1 Corinthians 13 1-13 KJVThough I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.
Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.
I thought I might mention this passage, today, for no particular reason beyond the desire for a conversation. And I thought I might mention a hierarchy of charity, and see what you all make of it.
Some charities, we see as duties, others, we see as simply good to do, if one has the money to spare once the bills are paid and our obligations are met and our hobbies indulged.
We have, for example, charity to our conventional, nuclear family of two adults and 2.4 children. But few would see the breadwinner feeding the rest as charity, or even a duty. It is just what one does, because one loves. And so for our parents, though we may be obliged to them, in return for their love, and provision, when we were children.
Then our friends. We help them, when we can, because we love them. Charity.
Then our neighbourhood, our county, our state, our country. And now this charity thing is getting attenuated. We may not even know the individuals our tithes and taxes go to help. But they are at least our fellow countrymen, raised in the same society as us, and sharing our core values. We can love them, through our abstract ideas about our fellow citizenry, and not begrudge the welfare.
And then there is the rest of the world. They are other. They don't speak the same language, or read the same books, or agree with our politics, or follow the same religion. It is harder to love them; they are not like us. And so the charity runs dry.
I want to suggest that the closer one gets to following Jesus' ideal of loving one's neighbour is the closer one gets to loving these others. And that a good enough approximation of this confluence is the amount of cash we are prepared to part with to support people who need our help, maybe living in absolute poverty on less than $600 per year, but who are 'not like us'. Anyone can give to one's nearest and dearest; the true measure of charity is giving to those who are not near, and not dear. The extent of our charity, I suggest, is demonstrated by our gifts to others in reverse order of the extent of our natural loves.
Comments and criticisms welcome.
Best wishes, 2RM.
