesus in Matt. 7:22: “Lord, Lord, have we not … in thy name cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works?” Yet the Lord rejects these people. However strange it may seem to us that men should speak with tongues, should actually prophesy, should even have miracle-working faith without saving faith and its product love, the fact stands nevertheless. It was possible for nominal members of the church to possess and to use certain spiritual gifts. This anomaly is the basis of our entire chapter. Love, which is more precious and wonderful than all gifts, alone makes the gifts precious possessions to those who have them.
Paul again supposes the superlative “all faith” and combines this with the supreme specimens of its work: “so as to transfer mountains,” μεθιστάνειν, compare Matt. 17:20; 21:21. This proverbial expression is plainly figurative and describes “faith” as being able to perform seeming impossibilities, to remove mountains of obstacles, win astounding victories such as Gideon’s, accomplish wonderful tasks. But however great this “faith” and its mighty works may be, without love it not only amounts to nothing for me, even I myself “am nothing,” οὑδέ plus ἕν, “not one thing.” Men may admire, honor, elevate me, the inner essential of personal value is gone, its place is a vacuum. Whatever good I may do for the church with this astounding gift is no mark of my own value and no credit to my own person. The Lord’s verdict has already been pronounced: “I never knew you,” Matt. 7:23. Here there is light on much of the learning, philosophy, science, and great achievements of today as they are found outside of Christ, saving faith, and Christian love although they are the accomplishments of nominal church members.
1 Corinthians 13:3
3 A third comparison rounds out the entire thought. Paul has thus far spoken about gifts without dwelling on a particular exercise of them. Now he adds voluntary deeds of apparent unselfishness, yea, of self-sacrifice. And if I feed all my possessions away, and if I deliver my body over in order that I be burned, yet have not love, I profit nothing.
The verb ψωμίζω means to feed by placing morsels of food into the mouth and then in general to divide and parcel out. The personal object is usually mentioned; our versions supply “the poor,” yet Paul omits the object. We may think of an Ananias and a Sapphira who actually give their all but have not love. Luther writes: “To give is, indeed, a fruit of love though not yet love itself. Love is a spiritual gift which moves the heart and not only the hands. Love is the name, not for what the hand does, but for what the heart feels.” The works of love are thus often imitated by those who have no love and yet desire to enjoy the praise of love.
Here again a companion piece is introduced, and once more a superlative, namely an extreme case of self-sacrifice: “if I deliver my body over in order that I be burned.” The idea usually connected with this burning is that of martyrdom by fire. The difficulty connected with this interpretation is the fact that we have no record of an instance of this kind of martyrdom occurring during Paul’s time. Various conjectures are offered to aid us, namely that Paul may be thinking of Dan. 3:19, etc., or of 2 Macc. 7, or of the torturing of witnesses by means of glowing-tin, which Seneca calls ignis. But Paul speaks about himself, and he was a Roman citizen, and these were not tortured at all. This statement applies also to him as a possible martyr—as a Roman he could not be executed by burning.
Other cases of voluntary burning such as that of the Indian sophist who accompanied Alexander, of another Indian at Athens, and of Proteus at Olympia are sporadic and conflict with Paul’s thought because these men merely despised life and threw it away with stoic indifference; they merely committed spectacular suicide. Paul pictures an act of supreme self-sacrifice that is made with a pretense of love for others, it is a companion piece to the giving away of all possessions. Since Paul speaks hypothetically in both instances, and since we know about no actual cases of either kind, it seems best to abide by the hypotheses and to go no farther. Both are suppositions of an extreme action and no more. These acts are apparently prompted by love yet in reality are not the result of love.
The form καυθήσωμαι is extensively discussed by the grammarians. The variant καυχήσωμαι: “in order that I may glory,” does not deserve enough attention to earn a place in the margin of the R. V. It ruins the thought, for self-glory is a decided evidence of the lack of love for others. Although it is found in three important texts (Aleph, A, and B) and in some of lesser importance, it ought to be discarded. This leaves καυθήσωμαι and καυθήσομαι, both of which are merely future indicatives. The long and the short ο were used interchangeably in a few indicative forms, R. 200, etc.; also 324. We agree with B.-D. 28 in rejecting the Byzantine future subjunctive for this passage, which R. 876, 1216 willingly accepts on the strength of the use of the long vowel.
For the third time, like a refrain, comes the addition: “yet have not love.” This is the one constant amid the variants of gifts, abilities, and deeds. This constant is decisive, all else is not. Let what I do be ever so sublime, without love “I profit nothing.” Here there is another step in the gradation: first, the gift itself is likened to the sound of brass; next, the man who has the gifts is said to be nothing; finally, any credit or profit that might come to him from God for his deeds is declared nothing. “O how many marks of immortal human fame are mortal before God and do not follow their doers because they have not been made alive by immortal love!” Besser. The inside of many a deed is different from the outside, and God always lifts the cover, yea, for his eyes no cover exists.
In this first part of Paul’s chapter on love he establishes Love’s Supreme Value by showing how nothing avails without it. The greatest gifts and the grandest deeds together with all their greatness and their grandness are nothing, make us nothing, and bring us nothing if love be absent. Solemn and deep the dull refrain runs through these verses: “yet have not love,” and not a syllable is changed. A narrowing downward also appears as we proceed: one might easily speak with tongues and yet lack love; he might less easily know all mysteries, etc., and be without love; and least of all do we expect kind acts and self-sacrifice without at least some love. When it comes to writing so as to put the richest thought into every word and clause, inspiration forever exceeds what human genius can do. While these three verses are negative in form they, nevertheless, imply a corresponding affirmative thought, namely that with love present in the heart all gifts and all works become the treasures which God intends them to be for their possessor.
1 Corinthians 13:4
4 First, love absent; now, love present; hence also we three times have the subject ἡἀγάπη. The Greek idiom, like the German, can use the article with abstract nouns. If, as Paul shows, love has such immense value, what really is love? Instead of attempting a definition Paul gives us a rich description. By being placed before our eyes in what it does and does not do this mother of all virtues is made known to us. When we see love thus, its value appears anew, but from a different angle, namely that of its own characteristic features.
Paul personifies love. Olshausen says that he does this because love is never perfectly represented in any one individual Christian. So this photograph of love is given us in order that we may hold it alongside of our love to see whether the two are as exactly alike as they ought to be.
Love suffers long, is benignant; love envies not; love vaunts not itself, is not puffed up, acts not unseemly, seeks not its own, is not provoked; takes no account of the bad; rejoices not over unrighteousness but rejoices with the truth; suffers all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
The love which Paul describes goes out to our brethren and to our fellow men. “Love suffers long.” This first stroke of the brush shows that we are to be given a portrait of Christian love as it finds itself amid the sins, evils, and trials of a fallen world. Trench distinguishes μακροθυμία as referring to persons from ὑπομονή as referring to things. In the Scriptures “long-suffering” has to do with injurious persons and does not let their ignorant, mean, or malicious actions arouse the resentment and the anger which they deserve.
“Endurance,” ὑπομονή (see ὑπομένει in v. 7) deals with trials under which it bears up with noble courage. Only “longsuffering,” μακροθυμία, and never ὑπομονή is naturally ascribed also to God. Men may resist and antagonize God and thus arouse him to anger. When he withholds his anger he “suffers long.” Mere things cannot arouse God; trials, tribulations, persecutions do not apply to God, hence he cannot manifest ὑπομονή, literally, “remaining under.” When Paul thus names the ability to suffer long as the first feature of love, we should note that this is a Godlike feature. The world is full of evil men, and even in our brethren much evil meets us. When this evil strikes us, and our natural reaction would be resentment, indignation, anger, bitter words, blows perhaps, then love steps in, “suffers long,” keeps calm, endures, and does this continually no matter how long the offense may persist.
Paired with this more passive side of love is a corresponding active side: love “is benignant,” χρηστεύεται, shows its possessor to be χρηστός, useful, helpful, friendly. Trench remarks that this benignitas was predominantly the character of Christ’s ministry, which dispensed deeds of gentle kindness among all the lowly and the needy with whom he came in contact. Thus to Godlike “longsuffering” there is added Christlike “benignity.”
Paul does not describe love to us in the role of performing great, wonderful, and astounding deeds; he prefers to show us how the inner heart of love looks when it is placed among sinful men and weak and needy brethren. He does not picture love in ideal surroundings of friendship and affection where each individual embraces and kisses the other but in the hard surroundings of a bad world and a faulty church where distressing influences bring out the positive power and value of love.
There now follows a list of negatives, the last of which is paired with its opposite “rejoices not … but rejoices.” “Love envies not,” οὑζηλοῖ (from ζέω, to seethe), is without selfish zeal, the passion of jealousy and envy. The term is used also in a noble sense with reference to honorable emulation, but in the New Testament it is used only in the ignoble sense. When love sees another prosperous, rich, high, gifted it is pleased and glad of his advantages. Love never detracts from the praise that is due another nor tries to make him seem less and self seem more by comparison. The practice of the world is the opposite. The negatives used in Paul’s description suggest corresponding positives. Instead of being envious love is satisfied with its own portion and glad of another’s greater portion.
A natural companion to lack of envy is lack of boasting: “love vaunts not itself,” οὑπερπερύεται, it never becomes a πέρπερος, a braggard. The very idea is foreign to its humble nature.
Behind boastful bragging there lies conceit, an overestimation of one’s own importance, abilities, or achievements. Hence the next step: “is not puffed up.” From envy to boasting, from boasting to puffing oneself up is a natural sequence in the psychology of love-lessness. He that exalteth himself shall be abased; he that humbleth himself shall be exalted. Thus in this case the positive virtue is Christian humility and lowliness of mind.
Paul has mentioned being puffed up repeatedly in 4:6, 18, 19; 5:2; 8:1. Yet the conclusion which some draw, that Paul’s description of love, especially its negative side, is derived from manifestations which he found among the Corinthians, is too narrow. Paul describes love as it really is with all of its main characteristic features. Even if Corinth had not existed, every line of this description would be true. In regard to some points, where we know the loveless tendencies of the Corinthians, we see these very tendencies contradicted by Paul’s picture of love. These applications are, however, only incidental and may in a similar way be made to any other congregation and do not as such dominate the picture here sketched.
1 Corinthians 13:5
5 The next link in the chain is that love “acts not unseemly,” οὑἀσχημονεῖ, contrary to the σχῆμα, form, fashion, or manner that is proper. When pride puffs up the heart, unseemly bearing and conduct naturally follow. Tactlessness forgets its own place and fails to accord to others their proper dues of respect, honor, or consideration. Love is forgetful of self and thoughtful toward others. Paul himself is a good example. No matter where he might find himself, among friends or foes, before people or before rulers and kings, he always knew how to act as became his station and the position into which he was placed. “Who taught this tentmaker such noble and beautiful manners, such perfect tact in all his bearing, that even the great in this world were compelled to respect him?” Besser thus points to the positive feature suggested by Paul’s negative statement, the propriety of bearing and conduct. See Trench regarding σχῆμα.
The proper bearing of love is due to its genuine unselfishness, for love “seeks not its own,” the things that belong to oneself, one’s own pleasure, profit, honor, etc. True love is always unselfish. How easily said, how hard to attain! Selfishness lies at the root of a thousand evils and sins in the world and in the church: between rich and poor, capital and labor, nation and nation, man and man, church member and church member. Cure selfishness, and you plant a Garden of Eden. As when one draws a beautiful face and makes one feature after another stand out until the eyes at last light up the whole and give it complete expression, so in this portrait of love the inspired artist paints the eyes full of unselfishness, seeking in every glance not their own but that which is another’s.
Yes, this is love: no envy, no boasting, no pride, no unseemliness because it is altogether unselfish. Not for self (negative) = for others (positive).
If we bear in mind this trait of unselfishness we shall the better understand the next feature: “is not provoked,” οὑπαροξύνεται (our word “paroxysm”), is not embittered or enraged by abuse, wrong, insult, injury. While love treats others with kindness, consideration, unselfishness it, in turn, receives much of the opposite. Paul’s life was full of such experience especially from his brethren in the flesh who ought to have especially loved him. He did not accuse them, Acts 28:19; he did the opposite: “Bless them which persecute you,” Rom. 12:14. Instead of vicious outbursts (negative) he entertained good wishes and gave blessings (positive).
Closely connected with this attitude is the following: “love takes no account of the “evil,” οὑλογίζεταιτὸκακόν. “Thinketh no bad” in the A. V. misses the sense of the verb and overlooks the article: “the evil,” the baseness or meanness which is inflicted upon us; not ‘evil” as it inheres in our own minds and hearts. This pairs with the preceding characteristic. This also explains the verb. Love keeps no account book for the entry of wrongs on the debit side which are eventually to be balanced on the credit side with payments received when satisfaction is obtained for these wrongs. Love forgets to charge any wrong done to itself.
It is neither enraged at the moment, nor does it hold a grudge in vindictiveness afterward. Chrysostom has well said: “As a spark falls into the sea and does not harm the sea, so harm may be done to a loving soul and is soon quenched without disturbing the soul.” We ought to note that οὑλογίζεσθαι is the very verb used to describe the pardoning act of God: he does not impute to us our guilt, Ps. 32:2; Rom. 4:8; 2 Cor. 5:19; but imputes to us righteousness for Christ’s sake, Rom. 4; 6–11; 22–25; James 2:23.
1 Corinthians 13:6
6 In fact, love has no pleasure in wrong at all: it “rejoices not over unrighteousness.” In τὸκακόν the quality of meanness in the act itself is exposed; in ἡἀδικία the quality that runs counter to the norm of divine right, God’s δίκη. Thus God’s verdict stands against the act; he pronounces it unrighteous. Anything that is wrong in God’s sight grieves a heart that is full of love, not merely because the wrong hurts the one to whom it is done, but especially because God is displeased with the wrong and must punish the wrongdoer. Instead of rejoicing over the wrong (negative) love grieves over the wrong (positive).
For this last link in the negative statements Paul himself supplies the positive counterpart: love “rejoices with the truth,” not “in the truth,” A. V. It is evident that the verbs are opposites: “rejoice not”—“rejoice with”; but it is not so evident that “unrighteousness” and “truth” are also opposites. Paul has more of these surprising opposites; this is due to the penetration of his thinking. Compare Rom. 2:8: they that disobey the truth but obey unrighteousness. “Truth” is the gospel verity, the divine, saving reality. Where unrighteousness prevails truth is of necessity absent.
Unrighteousness prevails where the heart has pleasure in it, loves it, and thus rejoices in it. There the love that Paul describes is absent. But where the heart “rejoices with the truth,” embraces it gladly, finds pleasure in possessing it, there unrighteousness is driven out.
Paul’s theme, ἡἀγάπη, deals with the ethical side of gospel truth, i.e., with the conduct that rests on the saving reality of Christ and the gospel. This love finds pleasure in every progress which truth makes in the hearts of men, namely in every bit of their conduct which shows that they love and obey this truth. Thus we see how love grieves over unrighteousness but rejoices with the truth. Yet σύν in the verb does not personify the truth as if truth itself rejoices and love associated itself with truth in this rejoicing. The preposition indicates sympathetic inclination, and the dative “with the truth” is the object toward which this sympathetic joy inclines.
1 Corinthians 13:7
7 After the negative Paul now makes some positive statements. Yet these negatives and these positives are not merely grammatical. They are more. The former declare: “Nothing of this—nothing of this, etc.”; then the latter exclaim: “All of this—all of this, etc.” Thus Paul completes “the golden chain” of his praise of love, each jewel matches the next until the characterization is complete.
Love “suffers all things,” πάνταστέγει. In the classics this verb usually means “to cover,” “to fend off,” from which the meaning “to endure,” “to suffer” is derived as in 9:12 and in the present connection. The English “beareth all things” should not lead us to think of a load that is placed upon and held up by the arms of love. The figure has reference to enduring and quietly suffering inflictions. Love never complains that it is made to endure and to suffer too much; its capacity for suffering is very great. Remember all that the Lord’s love suffered.
Love “believes all things” and refuses to yield to suspicions of doubt. The flesh is ready to believe all things about a brother and a fellow man in an evil sense. Love does the opposite, it is confident to the last. Here and in the next statement πάντα is to be understood in the good sense: “all that is best,” while in the first and in the final statement “all” is to be taken in the bad sense: “all that is worst.” Thus the four “all” are placed chiastically. Luther writes in explanation of the Eighth Commandment: “Excuse him, speak well of him, and put the best construction on everything.”
Love “hopes all things.” This is, however, not the hope which is directed to God in expectation of all good gifts from him but the hope that is directed toward our brethren and our fellow men, which expects what is best from them. Paul hoped in the case of the obdurate Jews and ceased not his prayers and his labors. Hope knows no pessimism. Yet the basis for this hope of love is not mere natural optimism but the effective grace of Jesus Christ. Love always expects that grace to conquer and to win its way.
Finally, love “endures all things” in the sense of brave perseverance. “The man ὑπομένει, ‘endures,’ who under a great siege of trials bears up and does not lose heart and courage,” Trench. Etymologically this verb means “to remain under,” hence it is the opposite of φεύγειν, fleeing away and giving up in defeat. When we defined “longsuffering” we already saw that ὑπομονή refers to things and not to persons. We hold out under pain, injury, and the like.
In these four statements the inner power of love is revealed: her head is held high, her eye is bright and shining, her hand steady and true, her heart strong with strength from above. This love has rightly been called “the greatest thing in the world.” Paul does not describe love in its greatest works, sacrifices, martyrdoms, triumphs; he goes into the ordinary circumstances of life as we meet them day by day and shows us the picture of love as it must be under these. We find ready excuses when great things are made the goal of our attainment; Paul cuts off all such excuses. Be a true, everyday Christian in the exercise of love, then all great triumphs of love will take care of themselves. He who fails in the ordinary works of love will not even have an opportunity when the supreme moment for the performance of the extraordinary arrives.
1 Corinthians 13:8
8 First, it is love that lends value to gifts and to works; secondly, it is love that has its value in itself; and now thirdly, it is love that in value outranks all else. Or we may say that Paul shows the value of love 1) by its absence, 2) by its presence, 3) by comparison. Love is permanent, all else passes away. Thus love is the greatest.
Love never falls; but whether prophecies, they shall be done away; whether tongues, they shall cease; whether knowledge, it shall be done away. The verb used is πίπτει (some texts have ἐκπίπτει, “falls away”), “falls” so as to disappear and to be gone. Luther translates hoeret nimmer auf. “Without change of its inner essence love passes over into eternal joy because it is eternal life already in time,” Besser. And as love never ceases, so also “its operations, its life and blessings, its beauty and power,” Osiander.
The connective δέ is adversative and prevents us from translating: “Love never falls even if prophecies shall be done away,” etc. The verbs are omitted in the three protases. We may leave them out when we translate into English: “whether prophecies … whether tongues,” etc.; or we may insert them: “whether there are (not: be) prophecies,” etc. The “prophecies” are either the charismatic gifts themselves or the exercise of these gifts, actual acts of prophesying but not the facts or the truths prophesied, for they, too, endure. Even the conditional form: “whether there are prophecies,” etc., points to the temporary character of these gifts; for even now these gifts are at certain times withheld by the Spirit. But aside from temporary cessation the point will at last be reached when all of the instructive and the admonitory features of “prophecy” will no longer be needed, and when all of its revelatory phases will be fulfilled and will thus be superseded. Then all prophecies “shall be done away,” literally, shall be put out of commission by being rendered useless.
The gift of prophecy is certainly wonderful, highly to be prized, altogether necessary for the church—think of the highest exponents of prophecy in the Old Testament and also of those in the New. Yet eventually there shall be no more prophets even of the lower type, those who only teach and admonish. The line of prophets will cease, and the work and the results of prophets will no longer be needed.
This is also true regarding “tongues,” this remarkable gift to the early church. Paul writes: “they shall cease,” stop, and they have, indeed, stopped long ago. The verb παύσονται is exactly suited to the subject. A speaker “pauses” and speaks no more; so tongues shall lapse into complete silence.
“Knowledge,” too, shall disappear, namely the intellectual gift of formulating, coordinating, and setting forth with clearness the divine truth so that men’s minds may grasp its contents, 12:8. This, too, is a gift which is intended to serve us only in our present imperfect state. With reference to this gift Paul uses the same verb which he had employed when he was speaking about prophecies: “shall be done away,” put out of commission because they are no longer serviceable. The least importance is attached to tongues, they shall just naturally turn into silence. Prophecies and knowledge are far more important and, as the same verb that is employed with reference to both shows, belong to the same class. God shall finally put them aside; he is the agent back of the two passive verbs.
Paul is speaking regarding the consummation when Christ shall return in glory, and when the kingdom of grace shall merge into the kingdom of glory. Then all need of prophets will cease and also all need of the revelations which they have made to us here below and of the instructions and the admonition which they gave us, for heaven itself will reveal all of its mysteries to us directly. Tongues and languages such as we know at present shall no longer be needed, for all of us shall understand and speak the perfect language of heaven. Study, reasoning, and learning will no longer be needed, for instead of this gift which was granted to only a few and on which the many depend the new earth shall be filled with the heavenly knowledge of the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the sea, Hab. 2:14. But love?—love shall not pass away with these, for it is not a possession that serves only earthly and temporal purposes.
1 Corinthians 13:9
9 For we know in part, and we prophesy in part; but when the complete shall come, that in part shall be done away. Here there is stated the reason that two of these gifts shall not and cannot endure. Other reasons might be added, but this one is all-sufficient for the apostle’s purpose. The tongues are not again mentioned, which is an indication that they are on a far lower plane although the Corinthians would rank them as being on a level with the other two and most certainly would value them higher than love. Tongues and languages in general as we know them here are evidently not to endure eternally. The penalty inflicted at Babel is not to be carried over into the other world.
As the mention of tongues is omitted, so in v. 8 Paul does not speak about the “faith” that he mentioned in v. 2. He would probably regard it as necessary to add a lengthy explanation in order to differentiate this “faith” from the one which he intends to mention at the end of his discussion. The phrase ἐκμέρους is placed forward for the sake of emphasis; it is the opposite of ἐκτοῦπαντός.
Our knowing is “in part,” partial, and thus inadequate. We never know with full comprehension, full penetration, complete mastery. In all our knowing there is something left that we do not know, a beyond to which our little brain and our intellectual ability do not reach. Knowledge attains a depth of miles, and our mind is a line that is only a few fathoms long; how can we hope to sound it?
This is also true with regard to prophesying. We constantly come to impassable barriers. Speculation tries to leap over them but fails to reach anything save uncertainties. Therefore, too, it is a prime theological and a Christian virtue to be satisfied with the limits which the Word sets for us, and never to try to go beyond them. Such a limitation seems humiliating to many, but their efforts to go beyond the limits set lead them only into bogs and swamps of error. Even many of the truths which the Scriptures present to us—how inadequately do we apprehend them intellectually: the Trinity, the Incarnation, the workings of providence, etc.!
Ever we arrive where Paul arrived in Rom. 11:33. This is true in regard to even the far lower domain of nature: we know only in part. What are matter, life, light, electricity, and a thousand other things? We know not what they are; we know only this or that about them. In the words of a noted scientist: Ignoramus, ignorabimus; we do not know, we shall not know. The pride of so many scientists is pricked and deflated by this little phrase “in part.”
Yet this discounting of knowledge and of prophecy is not to destroy the value of what we do know and what has been revealed to us. For to know God and Christ in faith is life eternal for us, John 17:3. But all of the forms of our earthly knowing and our prophesying of spiritual things serve only an earthly and a temporal purpose. Both shall eventually be vastly surpassed.
1 Corinthians 13:10
10 This shall occur “when the complete shall come.” That is τέλειον which has reached the τέλος or goal in comparison with what is still undeveloped or on the way. Here the incomplete state in which we now live forms the contrast. We are able to know and to prophesy only in a partial and an incomplete way. A complete state will eventually come, τὸτέλειον, when we shall attain the goal for which we are now striving. In other connections τέλειος denotes the state of mature manhood in contradistinction from a νήπιος or παῖς. See Trench.
The aorist subjunctive ἔλθῃ marks the great future moment when the goal shall be reached, namely the Parousia of Christ. Then this entire state of imperfection which is now evident upon the earth will be abolished, for it will have served its purpose. An entirely new way of apprehending, of seeing, and of knowing shall take its place. Even then we shall not know all things—omniscience belongs to God alone, and even the angels do not know the deep things of God, which only the Spirit of God searches. In heaven we shall know in a heavenly manner.
The phrase ἐκμέρους does not mean “fragmentary.” This view introduces the idea that we have only a fragment of knowledge here and there, and that from these fragments we are unable to construct anything that is complete until our knowledge shall finally see things as a whole. A misleading application is then sometimes made. We are to consider each fragment by itself, are not to combine them in any way, we are especially not to draw conclusions from one fragment to another when we construct the Analogy of Faith, nor to harmonize one statement of Scripture with another when a contradiction seems to appear. Yet the fact of the matter is that the Scriptures place an entire system of spiritual knowledge before us, articles of faith that are well articulated and joined together. Yet this entire body of coordinated knowledge is ἐκμέρους, partial, able to convey to us only a part of the full reality which we shall at last come to know. Melanchthon stimulated his love for dying by thinking about the joy of knowing the mysteries of the Holy Trinity no longer merely “in part” but in the complete heavenly manner.
1 Corinthians 13:11
11 A beautiful analogy illustrates Paul’s meaning. When I was a child I spoke as a child, I had the interests of a child, I reasoned as a child; now that I have become a man I have put away the things of the child.
Paul compares his childhood with our present state and his manhood, which is so different from childhood and such an advance upon it, with our future state of glory. With the reference to his childhood he illustrates ἐκμέρους, and with the reference to attaining his manhood he pictures τὸτέλειον. Also this point of comparison is true: the child is in the man when he is fully developed; so we who are now in lowliness will be the individuals who are eventually glorified. Yet the child cannot expect more than to speak and to act as a child; so we must now expect to know and to prophesy only “in part.” When the goal of manhood is reached, “the things of the child” (so the Greek and not “childish things,” as in our versions) are put away. So when we reach τὸτέλειον, the heavenly completeness, we shall put away what was formerly “in part.”
The verb ἐφρόνουν points to the thoughts, the interests, and the strivings of a child while ἐλογιζόμην refers to the reasoning. The imperfect tenses picture habitual actions of the past. Paul’s analogy is general and should not be stressed so as to make the child’s speaking analogous to speaking with tongues in the church, and the child’s thinking analogous with prophesying in the church.
The two perfect tenses have their usual present implication. Yet the force of γέγονα may be questioned. It may be regarded as having aoristic force, R. 898, etc.: “when I became,” and stress the point of becoming. But it may be regarded as having a strong present force as is done in the R. V. which even adds “now” to make this evident: “now that I am become.” It is a fine point of distinction which the grammarians may discuss. The other verb is simpler: “I have put away” the things of a child, and they remain thus put away.
1 Corinthians 13:12
12 In v. 11 Paul uses the typical singular “I” when he is speaking about that which is true with respect to all of us. He individualizes and makes concrete the truth which he expounds. He might have continued to use “I” in v. 12. But with a masterly touch he inserts one clause which has the plural “we” in the verb and thereby shows that every “I” refers to all of us. For we now see by means of a mirror in a dark saying but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I shall know fully even as also I have been known fully.
Paul is explaining the point of his illustration used in v. 11 and hence has the connective “for.” “We see” needs no object, for the seeing itself is stressed no matter what the object may be. This seeing is done “by means of a mirror,” which makes it imperfect. The ancients used metal mirrors, yet we should not suppose that these mirrors were dull and offered only a dim reflection; they were bright enough. The tertium comparationis is found in the fact that as we see only the reflection and not the person or the object itself in a mirror, so we, who are children and know only in part, now see the divine realities only as they are reflected in the mirror of the Word and not directly as they are in fact.
The preposition διά indicates a medium or a means which intervenes between us and the object of our sight. The fact of the matter is that God himself produced this medium. He descends to us in the Word and speaks about heavenly realities in a human way, for the Word is couched in human expressions. Only in this way can we become cognizant of the heavenly truth. To speak in a heavenly way would defeat his purpose; and to show us heavenly realities directly without the mirror of the Word would simply blind and destroy us.
The phrase ἐναἰνίγματι is well rendered by Luther: in einem dunklen Wort and should not be separated from its context by a comma, for αἴνιγμα is a dark saying; and even in Num. 12:8, οὑδἰαἰνιγμάτων, whence Paul may have borrowed this term, the idea of “sayings” should be retained. Yet the phrase does not introduce a new figure, and Paul is thus not guilty of mixing figures. The phrase is to be understood literally. Paul himself interprets his figure of seeing by means of a mirror. This adding of literal expressions to figurative terms by way of interpretation is often misunderstood. In his Parables Trench calls it Biblical allegory, a weaving together of figures and reality.
It is extensively used in the Scriptures. The most perfect example is the allegory of the Vine and the Branches in John 15 where the figure and the meaning are intertwined almost throughout.
The translation “darkly” makes the phrase adverbial and loses the idea of “saying.” An “enigma” is always a saying, one that does not as yet offer full clearness but leaves much for future solution. It must thus be received by faith and will eventually be followed by sight, 2 Cor. 5:7. The Scriptures regularly employ earthly terms when they are speaking about divine and supernatural realities. Think of the parables, the types, thousands of comparisons, Paul’s use of human illustrations in this very connection. All of these are riddles more or less. The statement that Paul cannot call the Word of God an enigma is answered by the consideration that he is speaking relatively, by way of comparison with the future perfect revelation. Melanchthon writes: Verbum enim est velut involucrwm illius arcanae et mirandae rei, quam in vita coelesti coram aspiciemus.
There is no need to introduce the rabbinical tradition regarding Num. 12:8, concerning Moses and the prophets, in which it is stated that Moses saw God through a window of single glass while the prophets saw him through one of nine thicknesses. Nor will it aid us to learn that a certain kind of window was known in these early times, which was made of lapis specularis (isinglass), called specularia; yet these were not called ἔσοπτρα but δίοπτρα.
“Now” we see imperfectly, “then,” when we reach heaven, “face to face,” which we may regard as an adverbial expression modifying “we shall see” understood. The preposition πρός is quite often used to indicate “living relationship and intimate converse,” R. 625. In this manner God sees us now; we shall also arrive at this directness and no longer need the medium of the Word. Thus we shall see Jesus as he is, 1 John 3:2; yea, even God himself, Matt. 5:8; whereas we are now able to see both only in the Word and more dimly in their works in nature. This direct seeing will be the height of joy and blessedness.
Paul repeats: “Now I know in part,” again with concrete personal individualization in order to place over against this the glorious heavenly opposite: “but then,” etc. As a translation of ἐπιγνώσομαικαθώςκαίἐπεγνώσθην the American Committee of the R. V. offers: “then I shall know fully even as also I have been known fully,” and differentiates the compound verb from the simple form. The addition of the preposition to the simple verb makes the sense intensive and perfective, a knowing which penetrates completely, R. 827; C.-K..; Trench. Even the simple γινώσκω denotes the knowing of loving appropriation, knowing as one’s own. Compare Matt. 7:23: “I never knew you,” i.e., as my own; John 10:14: “I know mine own, and mine own know me.” The dogmaticians very properly call this noscere cum affectu et effectu.
The aorist “have been known fully” is constative and includes all of God’s knowledge regarding Paul and sums all of it up in one point. Commentators mention especially Paul’s election and his conversion as being included in this knowing. Yet we should be careful not to restrict the force of this verb in any way. As God’s direct and all-penetrating knowledge takes into account every one of his children already in eternity and, of course, through all of life, so we, too, shall at last know God directly and completely to the highest degree in which this is possible for his children.
1 Corinthians 13:13
13 The conclusion of Paul’s description is as perfect in every way as are all of the other lines of the picture. And now remains faith, hope, love, these three; yet the greatest of these love. The simplicity of the words united with the loftiest meaning is the height of beauty. The last word is ἡἀγάπη—yes, that should be the final note.
“Now” is not temporal but logical. Paul is not saying that faith, hope, and love remain only now, for this life; he says the very opposite: all three remain forever. “But now” = considering all of the gifts that shall be put away completely and the abilities that shall be transformed such as knowledge—how about love? We have already learned that love never falls, v. 8. But more must be said, something that lifts love to its highest pinnacle so that, when this final excellence is mentioned, nothing remains to be added regarding love. This is, however, not the idea that, while all else is put away or changed, love remains and outlasts all of them. This is not the fact.
Paul says that no less than three remain: faith, hope, and love. The verb is quite emphatic because of its position and refers to all three of the subjects equally. The fact that it is a singular makes no difference. This is often the case when a number of subjects in the singular follow the verb, and it implies that each of these subjects is to be referred to the verb; besides, τὰτρίαταῦτα, a neuter plural, calls for a singular verb, R. 405. “These three,” Paul says, “remain,” and not merely one of the three.
In a certain way faith will cease and be turned into sight (2 Cor. 5:7), namely inasmuch as the Word, the present medium for faith, will be taken away when we at last see Christ as he is. In another way faith remains eternally, for our trust in the Triune God shall never cease. To all eternity faith connects us with God and with salvation. For this reason Paul writes: “And now remains faith.”
This is equally true with regard to hope. In Rom. 8:24, etc., hope as a sure expectation that is based on solid realities is compared with its coming consummation, the final possession and enjoyment of all for which we now hope. That is quite different from what Paul says here about hope. Hope remains as the expectation of the ever-new unfolding of glory in the future state. Heaven is not one everlasting monotony which, once attained, leaves nothing further to expect. The angels sing ever-new praises to God. So we, too, shall pass from one to another of the joys which God has prepared for us.
It is naturally difficult for us to speak on this subject because of our present inferior knowledge. For one thing, eternity is not time, not even an endless stretch of time, but timelessness, the opposite of time, Rev. 10:6. Yet we are fettered to conceptions of time even when we try to think in terms of eternity. So we can speak about heaven only in a poor, human way. But the glories of heaven are inexhaustible, and we shall never get through exploring them. Thus Paul writes: “And now remains hope.”
His sentence is so constructed that if faith and hope remained only until we enter heaven, love, too, would remain only that long. It is impossible to drop faith and hope at the golden portal and to take only love with us. Such a construction is made impossible in still another way, namely when Paul adds with strong emphasis: “these three.” He ties a band about these three as if, after naming them, he asks us to stop a moment and to contemplate these three which constitute one great unit, the supreme class of spiritual possessions, the class that endures eternally in contrast with the other class which endures only for time.
And now there comes the final surprise. Paul has combined faith, hope, and love into one great unit possession that is marked by endless endurance and is distinguished from all other possessions. After all, love must then share its throne with two others. After all, we must then discount what was said about its high position. This is the very effect which Paul wishes to create. With one stroke all such thoughts are changed: “yet the greatest of these love.” There is no reason for translating the comparative μείζων with the English comparative “greater” as is done in the margin of the R.
V. In the Greek of the New Testament period the distinction between the comparative and the superlative began to be erased, R. 668. This is not the case in English. Hence, when in the Greek three are concerned, we may have “greater,” but in English this would be incorrect, we must say “greatest.”
Paul simply makes the assertion and leaves us with the question as to how love is the greatest of the trio. One thing is, of course, clear: love is not greatest because it outlasts faith and hope but because it outranks these two. But how does it outrank them? The best answer is that of Bengel: Ac Deus non dicitur fides aut spes absolute, amor dicitur. Love alone makes us like God. “For love is of God; and everyone that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God,” 1 John 4:7. Also v. 12: “If we love one another, God dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us.” Especially v. 16: “God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him.”
What John says regarding our love while we are in this earthly state may surely be used to cast a light upon our state above where it will be love that brings us into the fullest union and communion with God. It is faith’s nature to receive, but love gives; and giving is greater than receiving. God’s fullest purpose is attained in us when we are filled with love. Hope also looks forward to receiving, but love is full possession and completed joy. And for every new joy which hope receives in heaven love will be the response on our part. When we come to rest on the bosom of God, it will be by love.
R. A Grammar of the Greek New Testament in the Light of Historical Research, by A. T. Robertson, 4th ed.
B.-D. Friedrich Blass’ Grammatik des neutestamentlichen Griechisch, vierte, voellig neugearbeitete Auflage, besorgt von Albert Debrunner.
C.-K. Biblisch-theologisches Woerterbuch der Neutestamentlichen Graezitaet von D. D. Hermann Cremer, zehnte, etc., Auflage, herausgegeben von D. Dr. Julius Koegel.