Above All Things
- Brent Madaris
- Apr 7
- 5 min read

Text: 1 Peter 4:1–9
“And above all things have fervent charity among yourselves: for charity shall cover the multitude of sins.” (1 Peter 4:8)
There are certain phrases in Scripture that demand we pause and ponder. One such phrase is “above all things.” When God speaks in such elevated terms, we would be fools not to lean in and listen closely.
Peter—writing to believers under pressure, under fire, and under persecution—pens a striking command: “Above all things, have fervent charity among yourselves.” In a world unraveling around them, this was God’s divine prescription—not strategy, not self-preservation, not militant rhetoric, but love.
Setting the Context
Peter’s readers were facing a harsh reality. They had traded the will of the Gentiles—the flesh-driven life—for the will of God. And with that holy shift came earthly consequences: misunderstanding, slander, isolation, persecution. But they were not alone. Christ Himself had suffered “in the flesh,” and Peter calls us to “arm [ourselves] likewise with the same mind” (v. 1). The Christian life, according to Peter, is not about self-preservation but self-denial. We are not called to blend in but to be transformed.
He draws a line in the sand: “The time past of our life may suffice…” (v. 3). In other words: Enough already! The old life had its day, but that day is done. Now, we walk a new path—marked by holiness, self-control, and a fervent pursuit of God’s will.
And in the middle of this call to arms, Peter inserts a powerful, heart-shaping command: “Above all things, have fervent charity among yourselves…”
Above All Things… Love
Let’s not rush past that phrase. “Above all things.” It appears in a few places in Scripture, and every time, it demands deep soul-searching:
“The heart is deceitful above all things…” (Jer. 17:9) — reminding us of the desperate need for redemption.
“Above all things… swear not…” (James 5:12) — warning us about the dangers of loose and prideful speech.
“Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper…” (3 John 2) — expressing John’s deep desire for holistic well-being.
But here, in 1 Peter 4:8, we’re told that above all things, we must love—not casually, not passively, not intermittently—but with fervent charity.
The Greek word translated “fervent” paints the picture of something stretched out, intense, unrelenting. This is not the hallmark-card kind of love. This is love with sweat on its brow and scars on its hands. This is agape—the love that costs, that covers, that carries.
I. Charity Identifies Us
Jesus said it plainly: “By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.” (John 13:35)
Not by your attendance at church. Not by your theological accuracy. Not by your ministry activity. But by your love—real, visible, sacrificial love for other believers.
This kind of love isn’t a mere handshake or a half-hearted “praying for you.” It’s a soul-deep, Spirit-born, Christ-like love that bears burdens, forgives offenses, and lifts the weary.
We live in a culture that’s growing increasingly hostile to biblical Christianity. Shouldn’t the Church, then, be the one place where love abounds? Where grace flows freely? Where believers can find safety, healing, and unity?
When believers bite and devour one another, the world scoffs. When we love one another, they marvel.
II. Charity Covers a Multitude of Sins
Let’s be clear: This is not about excusing sin or turning a blind eye to error. Peter is not calling for a sentimental tolerance of evil. Rather, he is speaking of the kind of love that chooses to forgive rather than expose, to protect rather than pounce.
As Solomon wrote: “Hatred stirreth up strifes: but love covereth all sins.” (Prov. 10:12)
The idea here is not that love erases sin, but that it does not seek to magnify or weaponize the faults of others. Love restrains the tongue. Love does not gossip. Love remembers its own sinfulness and chooses mercy.
Thomas Schreiner notes, “The love that covers sins is the love that forgives and refuses to make the sins of others a public spectacle. It is the love that says, ‘I see your flaw, but I choose to respond in grace.’”
This is how God deals with us. How dare we do otherwise?
III. Charity Acts, Not Just Feels
Love is more than a feeling. It is a choice. A discipline. A lifestyle.
Peter knew this firsthand. When Jesus asked him three times, “Lovest thou me?”—it wasn’t about emotion, but mission. “Feed my lambs… feed my sheep…” Jesus called Peter to act on his love.
True love serves. True love forgives. True love dies to self.
And Peter? He eventually did give his life for his Lord—crucified upside down, tradition says. No longer boasting, no longer impulsive, but fully surrendered. That is love. And that is our call.
IV. Charity Frees Us to Pray
Back in verse 7, Peter exhorts us to be sober and to watch unto prayer. The world is ending, he says. Time is short. Christ’s return is imminent. What should we be doing? Praying. Watching. Loving.
Sober-minded believers aren’t distracted by every passing fad or fear. They are anchored in Christ, alert in spirit, and faithful in prayer. And the kind of love Peter describes creates the environment where prayer can flourish.
Strife stifles prayer. Bitterness blocks it. But love opens heaven’s gates.
V. Charity Welcomes Others
Peter closes this section by saying, “Use hospitality one to another without grudging.” (v. 9)
This is love in the Spirit. Hospitality isn’t about impressing others; it’s about embracing them. It’s practical, tangible charity. It’s feeding the hungry, inviting the stranger, making room at the table—gladly, not begrudgingly.
In a world that isolates, love welcomes. In a culture that cancels, love covers. In a time when darkness increases, love shines brighter.
Final Thoughts: Is This the Love You Live?
This is not extra-credit Christianity. This is the normal Christian life. Fervent, relentless, sacrificial, gracious love.
Above all things, God calls us to love—not to lecture, not to lord over, but to love.
Let’s stop and ask ourselves:
Is my life marked by this kind of love?
Do I cover others or expose them?
Do I forgive quickly and freely?
Do I welcome others without complaint?
Am I serious-minded, self-controlled, and prayerful?
Do others know I’m a disciple—not by my words, but by my love?
May God help us to live the kind of lives that reflect the love of Christ. And may that love—fervent charity—be the heartbeat of our churches, the banner over our relationships, and the mark of our witness in this dark world.
Because above all things, that’s what matters most.
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