1 Corinthians Chapter 13
Agape Love: The Supremacy of Love
G. Campbell Morgan once observed that examining this chapter is like dissecting a flower to understand it; one may analyze its parts, but in doing so the fragrance and beauty can be lost. Alan Redpath added that one could almost receive a spiritual suntan by basking in the warmth of this passage. These observations remind us that this is not a text to be reduced to cold abstraction. Rather, it is a living demonstration of how the love of God, expressed in Jesus Christ and poured out by the Holy Spirit, is the supreme virtue in the Christian life.
Love is Superior to Spiritual Gifts (1 Corinthians 13:1-2)
“Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.” (1 Corinthians 13:1-2, NKJV)
The Corinthian church was enamored with spiritual gifts, particularly the gift of tongues. Paul begins by acknowledging the highest expression of this gift, “the tongues of men and of angels.” Yet even if one could speak with the eloquence of every human language and the celestial beauty of angelic speech, without love, it is reduced to noise—mere sounding brass or clanging cymbals. Josiah Gregory once noted, “People of little religion are always noisy; he who has not the love of God and man filling his heart is like an empty wagon coming violently down a hill: it makes a great noise, because there is nothing in it.” The point is clear: giftedness without love is empty and vain.
The term “tongues” here most naturally means languages. In Acts chapter 2 verse 11 and Revelation chapter 5 verse 9, the same word is used to describe actual human languages. Yet Paul’s phrase “tongues of angels” suggests that there exists a heavenly mode of speech, known to the angels of God, and occasionally granted by the Holy Spirit. Jewish tradition in Paul’s day held that angels communicated in their own language, and Paul seems to acknowledge this possibility. Even so, whether human or angelic, these gifts apart from love are devoid of spiritual value.
Paul then expands the argument. “And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.” Here, Paul includes the most esteemed spiritual capacities—prophetic revelation, comprehension of mysteries, encyclopedic knowledge, and faith of miraculous proportions. These are not hypothetical exaggerations, for Paul reminds us of Jesus’ words in Matthew chapter 17 verse 20: “So Jesus said to them, ‘Because of your unbelief; for assuredly, I say to you, if you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, “Move from here to there,” and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.’” Yet Paul insists that even if such power were present, without love, “I am nothing.” Spiritual greatness without love is spiritual emptiness.
Theological commentator Gordon Fee put it well: “Possession of the charismata is not the sign of the Spirit; Christian love is.” This draws the sharp distinction between mere giftedness and genuine spirituality. A church is not to be forced to choose between love and the gifts, for both are from the Spirit. Rather, the issue is that gifts must serve love as their goal. When the gifts are exalted above love, the body of Christ is distorted and God’s glory is diminished.
Paul emphasizes this by using the Greek term agape. The Greeks had several words for love. Eros referred to erotic love, a passionate but self-oriented love. Storge denoted familial affection, the natural bond between parent and child. Philia described deep friendship or brotherly affection, the highest form of love that man unaided could achieve. But agape was different. It was a love that gives without demanding, a love that perseveres without changing, a love that seeks the good of the other even when rejected. It is not primarily emotional but volitional, rooted in self-denial and sacrificial commitment. As Alan Redpath noted, the word agape is related to the English term agony, suggesting a love that consumes and absorbs the whole being in one great passion.
Importantly, agape cannot simply be defined as “God’s love,” for the word is also used in contexts where men “love” sin and the world (John chapter 3 verse 19; First John chapter 2 verse 15). Yet in Paul’s usage here, it clearly denotes that highest expression of love which finds its source in God and which alone validates every spiritual endeavor.
Thus, Paul’s teaching dismantles the Corinthian obsession with showy gifts. A man might prophesy with brilliance, penetrate mysteries with precision, and even move mountains with faith, but if love is absent, his ministry is nothing, and he himself is nothing. This is not about being merely unfriendly, for agape is not friendliness. It is self-denial for the sake of another, patterned after Christ, who gave Himself for sinners.Agape Love: The Supremacy of Love
G. Campbell Morgan once observed that examining this chapter is like dissecting a flower to understand it; one may analyze its parts, but in doing so the fragrance and beauty can be lost. Alan Redpath added that one could almost receive a spiritual suntan by basking in the warmth of this passage. These observations remind us that this is not a text to be reduced to cold abstraction. Rather, it is a living demonstration of how the love of God, expressed in Jesus Christ and poured out by the Holy Spirit, is the supreme virtue in the Christian life.
Love is Superior to Spiritual Gifts (1 Corinthians 13:1-2)
“Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.” (1 Corinthians 13:1-2, NKJV)
The Corinthian church was enamored with spiritual gifts, particularly the gift of tongues. Paul begins by acknowledging the highest expression of this gift, “the tongues of men and of angels.” Yet even if one could speak with the eloquence of every human language and the celestial beauty of angelic speech, without love, it is reduced to noise—mere sounding brass or clanging cymbals. Josiah Gregory once noted, “People of little religion are always noisy; he who has not the love of God and man filling his heart is like an empty wagon coming violently down a hill: it makes a great noise, because there is nothing in it.” The point is clear: giftedness without love is empty and vain.
The term “tongues” here most naturally means languages. In Acts chapter 2 verse 11 and Revelation chapter 5 verse 9, the same word is used to describe actual human languages. Yet Paul’s phrase “tongues of angels” suggests that there exists a heavenly mode of speech, known to the angels of God, and occasionally granted by the Holy Spirit. Jewish tradition in Paul’s day held that angels communicated in their own language, and Paul seems to acknowledge this possibility. Even so, whether human or angelic, these gifts apart from love are devoid of spiritual value.
Paul then expands the argument. “And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.” Here, Paul includes the most esteemed spiritual capacities—prophetic revelation, comprehension of mysteries, encyclopedic knowledge, and faith of miraculous proportions. These are not hypothetical exaggerations, for Paul reminds us of Jesus’ words in Matthew chapter 17 verse 20: “So Jesus said to them, ‘Because of your unbelief; for assuredly, I say to you, if you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, “Move from here to there,” and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.’” Yet Paul insists that even if such power were present, without love, “I am nothing.” Spiritual greatness without love is spiritual emptiness.
Theological commentator Gordon Fee put it well: “Possession of the charismata is not the sign of the Spirit; Christian love is.” This draws the sharp distinction between mere giftedness and genuine spirituality. A church is not to be forced to choose between love and the gifts, for both are from the Spirit. Rather, the issue is that gifts must serve love as their goal. When the gifts are exalted above love, the body of Christ is distorted and God’s glory is diminished.
Paul emphasizes this by using the Greek term agape. The Greeks had several words for love. Eros referred to erotic love, a passionate but self-oriented love. Storge denoted familial affection, the natural bond between parent and child. Philia described deep friendship or brotherly affection, the highest form of love that man unaided could achieve. But agape was different. It was a love that gives without demanding, a love that perseveres without changing, a love that seeks the good of the other even when rejected. It is not primarily emotional but volitional, rooted in self-denial and sacrificial commitment. As Alan Redpath noted, the word agape is related to the English term agony, suggesting a love that consumes and absorbs the whole being in one great passion.
Importantly, agape cannot simply be defined as “God’s love,” for the word is also used in contexts where men “love” sin and the world (John chapter 3 verse 19; First John chapter 2 verse 15). Yet in Paul’s usage here, it clearly denotes that highest expression of love which finds its source in God and which alone validates every spiritual endeavor.
Thus, Paul’s teaching dismantles the Corinthian obsession with showy gifts. A man might prophesy with brilliance, penetrate mysteries with precision, and even move mountains with faith, but if love is absent, his ministry is nothing, and he himself is nothing. This is not about being merely unfriendly, for agape is not friendliness. It is self-denial for the sake of another, patterned after Christ, who gave Himself for sinners.
Love and the Measure of Sacrifice (1 Corinthians 13:3)
“And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing.” (1 Corinthians 13:3, NKJV)
Paul intensifies his argument by moving beyond spiritual gifts to acts of supreme self-sacrifice. If the previous verses confronted the Corinthian fixation on tongues, prophecy, knowledge, and faith, this verse addresses the temptation to measure spirituality by outward acts of generosity and martyrdom. He establishes that even the most dramatic renunciations of self are utterly profitless apart from love.
The phrase “bestow all my goods to feed the poor” recalls Jesus’ command to the rich young ruler. In Matthew chapter 19 verses 21-22, Jesus said, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me. But when the young man heard that saying, he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions.” The young ruler’s refusal demonstrated that outward philanthropy without inward devotion is meaningless. Yet Paul reminds us that even if a man did give away everything, if love were absent, it would yield no eternal profit. Love must undergird generosity for it to have value in God’s sight.
Paul then escalates further: “And though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing.” Here the apostle envisions the ultimate sacrifice—martyrdom itself. To surrender one’s life in the flames for Christ would seem to be the pinnacle of devotion, yet without love it is empty. This is a sobering reminder that motives matter as much as deeds. A man may die bravely for his convictions and yet do so out of pride, arrogance, or self-glory rather than love for Christ and His people.
Early church history bears witness that some believers erred in this very way. Certain martyrs, enamored with the glory of their witness, came to think that the blood of martyrdom could wash away every sin. They gloried in their ability to endure suffering as though that alone secured their standing before God. Paul shatters this illusion: even if one willingly embraces the stake, if it is not animated by love, “it profits me nothing.” Matthew Poole aptly noted that this refers not to those dragged unwillingly to execution but to those who freely offered themselves to death. Still, Paul insists that without love such heroism has no eternal value.
There is some textual variation here. A few Greek manuscripts read, “if I give my body that I may glory,” rather than “to be burned.” Whether referring to literal martyrdom, the branding of a slave, or some other form of bodily suffering, the point remains unchanged. Extreme sacrifice, however noble it appears, is worthless apart from the motive of love.
This corrects another common misunderstanding: that the Christian life is primarily about sacrifice. Many believe that to give up money, comfort, or even life itself is the essence of Christianity. Sacrifice is important, for Jesus said in Luke chapter 9 verse 23, “If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me.” Yet Paul makes it clear that sacrifice by itself is not the heart of Christian living. Without love, sacrifice loses its purpose, for the essence of the cross itself was not mere suffering, but suffering motivated by love.
Paul’s logic is inescapable. Each of the things described in verses 1 through 3—tongues, prophecy, knowledge, faith, generosity, and martyrdom—are good in themselves. Yet when severed from love, they are worthless. The danger is not that these things are wrong, but that they may be elevated above love, which is best. The believer must beware of choosing the good at the expense of the best. Only love fulfills the law (Romans 13:10), only love is the fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22), and only love abides eternally (1 Corinthians 13:13).
The Description of Love (1 Corinthians 13:4-6)
Matthew Poole wisely remarked, “Lest the Corinthians should say to the apostle, What is this love you discourse of? Or how shall we know if we have it? The apostle here gives thirteen notes of a charitable person.” In this section Paul moves from the supremacy of love to its character. He does not describe love in abstract or philosophical terms, but in observable actions and attitudes. Love, according to the apostle, is not merely something one feels but something one does.
Two Things Love Is: Longsuffering and Kind (1 Corinthians 13:4a)
“Love suffers long and is kind.” (1 Corinthians 13:4a, NKJV)
At the outset, Paul describes love positively with two active expressions: patience and kindness. These are not lofty ideas detached from life but visible qualities. Love is not first defined by how it feels, but by how it acts.
Love suffers long. To suffer long means to bear patiently with the faults, injuries, or provocations of others. It is the ability to endure without striking back. This is the very heart of God Himself, as Peter wrote: “The Lord is not slack concerning His promise, as some count slackness, but is longsuffering toward us, not willing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance.” (2 Peter 3:9, NKJV). God’s patience toward rebellious sinners is the model for how believers must exercise patience with others.
The ancient preacher John Chrysostom observed that this word is used of one who has been wronged and who has the power to avenge himself but chooses not to, acting instead with mercy and restraint. This forces us to ask: when we are wronged, do we quickly seek revenge, or do we show the Christlike heart of longsuffering?
Love is kind. Kindness is the practical counterpart to patience. Patience bears with others, but kindness goes further—it actively blesses others. Love is revealed not merely in what it refuses to do (anger, vengeance), but in what it chooses to do—gentle acts of care and service. A striking test of kindness is how it is perceived by children. Children instinctively avoid the harsh and unkind, but they are drawn to those who reflect the tender kindness of Christ.
Eight Things Love Is Not (1 Corinthians 13:4b-6)
“Love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth.” (1 Corinthians 13:4b-6, NKJV)
Paul now provides a list of negatives to show what love avoids. These are essential because the Corinthian church was plagued with these very sins. Their divisions, pride, lawsuits, immorality, and misuse of spiritual gifts revealed a deficiency of love.
Love does not envy. Envy is one of the most destructive of all sins, accomplishing nothing but harm. It is the opposite of love, for love rejoices when others are blessed. Scripture shows how envy has wreaked havoc in history: envy murdered Abel (Genesis 4:3-8), envy enslaved Joseph (Genesis 37:11, 28), and envy put Christ on the cross: “For he knew that they had handed Him over because of envy.” (Matthew 27:18, NKJV). Clarke described the heart that is free from envy: “They are ever willing that others should be preferred before them.” Love does not resent the advancement of others but delights in their good.
Love does not parade itself. Love does not seek to draw attention to its own works. It does not need recognition to validate its efforts. It can give in secret, content with God’s approval rather than man’s applause. When love parades itself, it ceases to be love and becomes pride clothed in false humility.
Love is not puffed up. To be puffed up is to be arrogant or inflated with self-importance. This was a particular problem in Corinth, where spiritual pride ran rampant. Pride of face is distasteful, pride of race is divisive, but pride of grace—the belief that one’s spiritual standing makes him superior—is most dangerous. William Carey, the father of modern missions, demonstrated love’s humility. When insulted for his humble beginnings as a cobbler, he simply replied, “No, your lordship, not a shoemaker, only a cobbler!” In that humility, his love shone brighter than his critic’s pride.
Love does not behave rudely. True love produces courtesy and respect for others. It avoids offensive, coarse, or inappropriate behavior. Rudeness dishonors both the object of love and the God who commands love. Christian love shows itself in genuine good manners, not artificial politeness.
Love does not seek its own. Love is others-centered, not self-centered. Paul wrote in Romans chapter 12 verse 10, “Be kindly affectionate to one another with brotherly love, in honor giving preference to one another.” He also said in Philippians chapter 2 verse 4, “Let each of you look out not only for his own interests, but also for the interests of others.” To seek the good of others above oneself is to be Christlike, for Christ Himself came not to be served but to serve.
Love is not provoked. Many excuse irritation and outbursts of temper, yet Paul says such behavior is incompatible with love. To be easily provoked is to lack the Spirit’s fruit. Moses, though meek, lost his entrance into the Promised Land because he was provoked to anger against Israel (Numbers 20:2-11). Love restrains anger and replaces it with patience.
Love thinks no evil. Literally, love does not keep a record of wrongs. It does not store up the memory of past offenses to be used later. This is the spirit of forgiveness that mirrors Christ, who has forgiven our great debt. In contrast, some cultures have customs of preserving tokens of hatred to keep animosities alive. Sadly, many Christians do the same in their hearts. Clarke comments, “Love never supposes that a good action may have a bad motive… The original implies that he does not invent or devise any evil.” True love gives the benefit of the doubt and seeks to believe the best.
Love does not rejoice in iniquity but rejoices in the truth. Love cannot delight in wrongdoing, gossip, or injustice. It does not rejoice when others fall into sin, nor does it take pleasure in lies. Instead, love celebrates truth, purity, and righteousness. This reflects the very nature of God, who is love (1 John 4:8) and who is truth (John 14:6).
Four Companions of Love (1 Corinthians 13:7)
“Bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” (1 Corinthians 13:7, NKJV)
Paul concludes his description of agape love with four sweeping statements. Charles Spurgeon called them “love’s four sweet companions,” and they function as a summary of love’s strength, faith, optimism, and perseverance. These phrases force us to grapple with the radical nature of true Christian love, for Paul does not speak of bearing some things or enduring most things, but of bearing, believing, hoping, and enduring all things.
The Scope of “All Things”
We might have preferred Paul to use softer language, but the phrase all things leaves no escape. Human love can endure some insults, believe some promises, and hope in some situations, but divine love reaches beyond our natural limits. This does not mean that love is gullible, foolish, or blind to truth. Rather, it means that love does not set boundaries to its patience, faith, hope, and perseverance. God calls His people to love Him, love one another, and love a perishing world with a love that does not quit.
Spurgeon wisely counseled, “You must have fervent charity towards the saints, but you will find very much about the best of them which will try your patience; for, like yourself, they are imperfect… Be prepared, therefore, to contend with ‘all things’ in them.” This realism acknowledges that even within the church, love must cover constant imperfections. Love, unlike self-love, does not demand ease or comfort. It embraces difficulty for the sake of God’s glory, seeking not a tinsel crown but the eternal reward of Christ.
Love Bears All Things
The word bears can also be translated “covers.” This suggests two dimensions: love endures adversity, and love conceals the faults of others instead of broadcasting them. Peter wrote, “And above all things have fervent love for one another, for ‘love will cover a multitude of sins.’” (1 Peter 4:8, NKJV). Genuine love does not delight in exposing flaws; rather, it quietly absorbs injuries and responds with forgiveness.
Spurgeon gave two illustrations. First, he warned against busybodies who eagerly proclaim the sins of others, more interested in slander than in spreading the gospel. Love, by contrast, “stands in the presence of a fault, with a finger on her lip.” Second, he compared love to a pearl oyster, which covers an irritant with a layer of beauty until a pearl is formed. So love transforms offenses into opportunities for grace, producing patience and gentleness.
Love Believes All Things
Paul is not advocating naivety or uncritical acceptance of lies. Love does not believe falsehood, but it refuses to assume the worst without evidence. It leans toward trust rather than suspicion. Love looks for reasons to affirm rather than condemn.
Spurgeon contrasted this with the cynic who always believes the worst of others: “I know some persons who habitually believe everything that is bad, but they are not the children of love.” Instead of inventing malicious interpretations, love seeks to highlight virtue, even exaggerating goodness rather than magnifying faults. In this way, love mirrors God’s mercy, who in Christ has chosen to remember sins no more (Hebrews 8:12).
Love Hopes All Things
Love is not pessimistic but future-oriented. It refuses to declare that people are hopeless or that circumstances are beyond God’s redemption. Love looks forward with expectation grounded in God’s promises. When wronged, love does not say, “This will never change.” Instead, it hopes for the best, because it hopes in God, who is faithful to complete His work (Philippians 1:6).
This hope is not shallow optimism. It is rooted in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, which assures us that God can bring life out of death, beauty out of ashes, and joy out of sorrow. Love hopes because Christ reigns.
Love Endures All Things
Endurance takes the virtues of bearing, believing, and hoping and carries them to their fullest expression. Love not only starts well but finishes well. Where human patience runs out, divine love perseveres. It does not merely tolerate difficulties temporarily, but presses on faithfully to the end.
Spurgeon exhorted, “If your brethren are angry without a cause, be sorry for them, but do not let them conquer you by driving you into a bad temper. Stand fast in love; endure not some things, but all things, for Christ’s sake.” This reflects the command of Christ Himself: “He who endures to the end shall be saved.” (Matthew 24:13, NKJV). Endurance in love is the ultimate proof of Christian authenticity.
The Example of Jesus Christ
The best way to understand Paul’s description is to see it embodied in Jesus Christ. Replace the word “love” with His name and it fits perfectly: Jesus bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. His patience with sinners, His confidence in the Father, His hope in the joy set before Him, and His endurance of the cross are the perfect fulfillment of this passage.
By contrast, place your own name in the passage. How far-fetched does it sound? This exercise humbles us, exposing our lack of Christlike love, but also calls us to maturity. Paul deliberately placed this chapter in the midst of his discussion on spiritual gifts to show the Corinthians that giftedness is not the measure of spirituality—love is. The true sign of Christian maturity is not tongues, prophecy, or knowledge, but the daily display of enduring love.
The Permanence of Love (1 Corinthians 13:8-10)
“Love never fails. But whether there are prophecies, they will fail; whether there are tongues, they will cease; whether there is knowledge, it will vanish away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect has come, then that which is in part will be done away.” (1 Corinthians 13:8-10, NKJV)
Paul now moves from describing the qualities of love to demonstrating its permanence. In contrast to the spiritual gifts so highly prized by the Corinthians, love is eternal. It never fails, never diminishes, and never becomes obsolete. The gifts of the Spirit serve a temporary purpose, functioning as containers of God’s work during the church’s pilgrimage, but love is the very work of God itself, and therefore endures forever.
Love Never Fails
The phrase “love never fails” means that love never falls away, collapses, or comes to an end. The Corinthians exalted the gifts of tongues, prophecy, and knowledge, but Paul insists that love surpasses them all because it will never be set aside. The gifts were never intended to be ultimate; they are scaffolding around the building, useful for construction but discarded when the structure is complete. Love, however, is the finished structure itself.
The Temporary Nature of the Gifts
Paul emphasizes that spiritual gifts are both real and valuable, but also temporary. “But whether there are prophecies, they will fail; whether there are tongues, they will cease; whether there is knowledge, it will vanish away.” Prophecy, tongues, and knowledge all serve as instruments of divine revelation, but they are partial and incomplete. They are perfectly suited for the present age of imperfection, but they will not carry over into eternity. They are gifts for the journey, not for the destination.
That Which Is Perfect
The critical phrase comes in verse 10: “But when that which is perfect has come, then that which is in part will be done away.” The Greek word translated “perfect” is telos, meaning completion, maturity, or fulfillment. Some who hold a cessationist view argue that “perfect” refers to the completed New Testament canon, suggesting that miraculous gifts ceased once Scripture was finished. Yet this view fails to align with Paul’s intent. The overwhelming consensus among commentators, ancient and modern, is that Paul refers to the consummation of all things at the return of Christ. The “perfect” comes not with a book, but with the Perfect One Himself.
Paul has already used the same term in reference to the coming of Jesus Christ in 1 Corinthians 1:8: “Who will also confirm you to the end, that you may be blameless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Other passages point to the same eschatological horizon (1 Corinthians 15:24, James 5:11, Revelation 21:6, 22:13). The gifts serve the church in its state of imperfection, but when believers enter the eternal presence of Christ, the partial will give way to the complete.
Tongues Will Cease
Paul writes that “whether there are tongues, they will cease.” Some cessationists, such as John MacArthur, argue that because the verb is in the middle voice, it could be translated, “tongues will stop by themselves.” From this they conclude that tongues naturally disappeared at the end of the apostolic age. Yet this interpretation is rejected by most Greek scholars. Even if the grammar allowed such a rendering, it provides no indication of when tongues cease, only that they will. Paul’s own point is that all gifts, including tongues, cease when the perfect comes, not before.
John Calvin, though himself no supporter of the continuation of all gifts, recognized that this verse pointed beyond the present age. He wrote, “But when will that perfection come? It begins, indeed, at death, because then we put off many weaknesses along with the body.” Calvin saw the perfection as connected to the eternal state rather than the completion of Scripture.
Paul’s Style
Paul uses three slightly different verbs—prophecies will fail, tongues will cease, knowledge will vanish away—not to suggest different fates, but for stylistic variation. As Kistemaker noted, “There is virtually no distinction between the two Greek verbs that describe the termination of both prophecies and tongues… the difference is only a stylistic change and nothing more.” In other words, Paul is not making a fine grammatical point but simply emphasizing in multiple ways that all gifts are temporary, whereas love is permanent.
The Partial Nature of Knowledge and Prophecy
Paul adds, “For we know in part and we prophesy in part.” This statement is crucial, for it shows that prophecy is not identical with preaching. Preaching can expound Scripture with fullness, but prophecy, by its nature, is partial revelation. To confuse the two is to miss Paul’s argument. Preaching combines teaching and exhortation, but prophecy involves elements of revelation and prediction. Therefore, prophecy as a spiritual gift is temporary, awaiting the fullness that will come only with Christ’s return.
Illustrations of the Temporary Nature of the Gifts and the Permanence of Love (1 Corinthians 13:11-12)
“When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.” (1 Corinthians 13:11-12, NKJV)
Childish Things Versus Maturity
Paul begins with an illustration from human growth and development. “When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things.” Just as childish behavior is fitting for children but not for adults, so spiritual gifts are fitting for the church’s present, imperfect state but not for eternity. The gifts belong to our spiritual “childhood.” They are appropriate and necessary now, but they will one day be set aside.
Paul does not teach that spiritual maturity eliminates the need for spiritual gifts in this age. Rather, he emphasizes that true maturity refuses to over-emphasize the gifts, especially at the expense of love. Maturity recognizes that gifts are temporary tools, but love is the eternal measure of the believer.
Seeing in a Mirror, Dimly
Paul then turns to another image: “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face.” The contrast is between our present imperfect perception of God and the future perfect clarity that will be ours in His presence. Mirrors in the ancient world were made of polished metal, often bronze, and though Corinth was famous for producing some of the finest mirrors in antiquity, even the best reflection remained blurry and distorted. At present, our knowledge of God, though real, is partial and mediated. But when Christ returns, we will see Him with unclouded clarity—face to face.
Face to Face Fellowship
The phrase “face to face” denotes unhindered, direct fellowship with God. John echoes this truth in 1 John 3:2: “Beloved, now we are children of God; and it has not yet been revealed what we shall be, but we know that when He is revealed, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.” In that moment, there will be no barrier of sin, weakness, or mortality between us and the Lord.
In Exodus 33:11, Scripture says, “So the Lord spoke to Moses face to face, as a man speaks to his friend.” Yet even Moses could not behold the fullness of God’s glory (Exodus 33:20). Similarly, Numbers 12:8 speaks of God’s intimate communication with Moses, but this was still figurative, a way of describing free and direct fellowship. The ultimate “face to face” belongs not to the earthly experience of saints but to the eternal vision of Christ in glory. That is what Paul anticipates here—the day when believers see Christ not through sacraments, symbols, or Scripture alone, but directly in His unveiled majesty.
Knowing as We Are Known
Paul continues: “Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.” At present, even the most gifted Christian knowledge is partial and incomplete. We grasp truths about God, but dimly. We know Him through His Word, through the Spirit, and through the fellowship of His people, but our knowledge is imperfect. In eternity, however, believers will know God as fully as redeemed creatures can possibly know Him.
This does not mean that we will become omniscient, for omniscience belongs to God alone. Rather, it means our knowledge will be complete in its scope and perfect in its clarity. Just as God knows us fully—every thought, motive, and secret of our hearts—so in glory, we will know Him without distortion. Heaven’s greatest joy is not its golden streets, pearly gates, or angelic choirs, as wonderful as those are. The essence of heaven is unhindered fellowship with Christ Himself.
Charles Spurgeon captured it well: “The streets of gold will have small attraction to us, the harps of angels will but slightly enchant us, compared with the King in the midst of the throne. He it is who shall rivet our gaze, absorb our thoughts, enchain our affection, and move all our sacred passions to their highest pitch of celestial ardour. We shall see Jesus.”
Why Our Knowledge Must Wait
There is also a protective mercy in our present partial knowledge. As Spurgeon noted, if we knew the full extent of our sinfulness now, we might fall into despair. If we beheld the fullness of God’s glory, we might collapse in terror. If we had too much knowledge without sanctified capacity to use it, we would become proud. God wisely withholds full knowledge until our resurrection bodies and glorified minds are prepared to handle it without harm. In heaven, our understanding will be enlarged, regulated, and perfected by His divine order.
A Summary of Love’s Permanence: Love Abides Forever (1 Corinthians 13:13)
“And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” (1 Corinthians 13:13, NKJV)
Paul concludes this majestic chapter by drawing attention to the three enduring virtues of the Christian life—faith, hope, and love. Unlike the spiritual gifts, which are temporary provisions for the church’s pilgrimage, these three abide. They are not occasional manifestations but constant realities of the believer’s walk with Christ. Yet among them, love is supreme.
The Abiding Triad of Christian Virtue
Paul writes, “And now abide faith, hope, love, these three.” These are the pursuits that must define every Christian life. They stand in stark contrast to the Corinthians’ obsession with tongues, prophecy, and knowledge. Spiritual gifts, while valuable, were never designed to be the foundation of Christian identity. The abiding virtues are not miracles, power, or spectacular manifestations, but faith, hope, and love.
The question must be asked: What is my Christian life truly centered on? Do I hunger for experiences, recognition, or displays of power? Or do I pursue deeper faith in Christ, steadfast hope in His promises, and sacrificial love for God and others? Paul urges the Corinthians—and us—to realign our priorities with God’s, for this triad of virtues reflects His design for true Christian maturity.
Faith, Hope, and Love Throughout the New Testament
Because these three virtues are so central, they appear repeatedly throughout the New Testament.
“Remembering without ceasing your work of faith, labor of love, and patience of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ in the sight of our God and Father.” (1 Thessalonians 1:3, NKJV)
“But let us who are of the day be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love, and as a helmet the hope of salvation.” (1 Thessalonians 5:8, NKJV)
“For we through the Spirit eagerly wait for the hope of righteousness by faith. For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision avails anything, but faith working through love.” (Galatians 5:5-6, NKJV)
“Who through Him believe in God, who raised Him from the dead and gave Him glory, so that your faith and hope are in God. Since you have purified your souls in obeying the truth through the Spirit in sincere love of the brethren, love one another fervently with a pure heart.” (1 Peter 1:21-22, NKJV)
“Since we heard of your faith in Christ Jesus and of your love for all the saints; because of the hope which is laid up for you in heaven, of which you heard before in the word of the truth of the gospel.” (Colossians 1:4-5, NKJV)
“For this reason I also suffer these things; nevertheless I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep what I have committed to Him until that Day. Hold fast the pattern of sound words which you have heard from me, in faith and love which are in Christ Jesus.” (2 Timothy 1:12-13, NKJV)
These passages reveal the consistency with which faith, hope, and love form the bedrock of Christian character and conduct.
The Greatest of These is Love
Paul concludes emphatically: “but the greatest of these is love.” Why is love greater than faith and hope? The answer lies in eternity. Faith and hope are temporary in their function, while love is eternal in its essence. Faith will give way to sight when we see God face to face. Hope will be fulfilled when Christ’s promises are realized. But love will not only remain; it will expand and flourish forever in the presence of God.
Furthermore, love is supreme because it is an attribute of God Himself. Scripture declares, “He who does not love does not know God, for God is love.” (1 John 4:8, NKJV). God does not have “faith” in the sense we do, for He never trusts outside Himself. God does not have “hope,” for He knows all things and is sovereign over history. But God is love, eternally and essentially. To love, then, is to reflect His very nature.
Therefore, Paul’s point is not that believers must choose between faith, hope, and love, but that they must understand their hierarchy. Without love, the other virtues and the spiritual gifts lose their meaning. As Augustine said, “Love is the fulfillment of all our works. There is the goal; that is why we run: we run toward it, and once we reach it, in it we shall find rest.”
