Together, throughout this liminal space between Christmas and Lent, we are taking time as a community to look at ourselves through the lens of how and who we are created to be. In Wednesday night youth, a number of weeks ago, we talked about the most important things we know about God and about who we are as God’s people – the things we would want outsiders to know through our community – and although this passage did not come up by name, the chorus of our discussion was our identity through God’s love and as people who are called to love others.

If you really zoned in on today’s reading, you might have noticed that a piece was missing in the middle of the chapter, and I’m guessing it might be the piece you could recite out loud. Just as Psalm 23 is the “funeral” passage – the passage used all throughout different denominations and flavors of Christianity as words of comfort in moments of grief, this passage is “the wedding passage.” You know it:

Love is patient, love is kind, it isn’t jealous, it doesn’t brag, it isn’t arrogant, it isn’t rude, it doesn’t seek its own advantage, it isn’t irritable, it doesn’t keep a record of complaints, it isn’t happy with injustice, but it is happy with the truth. Love puts up with all things, trusts in all things, hopes for all things, endures all things.

You’ve heard it in weddings; you’ve read it as part of internet memes describing the perfect partner, and unfortunately, many, if not all these readings have been taken dramatically out of context, warping our understanding of what this Christian expectation of love is. Are all of those important, well really, necessary things to find in a partner? Sure, but Paul was rather unconcerned (and extremely unqualified) to provide marriage advice.

So, let’s dig a bit into the context of this passage together. You see, Paul was…well, I’m not entirely sure we know too terribly much about who Paul was – even though he was the most prolific writer of Biblical texts. It’s a tricky business piecing together who someone was from letters they left behind, especially when those letters were not personal in nature, instead of centering on his perceived area of expertise.

We know from the writer of the book of Acts that Paul zealously participated in mistreatment of followers of the new religious movement of Jesus Christ and his disciples. In Jefferson’s sermon guide from a few weeks ago, he drew our attention to Acts 9, where we read that Paul was traveling on the road from Jerusalem to Damascus to persecute more of God’s beloved. Suddenly, then a voice and light came from heaven, struck him blind and asked “Saul, Saul, why are you harassing me?”  The Christ answers and gives a now-emotionally stunned and physically debilitated Saul instructions to enter into the city to find out further instruction. Through the help of folks traveling in the same direction, Saul makes it to the city, is cared for by Ananais, another one of God’s faithful, who shows him thoughtful care. Through this experience, Saul’s body is healed, and his spirit is healed as he is filled with the Holy Spirit. After this, he begins a zealous life of following the Risen Christ, even to the confusion of the original disciples. His enthusiasm proved to be a bit of a job hazard, as he was often met with, on a good day, confusion and on his worst days with death threats.

Paul traveled all throughout the Mediterranean, founding converted communities and/or offering his services some mixture of being a resident theologian, a conflict mediator and a general church consultant. It is widely believed that Paul founded the church in Corinth, and thus wrote the letter we call 1 Corinthians to address some major conflicts within the community. This idea of communal conflict brings us to the chapter just before our reading today, chapter 12. In this chapter, Paul painstakingly describes how a believers’ community should function, noting similarities between the body of Christ and the human body – just