To recap Paul’s teaching in 1 Corinthians 13: It is possible to practice the supernatural without love. It shouldn’t be, but it is. Not only do we see it all the time—and it’s a shame—Paul warned Corinth that, though it’s practiced, it ultimately benefits the miracle-worker nothing. Then, of course, he defined the acts of love we should see in anyone who purports to work in the Spirit’s power.
Next he reminds us about which of the two should take priority: The miracles, or the fruit of the Spirit. Clearly, Paul’s vote is for the fruit.
Love never falls down—though
one day prophecies will be needed no longer, though tongues will rest, though knowledge will be needed no longer. After all, we know partial data. We know partial data. Whenever the End comes, the partial data will come to nothing. While I was a boy, I spoke, thought, and reasoned like a boy; when I grew up, I needed the boyish things no longer. These days, I see through an unclear mirror. Those days, face to face. These days, I know partial data; those days, I will know as thoroughly as I am knownby God . And these days, we have trust, hope, and love—and love is the best of all.—Paul, 1 Corinthians 13.8-13 KWL
The cessationist view.
First I should digress and point out how cessationists tend to abuse this passage.
I admit I had to insert the words “one day” into my translation of verse 8. That’s because cessationists believe the “one day” has come already: When Paul wrote how prophecies will be needed no longer and tongues will rest, they assume Paul meant the present day. They believe miracles were for bible times. Not today.
In verse 10, Paul makes it clear precisely which “one day” he was speaking of: When the End comes. When Jesus returns to rule the earth personally. In that day, there won’t be any need for prophecy—for Jesus will be here personally, to speak to us directly, and won’t need prophets. Everybody will be able to hear him. There will no longer be any second-guessing, no question, about what the Lord just said. Even those with no faith at all will be able to hear him.
Same with tongues. When the End comes, we won’t need ’em. Jesus will be here personally, and we can speak to him personally. We won’t need prayer-tongues, for we won’t have trouble articulating ourselves—and when we do, Jesus will help us along. We won’t need prophecy-tongues for the same reason we won’t need prophecy. We won’t need baptismal tongues, for Jesus can confirm for us right there whether we’ve been baptized in the Spirit. It’s like Paul said with his unclear mirror metaphor: We won’t have to worry any longer about getting our messages from God in fragments. We’ll get them directly from Jesus’s mouth.
But in the KJV, verse 10 reads, “But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.” And cessationists choose to believe “that which is perfect” refers to the bible. When the bible is come, the partial stuff—namely prophecy and tongues—shall be done away. Because, they say, we don’t need ’em. We have the bible. Why communicate in these inefficient ways with God directly, when we have this very efficient bible to read?—after all, if the bible said so, we can take it to the bank. But if a prophet says so, we have to go to all the trouble of testing the prophecy, of confirming it, of waiting and seeing… not to mention all the fake prophets who want to lead us astray. No no. Best to just read the bible and have no more questions.
I understand where they’re coming from. It is much easier to put away our doubts and just go with statements from the bible. Here’s the problem: The bible doesn’t tell us everything. It explains salvation. It describes God, through Jesus. It points us to him. It lays out God’s expectations for us. But it tells us nothing about God’s particular, individual will for you, or me, or anyone. And claiming that God left us a bible, then stopped talking to us ’cause he said everything he cares to within the pages of the bible, is basically saying God has abandoned us. Contrary, of course, to the bible. (He 13.5)
Here’s another problem. Among the things Paul said would stop, was knowledge. No, he wasn’t necessarily talking about supernatural knowledge. He only said gnósis/“knowledge.” More than likely he was talking about knowledge of, or from, God. Now, does anybody believe this sort of knowledge has ceased? Does anyone teach it’s no longer possible to deduce God’s existence from, say, nature? Or from the scriptures? Even cessationists accept and teach that God speaks to us through the scriptures. But if God turned off the prophecy, he therefore turned off the knowledge as well. And we can’t accept that interpretation: It goes against common experience and common sense.
As I said, Paul was writing about the End. In the End we won’t need to have God revealed to us in any special way, ’cause he’ll be here, on the planet, nice and obvious, visible and tangible, for anyone to go up to and speak with. In the meanwhile, the knowledge of God has to be spread through evangelism, through the scriptures, through logical deduction (though it only works up to a point), and through God’s personal appearances to people.
Okay, digression over. Back to the more important lesson.
Love outlasts supernatural gifts.
Paul focused a great deal of attention on love in this chapter. While the supernatural gifts, which he spoke on in chapter 12, are very important, love is far more important. Love will outlast the gifts. The gifts, as Paul points out here, are only part of the revelation of God. The full revelation of God comes at the End—and any partial revelation we now have, via supernatural gifts, will become irrelevant by comparison.
It’s like childhood knowledge versus adult knowledge: We’ll see how limited, how small-minded, our current knowledge is, and won’t care about it anymore. Obviously children can’t talk well, or think deeply, or reason out much. They’re still unaware how causes have effects. Adults (particularly in the Jewish and Roman cultures, where teenagers were considered adults) look back on childish reasoning with a fair amount of contempt. Paul wrote he needed them no longer—the same language he used throughout this bit. Once we Christians achieve the final revelations of the End, we’ll look back on prophecy, tongues, the little bits of knowledge we have—I’ll look back on this blog, fr’instance—and say, “What were we thinking? We didn’t know anything.”
Paul compared this with seeing himself in a distorted mirror. Corinth was known for its brass works, and among the things they made were metal mirrors. (Which work just fine, if you’ve ever been to a public bathroom, or seen your reflection in toasters, napkin-holders, metal trays, and silverware.) A good mirror would give you a good reflection, but bend the mirror—drop it on a stone floor—and it’s not so good anymore. Ever seen someone try to look at their reflection in a distorted or broken mirror? They have to move their head and the mirror around quite a bit, as they try to look around the mirror’s flaws. Just as we have to look around things, many times, to get to the truth. Paul compared seeing himself in one such mirror with being known as he really was—as God sees him.
This life, the one which requires the supernatural, is a partial life. We haven’t achieved the coming Kingdom. We live in the Kingdom-as-it-comes-to-be. In that, we still have the graces: We have trust, hope, and love. But the only one of the three which fully exists in the present tense is love. Trust and hope look to the future. When the future comes, they too won’t be needed: They’re just as partial as the supernatural gifts. But love never falls down. It will always need to be applied in both the Kingdom-as-it-comes-to-be, and the Kingdom-to-be.
So. The problem with the Corinthians—and with us—is how we get so fixated on the supernatural, we forget they’re temporary. The foundation for the eternal Kingdom is not the supernatural. It’s love. Love needs to be our focus. We need to avoid any obsession about how to best develop our prophetic abilities, or how to be proficient at tongues-speaking, or how to cure every ill person who comes to us. The usual temptation, when given God’s power to handle, is to forget why the power was given to us in the first place. We were given power to help us love our neighbors. They are eternal, too—they’re going to live forever, either in New Jerusalem or the burning lake. We’re given God’s power for now, while we try to convince them to join us in New Jerusalem. And once we’re all there, God expects us to continue to live in love. So let’s straighten our priorities: Love first. Supernatural second.