Sermon given by Rev. Frank Clarkson, February 18, 2024.
I'm so grateful to Aiden for preaching last week, and for his inspiration of this month’s theme, of the four loves. I'm grateful to Aiden for his great sermon, in which he unpacked these four kinds of love: affection, friendship, romance, and charity or agape. And I'm grateful to Aiden for preaching so I could go on vacation!
A couple of months ago I was in the car with some retired ministers, heading to Boston for the board meeting of an organization we serve. I was in the backseat, as was Brad, and we were talking about church, of course. And he said, “It seems every sermon I hear lately ends up talking about love; saying that, whatever the problem is, love is the answer. That if we have more love, and act with love, and stand on the side of love, then things will be OK. But I want and need preachers to give me something more tangible than that!”
Brad, who is a religious humanist, seems to be picking up on what Aiden observed last Sunday, that since the enlightenment people have "started to attribute to love the qualities once ascribed to God." Especially in this tradition, where we can be skittish around that little, most commonly used name for the fathomless mystery in which we live and move and have our being. I am partial to the Universalist description of God as the Love that will not let us go; the faith that says we belong to a source, a force that is always with us, silently companioning us, whether we like it or not. I'm all for making the holy more accessible, but I and we could stand to be more specific, yes?
For example, when we say "Love is the doctrine of this church,” we're talking about our intention and our actions, we're saying that the foundation of this church is for its people to act with charity and with selfless love. This is love on the human level. But when we sing Whittier's words, "Immortal Love, forever full, forever flowing free," we are singing about God, right?
Today I want to reflect with you on our human intentions and actions; specifically that mushy word love, which is so central to our human connections and well-being; which too often gets portrayed as like magic—a cure-all: "If only we would have more love, things would be okay.” But the only way to have more love and more goodness in our world, and in ourselves, is to be mindful and vigilant, aware of our intentions and actions. The way to to have more love is to work at it. It helps to start, I think, with acknowledging that we, all of us, have plenty to learn. That this is a lifelong project.
There's a folk song that I love, it’s about a relationship between two people, and it has this line: "I am sorry, oh how I'm sorry, for I have learned just how little that I know.” It's good, now and then, to be aware of how little that we know. And isn't it true that those who are closest to us are often the best at pointing this out, right? Whether we want them to or not.
Years ago my friend Don introduced me to Robert Hayden’s poem based on his own upbringing, "Those Winter Sundays. "We were talking about our fathers, and Hayden’s poem reminded Don of his own dad:
Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love’s austere and lonely offices?
"What did I know, of loves austere and lonely offices?" I think of these lines from Thomas Wolfe:
“Which of us has known his brother? Which of us has looked into his father's heart? Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone?
This loneliness and disconnection is part of the human condition. We need one another, but how often do we fail at making the human connections we crave? What do we really know of love?
You must be able to think of someone whom you find hard to love. You must know people you'd like to help, but you don't know how. And maybe they don't know how to ask for help. Communication between individuals and family members and friends is hard enough, to say nothing of relations between between communities, and nations!
Here's the helpful and hopeful part – by acknowledging our limitations, our unknowing, we put ourselves in a position of humility and vulnerability. And it is from this place that we can begin to learn more about how to love. We just sang:
Just as long as my heart beats, I must answer, “Yes,” to love;
disappointment pierced me through, still I kept on loving you.
If they ask what I did best, tell them I said, “Yes,” to love.
Here love is not flowers or chocolates or cute cards, as nice as those things are. Here love is hanging in, even when it might be easier to go. Deeply disappointed, but still saying yes to love. So here's my start at a down to earth description of love:
Love is telling the truth, as kindly as possible
Love is admitting that you never know another’s whole story, being aware that your perspective is always limited and incomplete.
Love is saying, “I'm sorry, I was wrong, can you forgive me?”
Love is being aware of your own limitations, and still, holding on to hope.
Anyone want to add to my very incomplete list? What ways would you describe love?
(People in the congregation offered these ways to describe love)
Love walks alongside you.
Love is helping other people, even when you have a million other things to pay attention to.
Love is your dog.
Love is taking your turn changing the diaper without complaining about it.
Love is my kitties (kittens).
Love is learning to understand.
Love is being there when you’re needed.
(From James Baldwin) Love is taking off the masks we feel we cannot live without, but know we cannot live within.
Love is rocking your baby in church.
Love is forgiving.
And when we zoom out beyond the personal and interpersonal, what do we mean when we confirm that love is the doctrine of this church? In real and tangible ways, what does that mean?
I would add that, for me, love is the doctrine means we see the church as more than meeting our individual needs. It means we don't give up when things are hard, or when we're disappointed; that we can take the long view and take heart that we are part of something larger than our individual selves. “Love is the doctrine” means that this church rests on the efforts of its people more than on rules or writings; it is the day by day lives of its people that this church is built upon, and on which stands this house of memory and hope. We are all invited to be, in our own particular ways, pillars of the church.
Dear spiritual companions, can you take heart and take courage in the fact that none of us have achieved a PhD level in love? That we are always practicing, always learning and growing, trying to do better by those we love, trying to make ours a better world.
That song I quoted earlier, about learning how little that I know, it ends this way:
To a new place I have awoken,
and everything I know of love I learned from you.”
When I first heard this song, and that last line, I thought of you. Because I have learned so much about love from you. From hearing your stories, from watching you in action, being God's hands and feet in the world. And of course I've learned about love from my wife and children, from my parents and other family members and friends. And so have you, right? What would we do without our companions?
What do we know of love? That it's hard, and can be heartbreaking. And that it is life’s greatest gift and blessing. That Love takes us out of our existential solitude and calls us out onto the dance floor of life. Where we are blessed beyond our hope and expectation. And where we make mistakes, and fall short, where we then have the opportunity to ask forgiveness and ask for help. What we know of love is that it calls us to keep on practicing.
May we be people with the grace to know enough of love that we will keep on practicing, will keep on reaching out, in our beautiful and imperfect ways. Let us be people who are ever sharing and spreading the love that we have, and the love that we co-create, so that we do help to heal and bless one another, and our world, now and always,
Amen.