Text: 1 Corinthians 13:11
On the day we moved the new dresser into my bedroom, it was as tall as I was and three times as heavy. It was made of solid wood, had six rows of drawers stacked up on top of each other, and the top set was right around eye-level, if you were under five feet tall. My dad had built the dresser himself. That much I knew. But that’s about all I knew at the time.
I didn’t know anything about the details involved in designing, measuring, cutting, assembling, sanding, staining, and finishing a piece of hardwood furniture that would last for generations. My kid-brain couldn’t comprehend any of that. Nor could I comprehend why, when I decided to superglue a dime to the face of that top drawer, I didn’t get why my dad was not stoked about the choice.
“You did what to my furniture?” Unsightly as it was, he decided to leave it. And it’s still there today, almost 40 years later, upstairs in our kids’ room. And my dad still refers to it (affectionally) as, “Michael’s Dime Dresser.”
Now maybe you’re wondering, “Why a dime?” And the answer is, I don’t know. Can you give a rational account of all the thoughts that went through your head as a ten-year-old? I guess I just wanted to add something to my dad’s creation. And a superglued dime seemed as good a choice as any, at the time.
Today, as an adult, I get why defacing costly, handmade furnishings might be upsetting to their owner. But as a kid, such reasoning mystified me.
It’s this sense of being “mystified” that I’d like to talk about with you today. You can probably think of moments from your childhood when you were mystified by adults—by the way they engaged the world, the attitudes they had towards matters such as bedtime, or wearing your seatbelt, or not running with scissors. Why do big people care about such things? And why do they iron tablecloths or color-code their tools, or use high-falutin’ words, or take a nap in the middle of the day (voluntarily)? Why? And how?
How do they fix things, like homemade French fries? (Mmmm.) Or broken bikes, and light switches and door hinges, and zippers that won’t zip and buttons that fell off and the drawer that won’t close on your dime dresser?
When we were children, we thought like children and talked like children and were mystified by adults. They’re so big and sometimes strange. And we’re destined to become like them? Somedays we couldn’t imagine it.
Now, in certain cases that was a good thing. Not all grown-ups are good role models. But for the ones that were, and are, it was even more mystifying to imagine that one day we would be like them.
If you can grasp that feeling, then you can begin to grasp the mystery of what followers of Jesus all around the world are re-living again as we retell the events that led to the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, whom we call Messiah, God’s Son, our King, the Christ.
It’s happening this coming week for Christians who follow the Western calendar on April 5th. It’s April 12th for those on the Eastern calendar. Whichever week we celebrate it, the same mystery is always front and center: the death of Jesus on the cross, which isn’t just the terrible murder of God Himself—it is that, but it’s more for us. It is also the supreme act of God’s love for us.
Love—now that’s a word with too many jobs on its to-do list. Think about it—the same word can be employed to express feelings toward your mother, desire for a romantic partner, and craving for hot French fries. That’s a lot to ask of one word.
And when one word has to do so much work, it might get so busy that we miss the mystery.
When the writers of the Bible use the word that gets translated “love,” they were using a common word to refer to a profound mystery, the steady, committed action of God for us in Jesus.
For example, when we read in the Gospel of John 3:16, “God so loved the world that He gave us His one and only Son,” that word “love” is being used in a mysterious way, in God’s way, not our way. So, what’s the difference? Our way, our human way, is first to be attracted to something or someone, and then to love them. Love, for us, is something like hunger, an appetite, a need. Which means it’s hard for us to comprehend loving things that turn our stomach, that have an unpleasant odor or a smug look on their face—how could we love them?
But, for the things and people that make us happy, that make us feel good, that fill our hearts and warm our bellies and meet our needs, it’s no mystery that we would love them. That’s because our way, our human way of loving is like a craving that’s pulled out of us, like the sight and smell of freshly fried and salted potatoes.
But God’s love isn’t a growling stomach. God’s love does the cooking—or better, God’s love creates something out of nothing. Martin Luther, the guy after whom this program is named, said it this way: “The love of God does not find, but creates [what] is pleasing to it … The love of God … loves sinners, evil persons, fools, and weaklings in order to make them righteous, good, wise, and strong. Rather than seeking its own good, the love of God [goes out] and [gives] good.”i
So, wait a minute, are you saying that God thinks stinky, ugly, offensive people are attractive? No. What we’re saying is, God’s love isn’t based on attraction at all. Sinners are loved, not because somewhere deep down, they’re beautiful. No, they are beautiful through and through because they are loved.ii
See, God doesn’t go out looking for valuable, desirable, beautiful things and people so that He can love them. God loves first, and by loving them He makes things and people valuable, desirable, and beautiful.
Think of it this way: human love is like a boomerang that goes out and curves back on itself. God’s love is like an arrow that goes out and gives everything to everyone. Human love goes out craving something for itself, for someone to say how nice it looks in those jeans or to laugh at its jokes and when it gets what it wants, it curves back in again, on itself. Human love is self-seeking.
God’s love is the opposite. God’s love is a generous, overflowing, meals-on-wheels truck that goes out, and shares, freely, what God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—already has more than enough of and will never run out of—security, confidence, joy. God loves like this because God already has everything and doesn’t need anything. That’s what makes God’s love so mystifying. We, not being God, can’t even comprehend how such a love could even work, or why it would work.iii
And trying to understand it is like telling a ten-year-old to become an adult overnight.
The mystery of this upcoming week for Christians is that creative love of God in action. That’s what we see Jesus doing on the cross—He’s loving people who are unattractive, annoying, ugly, offensive, childish. He’s loving sinners. “I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners,” Jesus said (Mark 2:17). And by loving them, by loving us, by loving you, Jesus embraces you in this mystery and makes you into something you couldn’t be on your own.
See, God’s love is unconditional, but your life isn’t. Your life, my life, grows and thrives and matures only under certain conditions. Like how a child needs certain conditions, such as food, shelter, education, affirmation, so also, we need God’s love. We need to know and trust that we are truly loved by God.
But what if we reject God’s love or try to replace it with something else? Look at the scarred and defaced world around you. That’s what happens. Take a deep look at yourself—at your own heart. That’s what happens. If you could look into mine, you’d see a five-foot tall, pudgy kid with pimples at a school dance next to basketball players and cheerleaders who don’t even know he’s there and don’t know that he’d love to watch it all burn.
That’s what I am, apart from God’s love. I am never enough. And it brings out the worst in me. I am condemned to stunted growth, condemned to fixate on my own unmet needs, condemned by God—by God’s loving opposition to my childish refusal of the love God wants to give. I come under God’s judgment. We all do. And it doesn’t feel like love in that moment.
And the only reason I can promise that it is God’s love, is because Jesus stood under God’s judgment, with you and for you, when He died on the cross, so that He could give you a better way, a way to grow up in this mystery of God’s love.
There’s a chapter in the Bible that talks all about this strange love of God. You might have heard some of it read once at a wedding. The context, however, is not love in marriage. It’s not romantic love. It’s God’s way of loving at work in a Christian community. It’s in a letter written to Christ-followers who lived a long time ago, in a prominent city on the banks of the Mediterranean Sea. Paul, the guy who started their church community, wrote this letter because they were behaving childishly. In this part, Paul is writing about the way they were getting together to do church—to worship Jesus together. From the sound of it, they were turning the mysteries of God in worship into childish competitions. They were showing off with their so-called spiritual gifts, bragging about the miracles they’d seen, oversharing facts they’d recently learned (prophesying), and some were making a scene speaking in “tongues,” in languages God-only-knows-who could understand.
And Paul tells them, maybe with a touch of sarcasm, you all go on, go on striving after those “greater” gifts. But I, I will show you a more excellent way. Listen to how he says it:
“You all are the body of Christ. And each one of you is a part of it. Now in the church, God has appointed, first of all, apostles, second, prophets, third, teachers; then, those who work miracles, then also those with gifts of healings, those who can help, those with gifts of administration, and also those who speak in different kinds of tongues, different languages.
“Not all are apostles, are they? Not all are prophets. Not all are teachers. Not everyone works miracles. Not everyone has gifts of healings. Not everyone speaks in tongues. Not everyone interprets. But you all go on, go on striving after the greater gifts. And I will show you a still more excellent way.
“If I speak in the tongues of men and angels, but I have not love, I’m only a noisy gong or a clashing cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy, and can comprehend all mysteries and all ‘knowledge,’ and if I have faith that can move mountains, but I don’t have love, I’m nothing. If I give away all my possessions and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.
“Love waits patiently. Love shows kindness. Love does not burn with envy. It does not brag. It is not inflated with pride. Love does not behave rudely. It is not self-seeking. It is not easily provoked. It keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not rejoice at injustice, but delights in the truth. Love always protects, always keeps the faith, always hopes, always endures. Love never fails.
“But, where there are prophecies, they will cease. And where there are tongues, they will be stilled. Because now, we know in part. Now, we prophesy in part. But, when perfection comes, what is partial will be put away. You see, when I was a child, I thought like a child, I talked like a child, I reasoned like a child. But when I grew up, when I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. For now we see a poor reflection, as in a mirror. Then we will see face to face. Now I know in part. Then, I will know fully, even as I’ve been fully known. So, these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.”
This last week, I learned that passage from 1 Corinthians 13 by heart. I said it over and over again. I said it, trusting that this is our destiny, each of us who’ve been baptized into Jesus, who’ve been brought to trust in Jesus. We died, we were reborn in Him to be a small, but important part of His body, the church. We are destined to grow into people who love like Him, when perfection comes, when Jesus comes to raise the dead and restore the good work of God’s hands. One day this love will come naturally to us.
But today, honestly, it still mystifies me, like the best I could do is to stick a dime’s worth of effort on the face of it. Because even on my best days, my love is mostly self-seeking. And I’m still mostly clueless when it comes to loving people who annoy me, offend me, or hurt me. I feel like ten-year-old Michael trying to build furniture with pocket change and superglue. I don’t even know where to start.
And that’s sort of Paul’s point. I can’t do this on my own. You can’t do this on your own. We need each other, the whole body of Christ. We need Christ, and Him crucified and risen from the dead. We need time to grow up in His love.
Love isn’t something we can create. Love is God’s work for us and through us. And love, it’s not an idea. Love is a Person—God, the self-giving Father, Jesus, the beloved Son, and the Holy Spirit of love between them and from them. Listen to how the passage changes when we substitute the word “love” for the Name of the Person who is Love. And as you listen, see what images from His life come to your mind:
Jesus waits patiently. Jesus shows kindness. Jesus does not burn with envy. He does not brag. He is not inflated with pride. He does not behave rudely. He does not seek Himself. He is not easily provoked. He keeps no record of wrongs. He does not delight in evil, but rejoices in the truth.
Jesus always supports, always keeps the faith, always hopes, always endures. Jesus never fails.
Do any scenes from the Gospel-biographies of Jesus come to mind for you? I see Jesus waiting patiently to bless helpless children, whose parents brought them, while helplessly clueless disciples of Jesus try to stop them (see Mark 10:13-16). I see Jesus, tired and hungry from walking all day in the heat of the day, sitting down by a well, meeting a foreign lady who’s been shunned by her community because of her sin, and yet He still talks with her because He has not given up on her (see John 4:1-26).
I see Jesus confronting His own followers, as strictly as He’s confronted the religious hypocrites, talking honestly with them about the sin in their hearts, because He does not rejoice at injustice (see Matthew 15:1-20). I see Jesus, riding humbly on a donkey through a crowd that will turn on Him, to a throne that is His birthright (see Luke 19:28-44).
I see Jesus dying on that throne, asking His Father to forgive His friends, His enemies, betrayers, and deniers (see Luke 23:34).
I see Jesus walk out alive again from the tomb with the marks we made on Him (see John 20:20) because, like a shepherd who keeps faith with His lost sheep (see Luke 15:4-7), like a farmer who won’t lose hope for a fruitless tree (see Luke 13:6-9), like a father who still loves the son who defaces his property (see Luke 15:11-32), Jesus remains, as always, for you. And one of the great mysteries of our faith is that, in His body, in His church, even dime-sized efforts add up.
In the Name of Jesus. Amen.
i Martin Luther, Heidelberg Disputation of 1518, explanation of Thesis 28. https://thebookofconcord.org/sources-and-context/heidelberg-disputation/
ii Ibid.
iii See also, Anders Nygren, Agape and Eros. Translated by Phillip Watson. New York: Harper & Row (1969).
Reflections for March 29, 2026
Title: The most excellent way
Mark Eischer: You’re listening to The Lutheran Hour. Want to hear more? You can access hundreds of previous broadcasts at lutheranhour.org. Now, back to Dr. Michael Zeigler.
Mike Zeigler: Thank you, Mark. Today I’m visiting with Dr. Jeff Gibbs, a long-time author and teacher in our church body. Welcome back to the program, Jeff, and a blessed Palm Sunday to you.
Jeff Gibbs: Thank you, Mike, also to you, and it’s a pleasure to be here.
Mike Zeigler: So today’s message was based on this really famous passage from 1 Corinthians 13, the “love chapter” as it’s sometimes called. It’s one of those passages that you hear it maybe at weddings, it’s associated with love and marriage. But as I mentioned in the sermon, that’s not the context in the letter. So Jeff, could you just outline again what is the context of 1 Corinthians 13 and the chapters that surround it?
Jeff Gibbs: Yeah, the context is Christians who have been putting one another down, insisting that they are more important, Christians who have been despising one another and not being patient. I sometimes would joke and say, 1 Corinthians 13 should not be read at a wedding. It should be read at marriage counseling. Right? And of course, it’s Christ’s love, as you proclaimed. So if Christ’s love is weak or fading or absent, something’s bad wrong here. And so Paul is calling them to a different posture toward one another in light of Christ’s posture toward them.
Mike Zeigler: Again, I mentioned this in the sermon, that when I meditate on these verses, sometimes I feel good about them, like I could wait patiently, I could show kindness. But other times they feel like something I can never live up to. How does Paul mean for them just to be more than just an ideal that hangs over us that we can’t live up to?
Jeff Gibbs: Well, I can’t read the mind of the apostle here, right? But in a way, I think of some of the things that our Lord said in the Sermon on the Mount, for instance. He said, “If you’ve heard that it was said you should not commit adultery. But I say that whoever looks at a woman to desire her has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” Okay, now how are you going to apply that? I think maybe the first thing to do, as basic as it sounds, is just believe it. “Oh wow. Okay, just believe it. Love suffers long. It bears patiently. Love doesn’t rejoice in evil, but rejoices together with the truth. Oh!”
Mike Zeigler: So he’s actually describing a better way…
Jeff Gibbs: Exactly.
Mike Zeigler: …for us to live. The most excellent way.
Jeff Gibbs: Exactly. And they may know it, they may not, but he’s teaching them. And so the first thing to do with true and wholesome teaching is to simply believe it. Right? And then you might turn to a family member or a friend to say, “Oh man, I need to do this for that person today, and I’m going to do it.” Why? Because I’m a branch in the vine, because this is my friend and I love them. Or you might say, “Okay then, I’m not even close to this. What am I going to do?” See, so it depends on how the teaching impacts you, but I think it can impact me on the same day maybe in different ways. But the first thing is to just believe it and then let it do whatever it’s supposed to do always in the context of God’s love for us. Right? God is love. Right? John said that, not Paul, but …
Mike Zeigler: And the fact that all God’s people are involved here is—and that’s part of His point I hear—is that none of us are sufficient to do this on our own, to have this display of love is part of the work of the whole body of Christ.
Jeff Gibbs: Exactly right. And today I’m a giver. Tomorrow I’m a receiver. And so C.S. Lewis said one time that when the perfect comes… you know, Paul ends the chapter that way…he said that will be a time of unbounded giving and unashamed receiving. We sometimes say it is more blessed to give than to receive because I’m embarrassed to receive. “Oh no, thank you. No, that’s okay. Don’t bother.” See? But no, I have needs. You have needs. I need to be loved, so do you. And so we can give and receive in the community, whether it’s the community in a home or community in a Bible class, or at a church potluck, or just out with friends. I mean that’s just the way it works.
Mike Zeigler: Thanks for joining us.
Jeff Gibbs: Thank you, Mike. It’s a pleasure to be here.
Music Selections for this program:
“A Mighty Fortress” arr. Peter Prochnow. Used by permission.
“Crucifer” by Sydney H. Nicholson, arr. Peter Prochnow. Used by permission.
“A Lamb Goes Uncomplaining Forth” From The Concordia Organist (© 2009 Concordia Publishing House) Used by permission.