Over the last few years, my understanding of love has changed more than almost anything else.

For a long time, I assumed love was easiest to recognize in the extraordinary. The gifted speaker. The influential leader. The passionate worshiper. The person who seemed completely devoted to God.

None of those things are bad. In fact, they can be beautiful gifts. But I’ve slowly learned that gifts and love aren’t the same thing. And neither are gifts and maturity.

I always smile when God seems to weave together things I wasn’t trying to connect. As I was outlining this final issue in our Recognizing The Real series, our pastor preached from 1 Corinthians 13 on Sunday morning.

It felt like the perfect ending to this series. For weeks we’ve been asking how to recognize what is real.

Paul answers that question by reminding us that love isn’t recognized by what impresses us. It’s recognized by the kind of character that quietly reflects Christ.

One of the things that strikes me about 1 Corinthians 13 is where Paul places it. He writes to a church that has been richly gifted by God (1 Cor. 1:7). Yet despite those gifts, the church was marked by division, pride, and immaturity. Right in the middle of his discussion about spiritual gifts, he pauses to remind them of something greater: love.

Paul pauses in the middle of his discussion to say something astonishing.

“If I have all these things but have not love… I am nothing.”

That should make us stop. Because it means that something can look deeply spiritual without actually reflecting the heart of Christ.

When Paul describes love, he doesn’t point us to the spectacular. He points us to the ordinary. Love is patient. Love is kind. It isn’t arrogant. It doesn’t insist on its own way. It isn’t easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs.

Notice what he’s doing. He’s teaching us how to recognize real love. Not by charisma. Not by influence. Not even by gifting. But by character.

The kind of character that quietly reveals itself day after day.

“Christian maturity is shown through everyday attitudes and acts of love.” That doesn’t minimize spiritual gifts. It simply puts them in their proper place.

Gifts may tell us how someone is wired. Love reveals whether they’re becoming more like Christ.

Perhaps the invitation this week isn’t to become more impressive. Perhaps it’s to become more like Christ.

Take a few moments this week to prayerfully reflect:

Rather than rushing to make changes, simply ask the Lord:

“Let my life become a clearer reflection of Your love.”

Maybe that’s why Paul spends so little time describing what love can accomplish and so much time describing what love looks like.

Because love isn’t most clearly recognized by extraordinary moments. It’s recognized by consistent character.

The more I look at Jesus the more I’m convinced that’s the kind of love worth learning to recognize.

As I was finishing this final issue, our pastor’s Sunday sermon felt like the perfect companion to this series. If you’d like to spend more time reflecting on Paul’s vision of Christlike love, I think you’ll find it encouraging!

As we wrap up this Recognizing the Real series, I couldn’t think of a more fitting song to end with.

Throughout these four issues, we’ve been learning to recognize authentic love—not by what is most impressive, but by what most resembles the heart of Christ.

That’s why this song feels less like a conclusion and more like a prayer. A prayer that our lives would become a visible reflection of His love. Not simply through what we accomplish, but through the quiet, everyday character that Paul describes in 1 Corinthians 13.

As you listen this week, don’t just hear the lyrics. Make them your own prayer.

“Let my life be the proof… the proof of Your love.”

In Christ,
Ben