I WAS BORN and raised in Northern California, and part of me still longs for that geography and climate. But I’ve spent many more years of my life in Southern California, always in sight of the mountains that frame the Los Angeles Basin to the north. Nobody needs a compass around here; if you can see the mountains, that’s north.

Similarly, the ancient city-state of Corinth sat at the foot of the Acrocorinth, a large craggy rock on top of which sat a temple dedicated to Aphrodite and a fortress strategically located to defend the city against invaders. Visitors to the city who came over land from the north or south would have to cross mountain ranges to get there. They didn’t have paved roads with guard rails. The mountain passes could be both high and dangerous, and travelers were at risk of falling to their death.

Did Paul have this geography in mind when he wrote about love?

AT THE END of First Corinthians 12, as we’ve seen, Paul transitions from talking about spiritual gifts to promoting the importance of love. The chapter ends with these words:

Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it. And God has placed in the church first of all apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then miracles, then gifts of healing, of helping, of guidance, and of different kinds of tongues. Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles? Do all have gifts of healing? Do all speak in tongues? Do all interpret? Now eagerly desire the greater gifts. And yet I will show you the most excellent way. (vss. 27-31)

The church is one body in Christ, Paul teaches, and each part may have a different gift. Spiritual gifts do in fact come from God, and believers should desire to have “the greater gifts.” Contrary to the Corinthians’ inclinations, however, that doesn’t mean “the most prestigious gifts”; he’ll explain what he means by “greater” in chapter 14. But now that he has their attention, he tells them that he’s about to show them something even better.

The New International Version translates this as “the most excellent way.” The Greek word translated as “most excellent” is the one from which we get the English word “hyperbole”; at root, it means to throw something beyond others, and thus suggests something superlative or beyond measure. What the NIV translates as “way” can be used metaphorically to speak of a way of life, but often refers literally to a road.

Kenneth Bailey therefore suggests translating Paul as referring to the “high road”; it’s an image that the Corinthians could easily relate to given their surrounding terrain. Similarly, he notes that when Paul later says that “Love never fails” (1 Cor 13:8), the verb “fail” can be translated literally as “fall down.” Taken together, the two verses may suggest, metaphorically, that although love is the higher and more strenuous road, those who take it won’t fall off the mountain.

IF LOVE IS the high road, then squabbling selfishly over which is the greatest spiritual gift is the low road. In English, we sometimes use a similar distinction. To take the low road is to go the easier and often more questionable path. Taking the high road may be more difficult, but it may also be the more principled or ethical thing to do.

If you’ll indulge me, let me throw in a bit of neuropsychology here. Brain researchers often refer to two pathways in the brain that they call the “low road” and the “high road.” Here’s a typical example. If someone suddenly dangles a rubber spider in front of you, you may have a sudden and visceral reaction of fear. But a split second later, you realize it’s fake and start to calm down (though you might want to chase and punish the person who pulled the prank).

That’s the low road and high road in action. In essence, the visual signal from your eyes gets routed in two directions simultaneously. The low road goes to the part of the brain that quickly and unconsciously recognizes danger and responds with strong emotion. The high road goes to the part of the brain that analyzes what you see and decides what to do. But the low road is shorter and faster; you react emotionally and your body responds before you’ve had a chance to think about it.

That’s relevant, I think, to what Paul wants to teach the Corinthians about the Christian life. To a neuropsychologist, the problems in Corinth may be all about low-road processing gone amok. People are responding to each other angrily and defensively. The boasting of some is provoking the jealousy of others. People are carrying grudges, and those grudges lead to further division.

What they need is someone to teach them the high road. That’s why Paul has to do more than just tell them that prophecy is the greatest gift; he has to show them that there is a high road, a more excellent way. Without resorting to scolding, he writes in a way that highlights what they’re doing wrong in relationship to one another. It’s as if to say, Do you recognize these negative and unloving behaviors in yourself? When you do, you need to stop and think. Don’t just react; think about what a loving person would do instead. Think about the big picture: remember how love is the most important thing, the thing that will last beyond all your precious spiritual gifts. That’s the way to follow. That’s the road you should take.

And as we’ll see next, Paul has a lot to say about the supremacy of love.