Restoring Apostolic Faith

(A call to grow up, read well, and stop living off inspirational refrigerator magnets)

There are few passages more quoted, embroidered on pillows, printed on coffee mugs, or read at weddings than 1 Corinthians 13. We hear the words—“Love is patient, love is kind…”—and we nod along as if we already understand what Paul meant. But what we often carry into the text is not what Paul wrote, nor what the Corinthian church heard. We bring Western sentimentality, pop-Christian romanticism, and several decades of emotionally therapeutic religion and call it “biblical love.”

We hear “love is patient” and imagine gentle emotional tolerance.

We hear “love is kind” and picture soft-spoken encouragement.

We hear “love never fails” and assume love makes everything work out in the end.

But the Hebrew and early Christian understanding of love was not sentimental. It was covenantal. It was costly. It was not abstract affection; it was fidelity, endurance, truthfulness, and moral backbone. Love didn’t look like emotional protection; it looked like holy stubbornness. Love did not avoid the hard things—it walked directly into them.

The Words Themselves Are Stronger Than We Make Them

When Paul writes:

“Love is patient”

Makrothymia — long-suffering, the ability to endure provocation without abandoning the relationship.

This is not passive tolerance. This is covenant endurance even when someone’s failures cost you something.

“Love is kind”

Chrēsteuetai — active benevolence, doing good even when nothing is owed, even when the recipient is difficult.

Kindness isn’t being “nice.”

Kindness is choosing righteousness toward another at cost to yourself.

And then the line most abused:

“Love never fails.”

Ou piptei — does not collapse, does not break covenant, does not give up because the road is costly.

This is not Hallmark sentiment. This is Mount Sinai covenant language.

This is the love that keeps its word even when the other side does not deserve it.

So when someone says, “Love never fails, and God is love, therefore God cannot fail,” they are technically quoting Scripture, but they are applying it sentimentally, as if “love” means God’s primary job is to protect us from discomfort, confusion, or pain.

This is why we must always return to the whole of Scripture, not just the parts that sound comforting.

God’s Love Is Not Soft

The same Bible that says God is love also says:

“Our God is a consuming fire.” (Heb 12:29)

Love purifies.

Love disciplines.

Love judges.

Love uproots what destroys us.

Just because something feels intense does not mean it is divine.

Your fast-burning relationship of five minutes that feels like “a consuming fire” may simply be infatuation, emotional projection, or loneliness with a soundtrack. Not every fire comes from God. Some fires are just gasoline and desperation.

If we only take the verses that sound gentle and avoid the verses that confront us, we end up constructing a God who never says no, never calls us to mature, never challenges our assumptions, and never contradicts us. And that god is not the God of Scripture.

That god is self-worship wearing a Christian t-shirt.

The Hallmark Church

For the last 30 years, much of Western Christianity has discipled people not to know God, but to feel inspired.

This looks like:

• Sermons that are motivational speeches with Bible verses glued on.

• Prayer lives that are mostly emotional therapy rather than communion.

• Worship that aims to create a mood instead of reverence.

• People who “know” verses but have never read whole letters.

• A Christian identity built on vibes instead of Scripture.

And then we wonder why believers are spiritually fragile, easily discouraged, easily deceived, and constantly in emotional cycles of “I think God loves me” → “Maybe He doesn’t” → “Maybe none of this is real.”

When someone’s entire faith is built on how things feel, then when life hurts (and life always hurts), they assume God failed them.

But God didn’t fail.

Their foundation did.

Spiritual Immaturity is the Real Enemy

Paul confronted this exact problem in Corinth. They wanted spiritual experiences, spiritual prestige, spiritual intensity—but without discipline, obedience, and endurance.

So he writes 1 Corinthians 13 not as a wedding poem, but as a rebuke.

You want spiritual power?

Then learn love that endures.

Learn love that sacrifices.

Learn love that tells the truth when the truth is costly.

That is maturity.

And the reason many believers never grow into maturity is simple:

They want the fruit of Christian faith without the discipline that produces it.

It is easier to repost a verse than to obey it.

It is easier to “feel inspired” than to repent.

It is easier to say “God is love” than to actually love like He loves.

Because the real thing requires study, prayer, humility, self-control, and accountability.

The Way Out of the Emotional Rollercoaster

Spiritual stability begins when we lay aside religious sentimentality and return to:

1. Reading Scripture in context. Not verse-cutouts.

2. Submitting ourselves to the text, even when we don’t like it.

3. Letting love be covenantal, not emotional.

4. Learning patience and kindness as disciplines, not moods.

Because Jesus isn’t standing distant.

He’s not silent.

He’s not disappointed, confused, or surprised by our cycles.

He’s simply saying:

Stop running after feelings.

Come back to Me.

Learn to love the way I love.

I will make you strong.

Hallmark Christianity will keep you spiritually thirsty forever.

The real Gospel will give you roots, endurance, clarity, and peace that does not break when life gets heavy.