Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. I Corinthians 4, NRSV

The pained smile. The back-handed compliment.

The constant reminders of feats accomplished. Superiority flaunted to make others feel their inferiority.

Bad behavior tolerated or excused because of exceptional accomplishment, no matter how it hurts others.

Whether on the giving or receiving end, harm is done and people are left broken. Faith communities and the people in them aren’t immune. They can be torn apart by such things because it diminishes the lives of everyone involved.

Like everything else, I suspect it boils down to a lack of love for one of the big three: God, Self, Other. If we had eyes to see our own value, would we waste any time on worrying how we compared to others? If we had eyes to see the worth of others, wouldn’t we honor that in word and deed?

If we trusted that we were created and loved by God, would any other recognition be necessary?

Sometimes, what we do not do is as powerful as anything we do.

God, give me eyes to see and a heart to love. Amen.

Love is patient; love is kind.

To be kind is to see through the brokenness, the fear, the mistaken assumption that competition is the only true reality; to be kind is to reach for the holy person hiding inside the shell such things create. To be kind is to see the lovable in what looks to all the world unlovable.

To be unkind is to see in even the most beautiful and holy a threat; to be unkind is to forget one’s own holiness, to forget who one truly is.

When we see others for who they truly are, when we know who we truly are, to be kind will be as natural as breathing.

It’s something I aspire to.

Love is patient.

Instant answers via google; next-day delivery; lunch ordered, prepared, and handed over without getting out of the car; they are conveniences that most people take as necessities, and they’ve made the daily practice of patience obsolete.

If love is patient, then patience is a sign of love. Does this mean that loving God, self, and neighbor may be more difficult because we’ve come to value and expect immediacy?

[For the full text, click I Corinthians 13 above.]

If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing. I Cor. 13:3, NRSV

Lent has arrived, and all kinds of people are giving up alcohol, chocolate, online gaming, and other treasured activities they consider possible vices. All kinds of people are taking on volunteer projects, daily prayer, and exercise – not-so-treasured activities they consider virtues. I have a couple of things in mind myself – ‘Tis the season, right?

It’s so easy to miss the point of these activities, to take them on as some sort of punishment or correction for past mistakes or bad behavior. Even sadder, to imagine that such acts will slide a few of our beads from the negative to the positive side in God’s mighty morality measuring abacus.

The point of these activities is not to diminish ourselves, or to exhaust our bodies, hearts, minds, and souls. It’s the exact opposite: such things can enlarge who we are, granting us a glimpse of God’s transforming love in the face we see in the mirror each morning. But only if we do them as a means to bring about good things, not as a means to hurt ourselves or an attempt to prove that our faith is bigger and better than someone else’s.

So as we begin such things, let’s ask ourselves a simple question: Is this a way to love ourselves, others, and God? If it is, dive right in. If it isn’t, consider this: without love, we gain nothing.

(PS. There is no mighty morality measuring abacus…)

[Paul understood such things, because he did all kinds of these things when he was called Saul – acts without love for others, seeking to correct nonconforming worship practices and punish their practitioners. So he did his best to keep others from making the same mistake. It’s why he wrote this love letter. For the full text, click I Corinthians 13 above.]