If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it; but if I didn’t love others, I would have gained nothing. 1 Corinthians 13:3 (NLT)
For a good deal of my adult life, I have admired active and activist Christians. I did this first from afar, reading books by and about women and men like Mother Theresa, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and William Wilberforce. I wondered what it would take to become like Shane Claiborne or Gary Haugen. Then I started admiring up close, watching people in Saint John, NB like my colleagues at Outflow, the community outreach team at RiverCross Church, and the Sisters of Charity. These people give me an example to imitate.
I was also attracted to specific themes in scripture. I enjoyed reading about the least of these in Matthew 25 and Micah’s call that seeking justice was how to obey God. The passages resonated with me every time I read them and always made me want to be more active. I read in them commands to follow and a worthwhileness to belief. It is fair to say that without such passages the crisis of faith of my mid-twenties would have seen the end of religion in my life.
This is all to point out why I find 1 Corinthians 13:3 such an irritant to my belief in God. My mind and heart were always turned off by this verse. How could someone give everything to the poor or sacrifice her body and not have love? In my mind, passages like Matthew 25:31-46 were the very definition of love and they said that love was doing stuff like giving everything to the poor and sacrificing your body. When I read 1 Corinthians 13:3, I thought that the best we could say was that it was a logical contradiction. But…
Now I work at a homeless shelter, having spent more than three years doing this sort of work as my full-time career and having spent the three prior years volunteering at a winter shelter. Short of meeting my wife, serving homeless men has been the most significant thing in the last six years of my life. In these six years serving homeless men revealed to me how this type of thing – giving to the poor or sacrificing your body – can be done without love. Today, I read this passage and I sense a warning, I feel condemned, or I right my attitude.
Two thoughts, first about boasting and second about love, with an interlude in between. Working with the poor creates a tremendous temptation to boast. Three things are true. First, receiving media attention and political attention is no longer surprising to me. Second, random people and strangers talk to and compliment me. Third, it is easy to see my life as the standard for piety and discipleship. These three things are perilous to Christian obedience. There is a very, very fine line between exposing yourself to the chance to advocate or to raise funds and exposing yourself to praise. Paul’s words, “I could boast about it…” expose one of the great temptations of my life.
For our interlude, give me the benefit of the doubt. Assume that most of the time, I do what I do for reasons other than building the social capital necessary to boast. I believe that this would be fair. Then, you might think, most of the time I do what I do to love people. I appreciate the thought, but your thought may indeed be wrong. Let’s think of two other reasons to serve that Paul does not bring up in this letter. First, there are days I do what I do for no other reason than because I said I would and I am deeply committed to keeping my word. Love, therefore, is not my motivation. Not being a jerk is my motivation. Second, there are days that I do what I do because I go into autopilot. Many people who work in the non-profit field say that there is never a routine day and there is some truth to that, but it is also true that my identity is at least partly defined by my career. This does not make me unique. Our career language is often based on “I am a…” sentences and career is often the first thing that people bring up during introductions. It is quite possible to serve the poor not to boast or to love but instead simply from habit.
Now, finally, we can think about love. Fortunately, Paul gives us great detail about what love is. His definition is nothing if not thorough. “Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record or being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.” (1 Corinthians 13:4-7, NLT)
This is a tall order. Even now, typing those words after having read them and copied them countless times before, it seems overwhelming. So, when I go to work and serve the poor with pure intentions, with purposefulness, and with excitement, will my actions always be loving? Sadly, they will not. Love is too big a task oftentimes. When I look at the list of what love is, a couple failings stand out to me – patience and kindness. I cannot help but feel like I am standing convicted in front of a perfect judge when I read even the first two items on this list.
I recall a particular night. I am a stickler for the rules at work because I think it helps to make sure that all the guys using the shelter are treated equally and fairly. I rarely make an exception but I did one night because one of the shelter guests had a family emergency. In this case an exception was the only good thing to do. The problem came when one of the other guys saw the exception and asked why I just did what I did. I politely told him I would not talk about it because I did not want to share someone else’s personal business with him. The guy asked again and I politely said there was an emergency, so I made an exception. He then asked me again, saying he wanted an exception. I growled that the other guy has something going on, that he did not, and that the conversation was over. Imago Dei walked away from me staring at the floor. This was not lost on me. I looked at the man doing his internship at the shelter, “Was that as bad as I think it was?” He looked at me, “Yup. It was pretty bad.” I had to go apologize and, thankfully, was the recipient of a great act of forgiveness.
You may want to cut me some slack here. You may say that I was tired (which I was), that it was a trying time at work (which it was), or that I felt like I was about to be manipulated (which I did). The veracity of these statements, however, is irrelevant to the fact that I should have given this man kindness and patience but I gave him neither in that moment. Even with the best of intentions, love is sometimes too big for me. This must push me to Jesus, for forgiveness and discipleship.
Back to admiring people from afar. I remember first encountering Theresa, Bonhoeffer, and Haugen and how excited they made me. See, I struggled with love at that time as well. I saw little of Matthew 25:34-40 in my life. I thought that if I could have service as my vocation that I would be inherently loving. I was wrong. I now see that it is in fact possible and maybe even easier to serve the poor without love because sometimes I am guilty of doing just that. I learned that vocation is not the source of love. Jesus is the source of love. Working at a homeless shelter taught me that 1 Corinthians 13:3 is indeed true.
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