1 Corinthians 13

It should be simple, really, but in practice, it's not. At least, not for me.

Why is it so easy to integrate these verses into wedding ceremonies yet so difficult to integrated them into my daily life? How often can I honestly say I love as described in these thirteen verses?

I've heard numerous messages on these verses, I've read the chapter numerous times, and still, it doesn't always sink in how vital it is love properly. Not in a merely romantic sense, but in an unconditional sense.

Am I patient? Sometimes—not often enough? Though I have no reason to, I catch myself exhibiting arrogance from time to time. What I'm saying is that if verses 4 through 7 were a checklist (they're not), I don't know that I'd be able to check anything off.

Love never fails (v.8), though "when the perfect comes" (v.10), the partial (prophecy, tongues, etc.) will be done away with. Of all the gifts, love outlasts them all. It is the "more excellent way" (12:31) we exercise the gifts God has given us.

God knows I leave a lot to be desired when it comes to living out the definition Paul gives us in this chapter. In some ways, I still act like a child (not in an endearing sense) when I should have matured. Have I managed to do away with childish things (v.11)?

I'm looking forward to the say when I see "face to face" rather than dimly, when I will "know fully," just as Christ has known me (v.12).

"Love never fails"

—1 Cor 13:8a

1 Corinthians 12

Though there are different spiritual gifts, there is only one God who dispenses them, and they all work together: each has its place, its purpose. We don't get to choose which gifts we're given: that's up to the Holy Spirit (v11).

God spread all of these gifts among the body for specific purposes. Paul talks about "body parts" deciding they're not part of the body because they think their function is lesser than that of some other part; he makes it clear, for example, that just because a foot isn't a hand, it's no less a part of the whole (v15).

Likewise, parts that "think" their function is somehow more valuable than another are incorrect, too: without all parts of the body, all you have is pieces.

As Christ's body, we're all essential: we all have a role, a function. And we have different roles—and that's a good thing! I'm reminded of the phrase "two left-feet" regarding someone who dances poorly. Parts—and people—attempting to perform roles or claim gifts not befitting them only undermine the body as a whole.

There is a hierarchy of gifts (v28), but that doesn't mean that the "bottom drawer" gifts are any less necessary than others.

What is my gift (or gifts)? How am I using them? Am I envious of those with gifts I don't have? Why? Do I think God "made a mistake" when He blessed me with a gift in the first place? For example, I wish sharing the gospel came more readily to me. I wish I knew how to better dig in to the Bible with a mind to really study, Strong's numbers and lexicons at the ready. Some of these things probably aren't necessarily "gifts" so much as me lacking the necessary discipline. I guess it all comes down to this: I want to be whom God has called me to be; I want to do what He's laid out for me to do.

1 Corinthians 11

"Be imitators of me, just as I also am of Christ," says Paul (v1). What in my life mimics how Jesus lived His? What in my life is the antithesis of His desire for those He's called?

Paul discusses a sort of "spiritual economy" in verses 3-12, beginning by stating that Christ is the head of every man, and that God (the Father) is the head of Christ. God the Father and God the Son (and God the Spirit) are in essence one—there is one God; still, within the Trinity there's an economy of authority; the Son submitting to the Father and the Spirit to both the Father and the Son. Neither is "less God" than another: it's just the way He "works." So likewise men and women function as part of an economy: men are not "more" than women just as women are not more than men. That said, there's a created order to observe.

How do I handle my family? Am I an effective spiritual leader? Am I seeking God's glory in how I handle family matters? In what areas have I dropped the ball? What do I need to change in order to pick it back up?

"Be imitators of me, just as I also am of Christ."

—1 Cor 11:1

The rest of the chapter focuses on the Lord's Supper (communion) and how some within the church were, in effect, acting as though they were at a party rather than observing the ordinance as Christ delivered it (vv23-26).

I don't think I always take to heart the admonition: "Therefore, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner, shall be guilty of the body and the blood of the Lord." It's amazing how one tiny piece of cracker and one small cup of grape juice can—should—invite one to assess the current state of his walk.

What am I saying when I observe communion? Am I really examining my heart, my state before God? Or am I willfully eating and drinking judgment to myself? It's easy to write down "I'm thankful when God disciplines me," (v32), but it's another to really mean it when it happens. And God's discipline—for me, at least—is a hard thing to understand. How is He going to do it? When? How am I to know what's His discipline and what's just one of the consequences of living in a cursed world?

1 Corinthians 10

In Moses' day, when he led Israel out of Egypt, everyone "passed under the cloud" and "through the sea" (v1). All had access to the same spiritual assets; yet even with His presence so inescapably manifest, the people made terrible choices. With most of them, "God was not well-pleased." (v5).

Even in the literal presence of God, the people chose their own way rather than God's, and for their flagrant and willful sin, twenty-three thousand were destroyed (vv7-9).

Paul writes that these things happened as an example to us, that "they were written for out instruction" (v11). None of us is immune to temptation. And sometimes I'm guilty of thinking that God's not so close, that He's not all that interested in every little thing I do (or don't do). Sometimes I think if I could see Him, if I knew He was going to swing by for an inspection, I'd clean up my act. Why do I forget that God is omnipresent? And omniscient? Why do I forget that the God who died for me in the person of Jesus Christ is intimately concerned with my life?

Thankfully, there's always a way out (v13). Nothing I experience is unique: all of us have struggled with temptation, with our various lusts. Sometimes we overcome them. Sometimes we just plain don't want to. If we're willing, we can always find the "way out" God provides. Paul doesn't say that taking God's providential exit is necessarily easy, just that it's available.

In verse 14, Paul transitions to the topic of Christian liberty. All who are in Christ are part of the same body—we partake of the same sacrifice. We're exhorted to choose our allegiance: we can't have both-and when it comes to serving God or demons (v21). From this thought, Paul addresses the difference between lawful an edifying: there are all kinds of things we can do, but for our brothers' and sisters' conscience might choose not to do: "Give no offense either to Jews or to Greeks or to the church of God" (v32).

Is my liberty causing others to stumble? Am I doing things that give people pause when they consider the gospel and its power? Or its necessity? What changes do I need to pray God would make in my life to better draw people to Him?

"Let no one seek his own good, but that of his neighbor."

—1 Cor 10:24