Grace Congregational UCC

“A Look In the Mirror”
I Corinthians 13:1-13
Luke 4:21-30

January 28, 2007 - Kim M. Henning

I think I Corinthians 13 has been read in this place more often than any other scripture, with the possible exception of Psalm 23. Psalm 23 finds its way into every funeral service. I Corinthians 13 is by far the people’s choice at weddings. If these walls could speak, they would recite:

“Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.”

Now we can assume that I Corinthians 13 was not written with newlyweds in mind. I Corinthians was written to the church in Corinth that was deeply enmeshed with power struggles. There were pentecostals in that church and there were some who were not pentecostals, there were intellectuals there and there were some who were not; there were arguments about the role of women, and the role of Gentiles....and seemingly members were at each others’ throats.......

To that congregation, Paul wrote: “If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.” <> “And if I have prophet powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to removed mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.” <> “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.”

When I Corinthians appeared in the lectionary this week, my first inclination was to say, ‘oh, that one again.’ The people’s ears have grown weary of that scripture and I have nothing new to say. But I Corinthians 13 just kept nudging its way into my conscience.

Love. Who of us would be so bold as to say that we’ve got it down pat? Who of us would be so confident as to say that love has reached perfection within us and I have no need to hear of anything more?

Art Buchwald is a well-known humorist and syndicated columnist who recently died. He died of cancer. Art Buchwald knew that he was dying. He was in hospice care.

In a conversation, one of Buchwald’s friends convinced him to write one last article that would appear in newspapers across the United States. And the condition was, that Buchwald’s last article would appear and be read after he died. I was intrigued by that thought: ‘what would I write, if I knew that it would be read after my death?’ ‘What would I say if I knew I didn’t have to defend it or live with it the next day?’

Buchwald in fact wrote a column which was published after his death. There was nothing earth-shaking in it. Except, I was intrigued by his last paragraph. In his last paragraph knowing this was his last word, he quote the familiar line, “What’s it all about, Alfie?” I don’t think he was trying to be funny. I think he was truly wondering—‘what’s it all about?’ What is the meaning of this life? What is the purpose of this life?

Buchwald didn’t know.

The Christian would say, “it’s about Jesus Christ, and Jesus Christ was about love.” No question there.

I once hear someone say that another faithful way to read I Corinthians 13, is to do a word switch. Every time we read the word ‘love’–do a word switch. Put in the name ‘Jesus Christ.’

If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels but do not have Jesus, I am a noisy gone.

If I give away all my possessions but do not have Jesus, I gain nothing.

Jesus is patient; Jesus is kind, Jesus is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. Jesus does not insist on his own way; Jesus is not irritable or resentful; Jesus does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. Jesus bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Jesus never ends.

Of course, when we hear I Corinthians read like that, we realize how woefully short we fall. The truth be known, whether we read ‘love’ or whether we read ‘Jesus’ in I Corinthians 13, you and I do not measure up. Or, let me speak for myself. I do not measure up. I know my thoughts, they’re not all love. I know my sharp tongue. I know I have prejudice. I know my ego. I know my greed. You call that love? Lord, have mercy. I know how I would rather fight it out, rather than love it out.

What I Corinthians 13 does is awaken me to confess because I have so much growing up to do—when I think about love. If love is about ‘doing’, I do not do near enough. If love is about ‘generosity’, I save far too much for me. If love is about understanding another’s plight, I know that I spend far too much time making sure that others understand me.

Perhaps that is why—toward the end of I Corinthians 13, Paul writes what is utterly profound. He writes, “now we see in a mirror dimly, but then we shall see face to face.’

Having given this huge definition of love, Paul says, ‘now we see in a mirror dimly.’ Look in a mirror, Paul says, and ‘love does not reflect back very well.’ Now we see in a mirror dimly. Paul says that our practice of love is like looking in a foggy mirror. It is like, one of those times when we take a shower and we forget to turn on the exhaust fan. We look into the mirror, wanting to comb our hair, and we see nothing but fog. Paul says, that that’s about how love looks, when we look in a mirror. Now we see dimly...... but then we will see face to face.’

The day will come.... The day of Jesus Christ will come..... and we will see love with all of its perfection ‘face to face.’

The day will come, and we will see clearly love. The day will come, and we will see the perfect expression of love in Jesus Christ.

Here we are waiting, can our love grow wider—to embrace the unlovely? Here we are waiting, can our love grow deeper—to overcome our egos? Here we are waiting, can our love grow more real even embracing those whose lifestyles we may disagree with but who are nevertheless ‘children of God.’

I like the story about a woman who was an Associate Pastor of a Presbyterian Church in southern California. She loved to go to Nordstrom’s department store in Bel Air—just to enjoy the ambiance. On one of her visits she was looking at some of the finest dresses in the world, when the elevator doors opened and out stepped a very disheveled looking woman. Her clothes were dirty, her hair matted, her stockings rolled down to her ankles. She carried a dirty gym bag in her hand.

The pastor expected a security person to appear. It was obvious that she wasn’t going to buy anything when a stately saleswoman came to the woman with the gym bag and asked, “May I help you, madam?”

“Yeah! I wanna buy a dress.”

“Any particular kind of dress?”

“A party dress!” the woman answered.

“Well, You’ve come to the right place. Follow me. I think we’ve got some of the finest party dresses in the world.”

The saleswoman spent more than 15 minutes matching the dresses with the woman’s skin color and eye color, trying to help her find just the right match. After selecting three dresses, the saleswoman said, “Shall we go and try them on?”

The pastor was so enthralled, that she went into an adjoining dressing room so she could overhear the rest of their story. The woman with the gym bag tried on each of the dresses with help from the saleswoman. But after 10 minutes or so, she said very abruptly, “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going to buy a dress today.” And the pastor heard the saleswoman say, “That’s all right.” And then in a gentle voice she said, “But here’s my card. Should you come back to Nordstrom, I hope that you’ll ask for me. I would consider it a privilege to wait on you again.”

“And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three—and the greatest is love.”