Jump Start # 1288

1 Corinthians 13:5 “does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered”

  Our Jump Start yesterday took a look at the previous verse from today. This is Paul’s long definition of Biblical love. This is often referred to as the “love chapter of the Bible.” As we found yesterday, this was not placed here for weddings, but rather to help divided and disgusted brethren get along with one another.

The love Paul talks about has nothing to do with Valentine’s, hearts, candle light dinners, holding hands or romance. There was another word for that. This is not a feeling, but a choice. This is a choice that is made not based upon how the other acted. This is not a re-action, but an action. This is God’s relationships toward us. This is why God sent Jesus while we were still sinners. God loved us. He chose to love us. It wasn’t that we were so cute, adorable, good or irresistible. In fact, we were the opposite. We were rebellious, stubborn, selfish and sinful, yet God still chose to love us.

Our verse today contains four descriptions of this love. Each statement is presented in the negative. The expression “does not,” is used three times. “Is not,” is used once. Paul shows us what love is not. In the context of prideful Corinthians who were fussing over spiritual gifts, these words came with name tags on them. They were selfish. They were acting terribly. They were walking about with chips on their shoulders. They were a real mess and mostly they were not acting anything like the God who loved them and had saved them.

Of these four expressions, I want to focus upon the last one, “does not take into an account a wrong suffered.” Notice how other Bibles word this expression:

• It keeps no record of wrongs (NIV)
• Resentful (ESV)
• It doesn’t keep a record of wrongs that others do (CEV)
• Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others (MSG)

Love doesn’t keep score. Love doesn’t keep track. Do you know what the language of score keeping is? Two simple words, “Always,” and “Never.” Those are the words of one who has kept track. He knows what the score is. It comes out this way: “We always get to do what you want to do.” How does one know that? Score keeping. “We never get to do what I want to do.”  Score keeping.

We keep track of the score in marriage. We always go to your mother’s house for the holidays, or, you never want to go see a show that I want. Always…Never…A lot of score keeping can take place in a marriage.

Score keeping takes place in church as well. You hear some complain, “He always leads singing.” How do they know? Score keeping. They “never” call on me for prayer. He’s got the tally. He knows the score.

But our passage carries a much deeper and more serious problem here. It’s not just the always and the never, but the keeping track of wrongs. Someone has been keeping score on others. This reveals a judgmental and evil spirit. There is something wrong deep inside the heart of the score keeper. Maybe it’s jealousy. Maybe it’s a bit of self righteousness. Maybe they have been standing with the prodigal’s older brother for too long. What’s missing is the spirit of forgiveness.

When one forgives, the score is erased, love is triumphant and joy is restored. With forgiveness, the past remains in the past. Forgiven wrongs are put in an unmarked grave that is never visited again. The score keeper doesn’t do that. He remembers. He reminds others. His radar is always on and his eyes are wide open to catch any infraction of others. He is quick to denounce, condemn and execute punishment. He has no grace in his heart. He has forgotten what God has done for him. He has forgotten that God does not treat him this way. He has forgotten that the Lord promised if we will not forgive others, then God will not forgive us. The score keeper doesn’t smile much. There’s not much to smile about. All he sees are things that are wrong. He worries others with his constant complaining and finger pointing. He picks the scabs off of fresh wounds. He will not allow things to heal. The score keeper stirs things up. The score keeper is a trouble maker.

In a troubled church like Corinth, the score keeper will keep division alive. He will draw sides. He will make matters worse. He is a pill and a pain. I’ve known many score keepers in my life. I kept them busy watching me. They’d love to point out mistakes in sermons, articles and grammar. They loved to compare. They were never content, never satisfied, never happy. The score keeper fills his days watching others and keeping the score.

Oh, the memories or actually the nightmares that race through my mind when I recall the score keepers in my life. But then it dawns on me, haven’t I been score keeping the score keepers? Haven’t I been guilty of the very thing that they have done? Why have I not let these things go? Why do they still hurt and bother me? Maybe, I too, haven’t forgiven.

Love doesn’t keep score. Love forgives. Imagine the score keeper with Jesus’ words about forgiving seventy times seven. The score keeper would have his calculator out and be counting. Love doesn’t do that. Love forgives. Love extends the Olive branch. Love accepts. Love builds bridges. Love looks in the mirror more than it does at others. Love knows what the score is, that we are all sinners who need Jesus. No one of us are better than others.

The difference love makes is huge. It can bring the fallen back home. Love is kind, sweet and helpful. Love invites. Love welcomes. Without love, the church becomes the judgment bench. That may be the reason some never come back. They have enough pain already, they don’t need the church to make them feel worse. Fallen preachers, wayward teenagers, struggling families, new converts who can’t seem to hit on all cylinders—they don’t need judgmental looks and fingers pointing at them. They need love.

Love doesn’t keep score. Love covers a multitude of sins. Love conquers. What a divided church needed to hear was that love has turned off the score board. The game goes on, but no one knows the score. It doesn’t matter. What our congregations, our families and our marriages need is the same thing.

Love is…

Roger