WHENEVER I HAVE the privilege of officiating a couple’s wedding ceremony, I typically ask what Scripture passage they would like me to include as we plan the service. Some tell me they don’t have a preference, and leave the decision entirely up to me. Some say they’d like to include Genesis 2:24, about the two becoming one flesh. And there’s a smattering of other favorite verses. But the most common answer is 1 Corinthians 13, which many Christians have called “the love chapter.”

Even if they don’t ask for it, I’ll tell them that I’m going to preach on it anyway. I want them to know: if you’re going to stand in front of God and a group of witnesses and promise a lifetime of love, you’d better know what you’re signing up for, at least as a follower of Jesus.

OF ALL THE churches planted by the apostle Paul, the congregation in the city of Corinth may have been the most troublesome. From what we read in Paul’s letters to the Corinthians — at least, the two letters we have out of what was a longer correspondence — it seems they were a divisive, contentious bunch. In First Corinthians, Paul addresses both the problems he’s heard about and the questions they’ve asked.

The problems were many. The believers there were divided because of their loyalty to different leaders. One man was having an incestuous affair with his stepmother, and nobody seemed to think anything was wrong. Christians were taking each other to court, hurting the church’s witness by airing their dirty laundry before unbelievers. Some were engaged in other sexually immoral behaviors. People used their Christian liberty in a way that was inviting others to do things that would violate their conscience. And some had begun to say that there is no resurrection.

All that in one church. And sometime between the writing of First Corinthians and Second Corinthians, there was a falling out between Paul and some faction of the congregation. Second Corinthians seems to suggest that Paul would have had to break off his relationship with them if they didn’t change their ways. Thankfully, they did — but he still had to deal with the problem of false apostles who had come into town and were trying to undermine his credibility.

In the midst of all of this, we find a chapter on love, perhaps one of the best-known passages of the New Testament. Why does he need to include that chapter? From what I’ve already said, you might be able to guess. But let’s do a little experiment first, to show the importance of context.

BEGIN BY READING First Corinthians chapter 12. Then immediately skip over chapter 13, and keep reading with chapter 14. Except for a handful of words at the end of chapter 12 and the beginning of 14, it reads as one continuous teaching about spiritual gifts. Apparently, there was some controversy in the church over spiritual gifts; some of the members had the gift of speaking in tongues, and it seems that people who didn’t speak in tongues were being treated as spiritually lower-class. They probably asked Paul which spiritual gift was the greatest.

Paul’s first answer is that all the believers in Corinth should think of themselves as members of a single body. The body has different parts, and they’re all important; so too there are different spiritual gifts in the church, and they all matter. But then Paul ends chapter 12 by saying, “Now eagerly desire the greater gifts” (vs. 31, NIV). In chapter 14, he explains what he means by that: he believes prophecy to be superior, because it means having a word from God to edify the church as a whole.

It’s a nuanced and complete answer to their question. So why does he need chapter 13?

WE MIGHT THINK of it this way. Remember how Peter once came to Jesus to ask how many times he had to forgive his brother? He suggested seven, probably thinking that Jesus would commend him for being so generous of spirit. But Jesus completely upended that expectation by telling him a parable about a servant with an impossibly huge debt who was forgiven by an unexpected royal act of mercy; the lesson was that the servant needed to extend the same mercy to others and forgive their debts too, from the heart.

Jesus knew that if he gave Peter a literal numerical answer — be it seven, seventy-seven, or even seventy times seven — Peter wouldn’t learn the lesson of mercy. He would hold a grudge and keep count of offenses until the magical number had been reached, and then let loose on the other person with self-righteous anger.

Now translate that to Paul’s situation with the Corinthians. If they did indeed ask which was the greatest of the spiritual gifts, what would a contentious community like that do with the information? Let’s say there were ten people in the congregation who spoke in tongues, all looking down on the five who had the gift of prophecy. After reading chapter 14 of Paul’s letter, would the five then consider themselves spiritually superior to the ten?

Paul is too smart of a pastor to let that happen, if he can help it. He has an answer to that question: he really does believe that prophecy is the most desirable of the spiritual gifts. But he knows the congregation well; after all, he planted the church, spent eighteen months there, and kept up his correspondence with them after he left. Any information he lobs into a divisive setting like theirs is bound to get co-opted and misused. To the best of his ability, therefore, he has to do what he can do to make sure his words are heard rightly.

And that means that right smack dab in the middle of answering their question about spiritual gifts, he must show them the superiority of love. Even the structure of how he does this points to the need for them to change their attitude, as we’ll see next.