Of all the descriptions of love found in I Conthians 13, the one that probes more deeply and challenges most strongly says, “Love does not seek its own” (verse 5). In other words, love is deliberately and intensely selfless. “Looking out for number one,” however, has become extremely popular in our world.
An example of this can be seen in what happened on New Year’s Day, 1967. A military officer, Colonel Jean-Bekel Bokassa, seized power in the Central African Republic, claiming that he did so to keep the Communists from seizing power.
His country was small, landlocked, and underdeveloped, and had the dubious distinction of being one of the poorest nations on earth. Its 2.2 million inhabitants had a per capita income of only $110 a year, and the literacy rate was about eight percent.
Bokassa, however, was filled with a sense of self-importance. He named himself president for life and awarded himself so many medals that he needed a specially designed coat to wear them all. He began to amass a huge fortune at the same time his country was defaulting on debts and sliding into bankruptcy. His people were held in check by a system of military terrorism.
His aspirations knew no limit, for he became convinced that he was a modern Napoleon. In December, 1976, he proclaimed himself Emperor Bokassa I of the Central African Empire. His coronation cost more than 30 million dollars, about half his country’s gross national product.
He gave himself such gifts as a six-foot diamond scepter, a twenty-four foot red velvet robe, and a two-ton gold-plated throne. A television reporter asked him how he could justify such expenditure and he replied, “One cannot create a great history without great sacrifices.” Of course he wasn’t the one making any sacrifices.
Needless to say, Emperor Bokassa is no longer with us. His citizens finally rose up in anger and slew him. It is a tragic story, but it is not an unusual one. There is a sense in which he is the archetypal modern man. When Paul tells us that “love does not seek its own,” we find ourselves asking, “Its own what?” I believe he is referring to our reputation, our rights, our fulfillment, our possessions, etc. Love, God’s love, is radically other-centered.
The great Russian novelist Dostoevski once wrote, “To love a person means to see him as the person God intended him to be.” This is a beautiful insight, but it does not go quite far enough. To love a person is not only to see him in that way, but to act so that he will become the person God intends him to be.
Any person who looks out for his or her own interests while giving no consideration to the interests of others cannot act in love. This attitude is beautifully demonstrated in the classified advertisement that appeared in a rural New York newspaper several years ago:
“Farmer, age 38, wishes to meet a woman about 30 who owns a tractor. In replying, please enclose picture of tractor.”
He was obviously more interested in getting a tractor than he was in getting married. He likely died many years later a very lonely man! I have never met a young woman who would marry a man who was more interested in gaining a tractor than in having a wife.
The Paper Pulpit 
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