Love does…not BOAST
In the quiet centre of Paul’s great hymn of love, he offers this tender assertion: “Love does not boast.” The Greek word here is περπερεύεται (perpereuetai), a rare verb found only here in the New Testament. Its sound alone hints at puffing up, self-display, or making oneself the centre of the room. It carries the imagery of someone showing off or parading their virtue, intelligence, or strength with noisy, hollow fanfare.
But love, Paul tells us, does not do this.
Love does not perform. Love does not grandstand. Love does not need a stage.
In the spiritual life and in the sacred moments of our ordinary lives, this virtue often presents itself not in what is said, but in what is quietly held. To love without boasting is to be willing to disappear into the background, to let another shine, to relinquish the hunger for being noticed. This is not an easy thing to do.
Boasting is the sound of an insecure heart clanging for affirmation. Love, by contrast, is content in silence. When I imagine this phrase contemplatively, I picture a deep, clear well. Boasting is like throwing stones into it to hear the splash, hoping someone will notice the sound. Love sits beside the well, marvelling at its stillness, inviting others to look in and see their own reflection.
There is something sacred about not having to prove yourself.
To live without boasting is not the same as denying our worth or hiding our gifts. Rather, it is to be so rooted in God’s love that we no longer need to trumpet them. When the heart is full of love, the mouth need not fill the air with praise of itself. The deepest affirmations are already known in the quiet of God’s gaze.
In my own journey, I find that my boasting often arises from fear, fear of being unseen, unvalued, unworthy. But when I return to that deeper knowing, that I am the beloved of God, not because of what I can do or say, but simply because I am, I find I have nothing left to prove.
Boasting fades in the presence of love, just as artificial light fades in the morning sun.
So perhaps the invitation today is to notice, gently, without judgment, where I am tempted to draw attention to myself, and to ask: What am I truly longing for in this moment? Often, it is to be loved. And if I can let myself be loved, not for my accomplishments or my brilliance, but simply for who I am, I may discover I no longer need to boast at all.
The let us walk quietly through our day.
Let us love with deep presence and little need for applause.
Let us become, in the Spirit’s slow ways, people whose love is full, but whose mouths are often still.
For love does not boast.
Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting. Psalm 139:23-24 NIV
Jim Varsos