1 Corinthians 13:1-13
I’ve never really been religious even though my parents are straight razored Catholics. Never was attracted to praying or using an external being as a crutch through life (it is helpful though), and growing up in the Middle East didn’t make it any easier. Turned me off even more since we’d be doing masses in someone’s cramped living room, and - at the time - it felt like everyone there was desperate for a sense of normalcy, grasping at straws to make them feel at home. I don’t blame them now though, realized that it gave them some semblance of purpose and community.
But Friday mass had more of a “hanging out” vibe compared to that awe-inspiring atmosphere inside a church. Where rows and rows of pews waved with a sea of antennas, each one randomly dialing in and out inbetween the sermon’s station and their own one playing songs of taxes. When a cough or a baby’s cry joined the chitters of birds perched on top of Christ’s nest-turned crown, and would then play cosmic pingpong with the domed ceilings. Their residuals would peter off into the hum of airconditioners, before being echoed back again by another cough from the other side.
The former wasn’t really a good environment to drill in God and religion, and I was a nihilistic teen, drifting off with the trend and thinking he knew what was what. Not saying the latter could’ve helped with that, but at least it was a free concert with jaw-dropping acoustics instead of a boxed room packed with sardines - our body heat drowsed in melatonin.
As I got older, and less stupid, I realized religion’s a good framework to build your life around, and warmed up to the idea of it, accepting that everyone has their own way of getting through the days and weeks. Still not fully into religion as a whole, but atleast I can see how applicable and beautiful the messages are as I sift through generations of systemic manipulation, rather than closing myself off due to the more extremist takes on it.
One passage in particular is 1 Corinthians 13:1-13
If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
A good reminder for what matters in life: Love who you can, when you can, and where you can, especially yourself. And that, without it, you’re pretty much bones with meat hanging onto you. Also points out that you don’t really know everything in the present, and drills in the whole “hindsight’s 20/20” aspect of life. Gives you a good reason to push through heavy times and long darks.
Didn’t find it from the bible though - never read it - but came upon the passage from Famous Prophets (Stars) by Car Seat Headrest. A woman closes off the 16 minute epic with the last few verses over a bedrock of fleeting guitar wails and percussions. Then both instruments gradually teeter off, giving the last few words some space to breathe.
I’m still figuring it out, trying not to listen to that voice that thinks it’s all just some hippie koombaya shit, and just trying to find a balance in between instead.