If
I speak with the languages of men and of angels, but don’t have love, I have
become sounding brass, or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of
prophecy and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so
as to remove mountains, but don’t have love, I am nothing. If I give away
all my goods to feed the poor, and if I give my body to be burned, but don’t
have love, it profits me nothing.
Love
is patient and is kind. Love doesn’t envy. Love doesn’t brag, is not
proud, doesn’t behave itself inappropriately, doesn’t seek its own way, is
not provoked, takes no account of evil; doesn’t rejoice in
unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes
all things, hopes all things, and endures all things. Love never fails.
But where there are prophecies, they will be done away with. Where there are
various languages, they will cease. Where there is knowledge, it will be done
away with. For we know in part and we prophesy in part; but when that
which is complete has come, then that which is partial will be done away
with. When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I felt as a child, I thought
as a child. Now that I have become a man, I have put away childish
things. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I
know in part, but then I will know fully, even as I was also fully
known. But now faith, hope, and love remain—these three. The greatest of
these is love.
Image: Descent from the Cross, Rembrandt
