Epiphany 4 Yr C Jan 31 2016 The Love that Begins All Love St Luke’s Attica/Christ Church Albion

+Couple’s preparing for marriage almost always choose today’s Epistle reading for their wedding. Invariably, they choose it because they think it so clearly expresses the love they have for each other, the love which, in their mind, will be the sole focus  of the wedding ceremony they’re planning. “Oh,” they exclaim, it’s PERFECT.” But then the cranky old priest informs them that this reading isn’t about their love for one another. That it doesn’t have anything to do with them directly, that St Paul didn’t think much of marriage anyway, so their love was not even on his radar as he penned these words to his flock in Corinth.
And therein lies a big problem. This reading has been given the full Hallmark make-over—and in the process it has been relegated to the “wedding reading,” so ubiquitous, that we fail to notice the profound and earth shattering message Paul was providing. You see what Paul is saying, in short, is that without God, nothing matters. Nothing.
 That promotion you just got at work? Without God? Big deal.
That wonderful partner you just promised to love and to cherish until you are parted by death? Without God? Nothing.
The healing you’ve received from that horrible illness? Without God in the picture?  Forget about it.
Paul is telling us that all those gifts we’ve been given, all the gifts of the spirit he’s been blathering about in the previous chapter are completely and utterly worthless—they mean absolutely NOTHING if they aren’t wrapped in, infused with, and born out of Love.
Not the love of mother to child, not the love of husband to wife, not the love of partner to partner, not the love of friend to friend, but the Love from which all these loves emanate. The Love from which all of Creation pours: God.
In his very Paul way (rambling harsh and at times convoluted) Paul is telling us that GOD IS LOVE.
God is THE LOVE that puts the warmth in the sun, the sparkle in your beloved’s eye, the giggle in a  child, the blue in the sky and the hope of the world. And without it, without this Love above all other loves? Well without it our gifts, no matter how vast, no matter how amazing, no matter how cherished, end up like so many discarded toys a few days after Christmas: a bunch of twisted plastic, crumpled tissue paper, broken boxes and torn ribbons, forgotten and tossed aside.
A couple of years ago I began my Christmas Eve sermon by remembering this exchange I had with my niece Alyssa when she was a little girl:
“What’s this?” “A present for you.” “For me?” “Yes, it’s for you.” “Why?” “ Because I love you very much.”
It was either Christmas or her birthday and I was giving Alyssa a gift. Presents were kind of new to her, and she didn’t quite get that this was just for her… to keep. Forever! She was delighted beyond belief with the gift. But it wasn’t the doll or the book or the toy, it wasn’t even the thrill of receiving a gift from another. No for that little girl it was (and I might say, still is for the almost 25 year old woman she has become) the love which led me to want to give her something. That’s what gave her such a thrill. Out of her appreciation of that love, out of her love for me came her unbridled innocent response of joy: “For me? Especially for me?”
You see, little Alyssa got it right all those years ago: the REAL gift isn’t the toy or the book, or the ability to prophesy, or to heal or to preach or to do altar guild, or host coffee hour or serve on vestry—the REAL gift, the ONLY gift is Love.
We can be the greatest at what we do—the best lawyer, the best writer, the best teacher, the best nurse, the best volunteer, the best mother, the best father, the best friend, the best partner, the best the best the best—but if we do these things for our own glory and not for God’s, if we do these things for our own gain solely and not for the good of the whole, if we do these things in a vacuum oblivious to our responsibility to the world around us, then these gifts, these skills, these talents are just a noisy clanging bell signifying absolutely nothing.
The astonishing thing about this reading, the thing lost on so many of us who have heard the reading ad nauseum at weddings is this:
The Love of which Paul speaks “bears all things. Believes all things. Hopes all things.”
It. Never. Ends. Everything else—everything else—will end. All our gifts—no matter how fabulous-- all that we are and all that we have will end. It will all decay and crumble. It will all be forgotten and lost. But, not love. Not this Love that is God. Not this Love that fueled the dawn of creation. Not this Love that welled up and came to live among us in the person of Jesus Christ.
This Love, the Love beyond all understanding, the Love beyond full comprehension, the Love we can only see through a glass dimly until the Last day—this is the Love that knits us, inextricably and forever, to God. AND, it is the Love that, inextricably and forever, knits us to one other. For it is in us and through us that the Love to end all Loves, the Love that is God takes shape as the Body of Christ in this world.
So unwrap your gifts, exclaim your joy and know that this Greatest Gift of All, the Love that is God, will never end, it will never wear out and it will never ever fail us. Thanks be to God! +

***originally preached at Good Shepherd and Ascension Epiphany 4, 2013***