All You Need

Song of Songs 2:8-13

The voice of my beloved!
   Look, he comes,
leaping upon the mountains,
   bounding over the hills.
My beloved is like a gazelle
   or a young stag.
Look, there he stands
   behind our wall,
gazing in at the windows,
   looking through the lattice.
My beloved speaks and says to me:
‘Arise, my love, my fair one,
   and come away;
for now the winter is past,
   the rain is over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth;
   the time of singing has come,
and the voice of the turtle-dove
   is heard in our land.
The fig tree puts forth its figs,
   and the vines are in blossom;
   they give forth fragrance.
Arise, my love, my fair one,
   and come away.

This passage has a special place in my heart. This was the passage I chose to have read during Chris’ and my wedding ceremony. The language and poetry of this passage is beautiful, yes, but that wasn’t the only reason I picked it. I’m always very wary of taking Bible passages out of context, and while there are plenty of passages about love throughout the Bible, most of them are about God’s love for Israel, God’s love for Jesus, the love Christians should have for Jesus, and for one another, as a whole—there are very few, if any passages about actual romantic love in the Bible.

And when it comes to the Song of Songs, the mind-blowing thing is, is that there is no real evidence this is anything but a beautiful (and sometimes risqué!) poem about human love and desire, between two young lovers. And so that’s why I chose this passage for our wedding passage—still technically Biblical—but also purely romantic.

Now, as I’m sure you’ve figured out by this point, I’m not one to take the Bible literally. The Bible is full of metaphors and allegories, and so many truly unbelievable moments. But you know, I make an exception for the Song of Songs. There’s no mention of God, or any higher power in the entire book. Traditions throughout history have really bent over backwards to explain why this poem is, in fact, religious. Traditional Jewish thought is that it’s one long allegory about God’s love for Israel. Some Christian sects believe it’s one long allegory for God’s and Jesus’ love for the church. This isn’t totally crazy, as the temple was historically given female personification, but considering the language of this poem, it’s still quite a stretch, in my opinion. So that’s why I take this book fairly literally. There’s no historical context, no real literary context justifying these allegorical readings. In fact, it has more in common with ancient Egyptian love poetry, as well as Mesopotamian rituals of marriage and fertility.

So the big question then is—how did this even get into the Bible? Well, as usual, that’s a question we won’t answer today. The greatest Hebrew Bible scholars haven’t been able to figure it out, so we certainly won’t. But in thinking about why and how this ended up as canonical scripture, I couldn’t help but think of a text that is very often used in Christian weddings—from 1 Corinthians chapter 13: “Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude…now faith hope and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.” While this love that Paul talks about here is definitely not about romantic love, but rather, about loving our neighbor, and putting this pure and spiritual love on a pedestal above what Paul considered to be the more shallow spiritual gifts of the time—speaking in tongues, claiming prophetic power, etc., I still think this says something about the importance of love in the Bible, and in Christianity. I’m also thinking of 1 John, in which it’s written, “Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love.” Now again, this isn’t romantic love; this is about the death and resurrection of Jesus being the basis for God’s ultimate sacrificial love, and how we, as Christians should mirror that love in our everyday lives. But again, I think this really says something about the emphasis on love in the Bible.

And since, as we’ve talked about before, the Bible is bigger than we can possibly comprehend—if there’s room for sacrificial love, for familial love, for loving your neighbor, then surely there’s room in the Bible for romantic love. Especially when we look at the scripture passage for today—I’m sure most of us remember our first love, our greatest love, and the excitement and hope that comes with being so absolutely head over heels in love with someone. There’s that amazing feeling that as long as you’re with that person that everything will be okay:

‘Arise, my love, my fair one,
   and come away;
for now the winter is past,
   the rain is over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth;
   the time of singing has come,
and the voice of the turtle-dove
   is heard in our land.

I love this language of the winter, in this case, the muddy, rainy season, being over, this language of spring and rebirth. It’s language of pure hope and anticipation at better times to come. The turtle-dove that’s mentioned, is an animal that mates for life—it’s a representation of unity and faithfulness. Regardless of where we are in our romantic lives, can’t we all be inspired by this? In a time when things often seem so hopeless, isn’t this kind of hope and happiness and unity something to celebrate? In such a broken world, we all deserve this kind of love, this kind of hope, this kind of anticipation for better and invigorating days to come. In a world that seems to be constantly trying to break us down, don’t we all deserve to have some love in our lives such as this? Don’t we all deserve unconditional support and care from someone?

I remember a few years ago when I was planning my wedding, it was such a lovely distraction from the world. And not just because it was fun to look at flower arrangements and dresses—trust me, I was no bridezilla. It was because I was so confident in who I was marrying—I was so confident that this planning was leading up to a moment that really would, for just a little bit of time, block out the anger and violence of the world. And it wasn’t just Chris that factored into this feeling of confident anticipation—it was knowing that my friends and loved ones would be with me, all these people from all these different walks of life, gathering to support and to celebrate love—a love in and of this world.

So with that, I want to take a cue from Connie when she filled in a couple weeks ago—I’m going to ask for some congregational participation. I want you to think of a time when you felt fully, completely, unconditionally loved—it doesn’t have to be romantic love, but it can be—I want to hear about a time you felt the kind of love that, for a moment, blocked out all the noise and negativity of the world, a love that made you feel wholly happy and safe.

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Listening to all these beautiful memories just confirms to me that all love is sacred. I believe—and let me be clear, this is purely my opinion, pure speculation—that the Song of Songs made it into the Bible as canon, as scripture, not because it was some over-the-top allegory about God and Israel, but because all love is truly sacred—including romantic love, including physical love, including love in and of this world. And if God is love, shouldn’t that mean that God is all love? That we can feel God whenever we feel loved in any way—whenever we feel safe and held and hopeful? Isn’t that the point of God? That we know we are always loved? So what is so wrong with feeling an of-this-world expression of that love?

The Bible is such a serious book, Church. It’s a book that constantly implores us to give up our possessions, to rid ourselves of our ego and our selfishness, a book that asks things of that the world we live in makes near impossible. And I know my sermons often ask a lot of us—it’s just so hard to avoid when the Bible asks so much of us! But I believe there is a reason that the Song of Songs was included as scripture, and I believe that it’s so that we can know that it’s okay to revel in love that’s of this world. I believe it’s so that we can get a respite from the hard things by focusing on the love and support of those around us.

A world in which we’re always guilt-tripping ourselves or others for not trying hard enough, for not saving the world just isn’t sustainable. Without a focus on real tangible love that we can feel in the here and now, we will burn out. Without memories and moments like the ones you all shared today, what’s the point of anything? This physical, real love that’s of this world is what can give us hope, it’s what keeps us going. It’s what makes us feel safe, and validated, and held. It’s what makes us excited and hopeful and looking forward to the future—knowing that we can accomplish great things, not just with the love of God, but with the love of one another.

So let’s go from this day, not forgetting about the ills of the world, but not getting bogged down by them. Let’s go from this day with a plan to, whenever we’re feeling a little down, overwhelmed, burnt out, to recharge with an embrace from a loved one. Let’s go from this day using love to take a break from this broken world when we need it. And when we’re recharged, we can make sure that we make this earth as it is in heaven—an earth where every single person is able to feel this sustaining and perfect love. Once in a while, Church, it’s okay to take things at face value. It’s okay to just feel good and to feel loved sometimes. So arise my loves, my fair ones, and come away—to a world where we are all loved. Amen.