Sermon 24 March: The four loves - 'eros' and 'philia'

Due to the snow on the first Sunday of Lent, we're playing 'catch-up' in our series 'The four loves'.
Last week we introduced the overall theme, reflecting on Jesus' new command to love one another.
This week, we look at two of our four loves - 'eros' [or romantic love], and 'philia' [or friendship]...
Each deserves a sermon on its own, but what's a minister to do in the face of snow?

Early on in the service, we thought about different songs which had the word 'love' in the title,
and reminded ourselves of the old 'love is...' cartoons of the 70's/80's, writing our 'love is...'
definition on heart post-its and then posting them on the large heart-shape standing by
our wooden cross.

READINGS: Song of songs 8:5-7; 1 Cor 13; 1 Peter 3:8-12; Luke 5:17-26

SERMON
Let’s pray: may the words of my mouth and the thoughts of all our hearts,
be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

A friend has a running joke with me – his nick-name for me is ‘Dibley’:
like the Vicar of Dibley, I serve a very rural area,
like the Vicar of Dibley, well, I’m what Precious Mwbostwe from the
‘Number One Ladies Detective Agency’ would describe as ‘a traditionally built woman.’
Unlike the Vicar of Dibley, I don’t have a freezer stacked with a variety of Haagen Daz ice cream -
I’m a little sad about that last one.
Anyway, in an episode of The Vicar of Dibley, Geraldine, the Vicar,
was in the midst of a dream about a possible marriage.
There were several nightmarish elements to her dream:
the minister conducting the service was an embittered ex-boyfriend
throwing in snarky comments between what he was supposed to be saying;
her first name, which she never uses, and which she has never told to anyone
has to be used for the legalities of the ceremony:
so we find out that Geraldine is actually Boadicea Geraldine, much to her embarrassment.
As to her groom: to her horror, she finds she’s standing next to David,
her sometimes arch nemesis and also the equivalent of the Session Clerk –
a man she definitely doesn’t want to marry.
Having just been asked if she will take him for her husband, Geraldine pauses,
um’s and arrr’s, and looks a tad panicky.
She turns around looking at the congregation helplessly.
Just then, the man she’s had a crush on for years, walks through the church doors –
the irresistibly lovely Sean Bean.
Their eyes meet, and he cries out in his glorious northern English accent:
‘No! Don’t do it Geraldine. It’s me you love!’
A smile of rapture – and relief – fills Geraldine’s face.
He beckons to her:
‘Come away, lass...’
And she runs up the aisle blissfully to meet him.
It’s a truly beautiful moment

The Song of Songs –
the one book in the bible that exists to celebrate the joys of ‘eros’ –
of romantic love, of human desire,
is a call to come away:
a call to love at the most intimate level,
to join your life with that of another and to share the journey together.
This call to love is as old as humanity itself,
a natural and normal part of what it is to be human.
If there was a list of things needed in order to do more than just merely survive,
then finding and sharing love would feature high up on the list.

As we were thinking about earlier, love is a prime ingredient for many songs;
love inspires poets to wax lyrical,
artists to paint, or sculpt, or create works expressing their desire for a loved one –
or disappointment at love lost.
From the slightly quicker than normal beating of our heart,
to getting a little flustered,
to being inspired to create masterpieces,
or, inspired by love, to discover, and share love’s generous spirt with others through
kindness...
love moves us, transforms us.
And, when done well, can make us better people.
So, it’s interesting to me that the one book in the Bible that does talk about
this particular expression of love, is a book that has historically,
with a wee blush, been quietly left to gather dust,
or, explained away as a poem about God’s relationship with the nation of Israel.
Sure, you can read it that way if you like, but, to do so would be a disservice to the text itself.
Along with the story of creation,
along with the books that give us a potted history of Israel,
or information about Jewish law,
or proclaim the words of the prophets,
or the poetry of the psalms –
with the whole range of human emotions on display within them –
along with the New Testament books
telling us of the life of Jesus
and the creation of the church,
in the Song of Songs, we see the celebration of human love –
and what a healthy, good, fully-rounded human relationship might look like:
an aspirational human relationship, if you like.
And, at some point, when those who compiled the various books into what
we now have as the bible as a whole, this small book – this text for lovers –
was deemed fit to be included.
This expression of love is one of God’s gifts to humanity –
to be used wisely and well.

A movie many years ago, ‘Love Story', had as its tag-line:
‘love means never having to say your sorry.’
I suspect the couple within the Song of Songs would disagree.
The model of human desire and love we find in our text is not the fluffy stuff of Hollywood.
While there’s the falling in love bit,
the couple in this poem appear to have been together for a while.
When the initial rosy glow of that first love begins to fade,
it’s then that the work of love really begins:
seeing each other warts and all,
making room for each other,
making time for each other, too.
Working at not taking each other for granted.
Working at communicating so that irritations don’t fester into a resentment
that undermines the relationship.
Each listening,
each putting the other first,
in what is the mutual, shared work of love.
Of course, sometimes, no matter how hard you might both work at it,
sometimes, even with the best will in the world,
sometimes... it breaks.
And in the midst of that brokenness, it’s finding love enough to forgive
and work out what the best, least destructive course of action might be for both.
Love, in whatever form, is beautiful
and also one of the hardest things we get to do as humans.
And yet, here, in the Song of Songs, the book which the church has been
rather coy about discussing over the centuries,
...here we have a model of love that shows the joys, the ups, the downs, the nitty gritty
of a healthy, happy, human relationship –
of being completely known and loved by another human being.
True love.
True, because it's real.

In a world which so frequently exploits human bodies –
uses people as commodities,
devalues people,
treats women and men as ‘hunks’ of meat – objectifying them in advertising;
in a world of #metoo and the abuse of women by those in powerful positions;
in a world where we are now so much more aware of sex trafficking...
we need to turn from the twisting of love
and hear again what truly loving human relationships can be like:
we need to hear again the words of the Song of Songs as a counter-balance,
and as a way to create healthy relationship goals.

By the by, we heard the words of 1st Corinthians 13,
along with our reading from Song of Songs.
This reading is one that’s very popular at weddings and while the sentiments are lovely,
it’s not ‘eros’ that this particular text is describing,
but another Greek word for love ‘agape’ –
not romantic love,
but total, selfless, unconditional love,
the self-sacrificing love of God for humanity,
a love passionately committed to the well-being of others
with no expectation of it being reciprocated...
There may be some ideals within it that cross over –
a certain selflessness, but... it’s different.
So next time you’re at a wedding and hear it read,
you can nod wisely and go ‘ah, yes, but...’
And we’ll be exploring this particular word in a couple of weeks.

Very quickly, we move to another of our four words for love this morning – ‘philia’ –
brotherly or sisterly love – neighbourly love if you like.
This is about friendship.
And in our passage from Luke – well, aren’t these the kinds of friends you’d like to have?
These are the sorts of friend who have your back in a crisis:
they’ll do anything they can to help you out,
even if it means picking you up on your bed,
carrying you off, digging through a roof,
and getting you to someone who might just have an answer for your illness.
As we were thinking of songs earlier on the theme of romantic love,
so there’s songs about friendship;
there’s the classic Carol King/ James Taylor song ‘You’ve got a friend’, with the words:
‘winter, spring, summer, or fall,
all you’ve got to do is call,
and I’ll be there, yes I will,
you’ve got a friend.’
The friends in our gospel passage are just these kinds of friends:
they are there for their friend in need.

Helen Keller once said:
“Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the night.”
We need companionship –
God noticed this having created human beings and said:
‘it’s not good for humans to be alone.’
Whether romantic love, or companionable friendship,
we are at our best when we have others
to spend time with –
to share the load,
to listen,
and be listened to in return;
to help one another,
laugh with one another,
at times, cry with one another...
to just be still, in silence together,
or, to stand together – and face the world –
support, solidarity.
Some say that 'you can’t choose your family but you can choose your friends,'
and friendship makes life bearable.

The extraordinary act of friendship shown by the paralysed man’s friends
is such that even Jesus is astonished by it – he’s impressed.
He restores the man to full health –
and, having been healed,
the man picks up his mat and heads off with his friends, presumably all of them rejoicing together.
Friendship: shared sorrows and shared joys.

‘Philia’
This model of love is used by Jesus when talking about those who follow him.
‘I call you my friends,’ he says to the disciples.
Jesus, Son of God, Messiah, Prince of Peace,
rather than pulling rank... calls us his friends.
God, in sending Jesus,
shows us the relationship he wants to have with us:
not one of being beaten down,
cajoled into toeing the line –
not slaves, nor servants,
...but friends.
For far too long there’s been the notion of God as the One with the big stick ready to pounce,
ready to punish us if we step out of line:
controlling, angry, One to be feared.
It is good to remind ourselves that, no matter how we mess up, God, through Jesus,
calls us his friends –
calls us to spend our lives walking alongside him, not cowering, but companionably.
There’s a sense of restoration –
of being back in the Garden when God and Adam walked and talked together.
We are God’s beloved,
and we are God’s friends.
Thanks be to God for his love. Amen.