Monday, February 20, 2017

Love: A Sermon from Feb 19th 2017


Song of Solomon 8:6-7

“Set me as a seal upon your heart,
    as a seal upon your arm;
for love is strong as death,
    passion fierce as the grave.
Its flashes are flashes of fire,
    a raging flame.
Many waters cannot quench love,
    neither can floods drown it.
If one offered for love
    all the wealth of one’s house,
    it would be utterly scorned.”

Sermon:

          Some of you may not know this, but one of Dorothy’s jobs is to sit and listen to the random and often crazy ideas of her boss. For quite some time now, I’ve been going on about how I’ve been wanting to teach on Song of Solomon. And as you might expect, she’ll sit there and nod her head and give that look that says, “Sure, I understand. But are you sure that’s a good idea?” When that happens, I usually imagine myself standing there then laugh and walk back in my office wondering if I should really do something so foolish. After all, there’s a reason most preachers stay clear of this book.

          But I suppose that my interest in teaching this book comes from two sources. First, no one ever touches on it. For me, that’s a fun challenge to be surmounted. There’s something exhilarating about doing something different and perhaps even a bit scandalous. Second, I picked up a commentary last year that has had me pretty jazzed. It’s entitled, Exquisite Desire: Religion, the Erotic, and the Song of Songs and it’s written by Carey Ellen Walsh. If you ever come to my office I can show it to you, and the first thing you’ll notice is that the cover is well suited to the content of the book it studies. The cover illustrates the genre of it's subject - religious erotica.


          The tipping point in my resistance to touching on this book of the Bible finally came this week with the celebration of Valentine’s Day. When I came to the office on Tuesday I had to come up with a sermon topic so it made sense for me to preach about love. I’ve preached on love before, of course, but never romantic erotic love. As most of you know, the Greek New Testament has a number of words for love and each carries a different connotation. Greek, unlike English, distinguishes between different types of love. Many of us are probably familiar with the term agape which refers to the kind of love that God or a parent may have for us. Nearby we have a city with a Greek name – Philadelphia is drawn from phileo which is the kind of love one might have towards their close friends, think David and Jonathan.  But there is, of course, another type of love, namely eros. So today I want us to think through this kind of love.

          In a moment, Marie is going to start a clip that might help us think through this topic. Some of you may not be very familiar with some of the references, but I think you will get the overall message anyway. I think that there’s a central lesson to be learned.


          Our society, or perhaps even most societies, is in a constant state of flux over the question of what love really means. We don’t really know how to answer the question definitively. It’s a bit of a mystery really, and yet I think there are some things we can know. First and foremost, there are always mythologies that play into our concepts of love. We have the fairy tales where a noble knight rides in in chivalric prose to save the fair maiden from some sort of evil. We have the idea of soul mates – the idea that there was one specific person God created for you to marry. We have the mythology that couples are supposed to feel the same feelings they felt on their wedding day 40 years later, as though no one ever feels the seven-year itch or that ‘happily ever after’ somehow comes easily.

          In some ways, the Song of Solomon is like these things. It’s a poem that “portrays erotic love between two young people who are not yet betrothed and whose union is not yet recognized by the young woman’s family.”[1] Pastors aren’t normally drawn to preach on texts that hint strongly at premarital hanky-panky. But maybe there’s a lesson in our history with this book. Christians have an interpretative tradition that’s nearly two thousand years old now, wherein we read this book of the Bible allegorically. In other words, we have often realized that we can’t really fit this book of the Bible together easily with our traditional views about what a young couple should be up to before they get married.[2] So, we’ve decided to read a rather long poem, unsurprisingly, in a rather poetic way. We’ve said that this poetry foreshadows the love Christ has for His Church – that it’s true purpose is to highlight the final union the two will have when Christ finally returns. This approach harkens back to the famous phrase Paul gave us when he said, “Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her” (Ephesians 5:25).

          I think there’s truth to this point. I believe that it is an edifying and hopeful lens we can take towards our future. However, I also think that it obscures the value that the Song of Solomon might have in itself, some intrinsic worth that it might have apart from our attempts to explain it away through the words of Paul or other Biblical writers. The video we just watched talked a lot about how the old chivalrous ideas of love are falling away in the age of online dating – how ‘excarnation’ is eroding the concepts of love we developed in the late middle ages.

When I was much younger it was easy to point out the flaws of the fairy tale love popularized by Disney movies, but maybe there is a value in the fairy tale even if it’s not true. Maybe it was never intended to tell the truth we find in history or science. Perhaps it’s possible that the Song of Solomon was never intended to serve as an ethical treatise for how we should go about dating, marrying, or instructing our children. Poetry isn’t usually intended for those purposes, is it? We don’t go to the Psalms to learn how we should treat others. If we did, we’d all probably be quite violent! No, we go to the Psalms and Song of Solomon because they both speak to something in us that is definitively human – they speak to our souls.

I think that it is possible that in a day and age when we’re experiencing massive levels of objectification and ‘excarnation’ we might need the fairy tales to remind us of the ideals we should strive for. One of my favorite philosophers is the Swiss-born Alain de Botton. In his novel The Course of Love, he writes about our shallow understanding of real-life intimacy: "What we typically call love is only the start of love."[3] And yet this is one of the cruelest games we play on young couples. We suggest that this transitory high is supposed to last, as though it will never change with time, experience, and strong personalities. It’s as though we don’t want to tell them that they’re going to be tested. It’s as though we don’t want to let them in on the secret that they’re going to have to work hard later on. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s as though no one wants to spoil the surprise.

For most of the people in this room, this was the big challenge. Most of us have had to face the crumbling façade of expectations that we thought we knew, only to be challenged to rise up to the occasion of trying to figure out what love means beyond the fairy tales, beyond the myths, and beyond the images of our youth. On the other hand, those of us who are a bit younger are facing a completely different monster. I, like most of the millennials here, have live not only at the tail end of the chivalric period we all share but also the beginning of the new era that we just learned about in that video. Our society has moved away from the dreamy land of shiny knights and fair maidens and landed in a world where we draft lists of what we want in a partner. As the video pointed out, these lists can often reflect an element of our own narcissism. Or, if we set aside our dreams, we shut ourselves off emotionally and go through the dating process trying to stimulate ourselves without becoming emotionally vulnerable. I think that it’s fair to say that we haven’t really made any progress. We’ve just added a bit of sophistication to our chaos.
This is why I wish more people told us about a deeper kind love, the long-term kind. The one forged by compromise, patience and accepting other people as they are, not as we wish them to be. I’m particularly drawn to the words of Paul, where he says,

“Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.” (1 Cor. 13:4-8)

This is why the canon is so important. As Christians, we read our texts in the context of the whole Bible. If we stuck to the words of Song of Solomon alone, we probably wouldn’t have much of an ethical outlook on how we can erotically love someone ethically. We’d have some really explicit erotic literature, but we wouldn’t have a larger context to place it into.

          More than anything else, love is an act. It’s something we choose to do. Up behind me there are four quotes, one of these is from the French Existentialist Albert Camus. As you can see it reads, “What does love add to desire? An inestimable thing: friendship.”[4] I think this is, perhaps, the most essential lesson. It’s easy to figure out that the two most important things for a marriage are kindness and empathy.[5] This is true not just for romance, but for all relationships. Love isn’t just about chemistry. Chemistry is a great start, but it’s not the most essential part. Love is about building something beautiful.

          This may be a but abstract, but I think it’s pretty essential. Beauty and love are intricately connected and I’m not just referring to how good looking the person next to you might be. No, I’m talking about what you can build with the person next to you, your spouse, your friends, your children. There’s a reason the Bible often refers to the beauty of Creation when everything is going well and its ugliness when God’s mad at what we’ve been doing. There’s an inherent value in what we can build together. That’s why we gather here together in this place, or with our families, or with our friends. We’re trying to live into the possibility of building something beautiful to live within both in the present and in the future.

          I don’t want to get into Plato too much this morning, although I’m sure that you all know that I’m tempted, but I think this is important. Why would the creator of the universe create our world at all? He certainly doesn’t need us. Perhaps the answer is the same as the answer any artist would give. Beauty is always valuable, particular when it’s present in relationships – be they romantic, fraternal, familial, or even church-based. As one author, I read this week wrote:

“Beauty either of an individual, or indeed of anything else we value as supremely beautiful, is the creative environment in which we try to secure some share of whatever we deem to be of value for ourselves.”[6]

All of us here together, that’s beautiful. It’s valuable. When we build something together with our partners that too is beautiful – it has inherent value. It’s made stronger by the guidelines and teachings that we can find through the Bible.

          But I think it’s important to remember that beauty isn’t just about ethics. It’s not just about our lists of what to do and what not to do. Beauty can be the thing that drives our efforts to do the right thing. The act of creating can push us in the right direction. So perhaps it makes sense that we get the Song of Solomon before we ever get Paul. Maybe we’re human before we’re ever civilized. Maybe we need fairy tales to guide us through the long lonely nights and push us towards the kinds of acts that make us a better species. Maybe we need a weird little book smack-dab in the middle of the Bible to remind us that the ideals and naivety behind a little hanky-panky might actually be what makes us truly beautiful. Should that be guided by wisdom and experience? Of course, but maybe there’s a little wisdom in the Song of Solomon after all – a testament to the ideals towards the passions that should drive us all to make the world just a little more beautiful. After all, I’m pretty convinced that God is in the business of transforming broken things into things of wonder. May we all strive to live and love into the example Christ gave us – to be moved to build and create relationships of beauty. Amen.



[1] Michael V. Fox, “Introduction to The Song of Solomon” in NRSV Study Bible.
[2] Many of these traditional views aren’t actually drawn from strong Jewish sources, but Stoic ones that began to influence the Ancient Near East roughly 200 years before Christ, culminating around 200-300 AD. This was, in a sense, a sexual revolution. See: Michel Foucault, The Care of Self: Volume 3 of The History of Sexuality, trans. Robert Hurley (New York: Vintage Books, 1988).
[3] Alain de Botton, The Course of Love (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2016), p. 8.
[4] Albert Camus, Carnets III (1951-1959).
[5] Emily Esfahani Smith, “Masters of Love: Science says lasting relationships come down to – you guessed it – kindness and generosity” in The Atlantic, June 12, 2014; and Jake Newfield, “Why Empathy Is Key for Your Relationships”, The Huffington Post, November 20th 2015.

Friday, February 17, 2017

Philosophy and Tyrants

"The philosopher's every attempt at directly influencing the tyrant is necessarily ineffectual."

Alexandre Kojève, Tyranny and Wisdom in Victor Gourevitch and Michael Roth, eds., Leo Strauss, On Tyranny: Including the Strauss-Kojève Debate (New York: Free Press, 1991), pp. 165-166.