"If I speak in human tongues or even the speech of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal," Strong words to one who makes his living trying hard to speak in the tongues of angels, or at least of Billy Graham. I could pass peacefully if, after one of my sermons, I overheard someone on the third row say to her boyfriend, "Dr. Willimon sounded just like an angel today." I'm in the "tongues of men and of angels" business. And yet, says Paul in this thirteenth chapter of Corinthians, without love, all my poetry is auditory pollution. Without love, the greatest speech by the greatest rhetorician is a cymbal dropped on the floor. Spoken without love, all the orations of Cicero are no better than the first blast on a rented trumpet by a fourteen-year-old who's only takin…