THE CENTRALITY OF LOVE
The Centrality of Love (1 Corinthians 13:1–3)
Paul begins this chapter like a holy roar of thunder. Before he paints the beauty of love, he exposes the emptiness of religion without it. His words strip away every appearance of greatness until only the heart remains. Love, he says, is not one virtue among many. It is the lifeblood of them all. Without love, everything else—speech, faith, knowledge, sacrifice—turns hollow.
“Even if I could speak every human language, and even the language of angels, if love isn’t in it, my words are just noise—like a clanging cymbal with no song in it” (v. 1).
That image stays with you. A cymbal that crashes, but never carries a tune. Noise that fills the air but never touches the heart. It is possible to speak beautifully and still sound empty in heaven’s ears. Without love, even the most powerful message becomes nothing but echo.
The early church knew what it meant to speak with tongues—a gift given for a time to confirm the gospel as it broke into new lands. But even then, Paul warned: gifts fade, signs cease, languages stop. The proof of God’s power was never in sound but in love. And now, though those temporary gifts have fulfilled their purpose, the greater gift remains. Love still speaks every language.
Words without love are sound without soul. The Spirit reminds us, “Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks” (Matthew 12:34). If love doesn’t live in the heart, truth turns harsh. The voice may speak Scripture, but without love, it cannot reveal Christ.
Paul then moves from speech to sight.
“Even if I could see what others can’t, understand every mystery, and know everything there is to know—even if I had the kind of faith that could move mountains—but don’t have love, I am nothing” (v. 2).
There’s a difference between having gifts and having grace. You can understand the Word of God yet miss the heart of God. You can know doctrine and still lack devotion. Knowledge makes a man look tall, but love makes him real.
Faith that moves mountains may still leave the heart unmoved. The miracles of the early days confirmed the Word, but now the completed Word confirms itself. What we need now is not more signs, but more love. True faith doesn’t need fireworks. It needs faithfulness.
“Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up” (1 Corinthians 8:1). It’s possible to be brilliant in truth and barren in tenderness. The mind can be sharp, and the heart still cold. But love warms both.
Then Paul brings it closer. “Even if I gave everything I owned to feed the hungry, and even gave my body up to be burned alive—if love isn’t the reason behind it, it counts for nothing” (v. 3).
Here he confronts every false motive that hides behind good deeds. You can give generously and still not give yourself. You can look holy but live hollow.
Think of the widow in the temple. She had almost nothing, yet gave everything. Just two coins, but her heart was in both. Heaven watched her hand and smiled (Mark 12:41–44).
Now think of Ananias and Sapphira. They gave much but lied in the giving. They didn’t die for what they kept. They died because their hearts were not in what they gave. Their gift was covered in pretense, not love (Acts 5:1–11).
Love is what makes a small gift great. Love turns sacrifice into song. Love makes the least look like the most in God’s eyes.
Without love, even the most impressive work is nothing more than smoke without fire.
The truth hits deep. The measure of a man is not found in his gifts or knowledge or even his service. It is found in his love. Without it, ministry becomes machinery. Duty becomes drudgery. Truth becomes noise.
Love is not an emotion we stir up. It is a life that flows down, from Christ through His Spirit to us. “The love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit” (Romans 5:5). It is not something we achieve. It is something we receive.
When we love, the world sees Christ. “By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:35). The power of the early church wasn’t in its miracles but in its mercy. And the proof of the Spirit’s presence today isn’t in tongues or signs but in love that never fails.
So before we seek to preach or to know or to do, we must first seek to love. All gifts fade. All signs cease. All knowledge passes. But love—love remains.
Bryan Dewayne Dunaway
