Last night, in our home Bible group, after chit-chat with guests about an upcoming trip to teach Hebrews and 1 Corinthians, I ditched the planned reading of Matthew 28 (following our daily Bible reading schedule) to devote our time to 1 Corinthians 13. We read also the last part of chapter 12 and the first part of chapter 14 to set it within its context.
The reading seemed to have good effect in the hearers. Love in its divine form was perceived, apparently, for the first time; parts of it, at least. There were some ah-ha moments.
After everyone had gone home, the chapter of love still rang in my ears, and this poem began to make its way to the surface (turned out to be the second stanza). It finished its appearance this morning. It reflects, roughly, the tripartite division of the chapter.
FIT FOR A KING
by J. Randal Matheny
The greatest feats are naught but crumbling sand,
Man’s finest arts and words but wasted breath,
And bread to feed the poor’s an empty hand,
If love is lacking — all is dust and death.
To faults and errors love is never blind,
But blesses from its own deep flowing spring.
From lasting fullness, love is true and kind,
Found in peasant huts, yet fit for a king.
Love never fails, though regal gifts be spurned.
Though hope receive in heaven its full reward
And steadfast faith to sight of God be turned,
Her voice will sing anew its sweetest chord.
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