Sunday, for the first time in many years, I found myself in a pulpit again. My mother, whom I love as much as a man can love a mother, called me the night before and asked what I was preaching on. I told her the fruits of the Spirit. She said, “Oh, so you’re playing it safe!”
At first I agreed. I mean, how can you mess up love, right? But as I thought more about it, the less safe it started to seem to me. And I finally arrived at the conclusion that it was not safe in the least, actually, to preach on love.
For starters, everyone already thinks they are loving. The danger, and the first unsafe part of preaching on love, is that you can lull people to sleep talking about love. It’s not a safe play in the least. You can look out at a congregation about twenty minutes in if you’re not careful and see the blank stares and the drooping eyelids. If you have any affection for Christ, then, I urge you not to take love lightly: hear the word of the Lord on love. You’re not as loving as you think you are, and certainly I’m not (you’ll notice, of course, I didn’t call you Shirley).
Secondly, love is a radical concept. It’s not safe at all. When Christ came into the world, a star hovered over his birthplace. Among other things, this happened this way because light was invading a world of darkness, and invading forces are certainly not safe.
Lastly, loving, taken by itself, is not safe, and, if you love, you will not be safe. If you love, you’ll set yourself up for heartache. If you love, you’ll set yourself up to require sacrifice. If you love, you’ll have to give away some of your time, money, and talent. If you love, at times you’ll be ridiculed, stepped on, taken advantage of, used, and called a fool. It’s really not that safe when you think about it.
But love all the same. It’s worth it, and love is a primary mark of the Christian. As Paul said, it’s the most excellent way:
If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
