“Ardent Souls & the Love That Casts Out Fear”

A Service for Valentine’s Weekend
by the Rev, Melanie Morel-Ensminger
First Unitarian Universalist Church of New Orleans
Sunday, February 12, 2012

READING BEFORE SERMON
From Paul’s First Letter to the Church in Corinth, chapters 12 &13


Now about the gifts of the Spirit, brothers and sisters, I do not want you to be uninformed.… There are different gifts, but the same Spirit distributes them.…

Now to each one the gifts of the Spirit are given for the common good. To one there is given a message of wisdom, to another a message of knowledge, to another faith, to another gifts of healing, to another miraculous powers, to another prophecy, to another speaking in different languages, and to still another interpretation of languages. All these are the work of one and the same Spirit….

Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with us. For we were all baptized by one Spirit so as to form one body—whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit. Even so the body is not made up of one part but of many.

Now if the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” it would not stop being part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” it would not stop being part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? If they were all one part, where would the body be? There are many parts, but one body.

The eye cannot say to the hand, “I don’t need you!” And the head cannot say to the feet, “I don’t need you!” God has put the body together, so that there should be no division in the body, that the parts should have equal concern for each other.

If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.

I will show you the most excellent way:

If I speak in human or angelic languages, but do not have love, I am only a booming gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can discern all mysteries, and if I have faith that moves mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. Where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are languages, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became an adult, I put away childish things. For now we see only a dark reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. Make love your aim.

So ends our Reading.

SERMON

In the Morel family, Valentine’s Day was a pretty big deal. With my father, my youngest sister, and my brother all bearing the middle name “Valentine” -- a tradition in my father’s family, going back generations -- the day became a holiday of cards and candy and flowers for all of us, not just for my father and mother. So I’ve always loved Valentine’s and have many pleasant associations with it.

Although this is our Valentine’s service, themed on “love,” we are not talking about the kind of tender feelings shared between individuals. However delightful and necessary to human happiness, romantic love is definitely NOT “the love that casts out fear,” our topic this morning. Robert Ingersoll wrote, “The more we love the more we fear.” It is indeed true that when two human beings love each other in that romantic way glorified in Valentine cards, they are always subject to fears: fear that the loved one will leave, will change, will love someone else, will withdraw their love, will eventually die. Fear is a kind of unspoken subtext in even the best and healthiest of one-on-one intimate relationships. A sermon on THAT topic will have to wait for another Valentine’s Day.

What kind of love is fearless, what kind of love offers a refuge from being afraid? What is the love that casts out fear? I believe it is the love of which St. Paul wrote, the love exemplified by the members of this church who have stepped forward to serve as elected leaders of this congregation and whose willingness to so serve we honored in this service – and that is, communal love in spiritual community.

Sometimes English can seem a hopelessly inexact language. We only have one word for “snow” – it’s been said that the Aleut people of Alaska have dozens. We only have one word for “yam” -- the Maori of New Zealand have several. We use the same overworked word for the emotions between lovers, the feelings between parents and children and siblings, the way close friends feel about each other, the bonds within a healthy religious community, and for how some of us feel about chocolate. One poor word, “love,” made to serve all these different purposes.

The Greeks had different words for love depending on which kind it was. Eros was for the passion between lovers; filios was the affection within a family. There was another word for friendship, and yet another for preferring one thing or one taste over others (like chocolate). And there was still another word for the bond in a covenanted community, for the spiritual glue that holds a congregation together. The word is the one used in Paul’s original letter; that word is agape.

Paul’s letter is quoted so often that has almost become a cliché. Many of us pretty much stop listening when someone starts off, “Love is patient, love is kind…” I wonder if it would make a difference to us if we knew the context in which Paul was writing.

In ancient times, Corinth was a bustling port city, full of all kinds of people – rich, poor, striving, of many different nationalities and ethnicities; it had a reputation as a party town. (Rev. Suzanne Meyer once described Corinth in a First Church sermon as being somewhat similar in character to New Orleans.) A group of Corinthians, having been converted by Paul on one of his mission trips, had formed a house-church, a small congregation meeting in the home of a well-off member. The little church was struggling, not over finances, but over personalities. The argument had devolved into a dispute over whose spiritual gifts were better, and more useful for the community.

Stymied by the conflict, the congregation appealed to Paul. Which gifts were better? they asked him; whose talents were more needed by the congregation? If they expected Paul to referee, they were mistaken. Instead, they got a rebuke. Paul waxed sarcastic to make his point: “Is a hand better than a foot? Should an eye say, ‘I’m better than an ear?’ ” Poking them, calling them childish, Paul stresses that ALL gifts and talents contribute to the health of the community, just as the various parts of the body contribute to the health of the person.

After this chiding, Paul soothes the contentious congregation in Corinth with a recipe for what will heal their conflicts and seal the rifts between them. He provides them with a virtual checklist for life in religious community. Agape, love in community, is kind and patient and looks for ways to serve; it doesn’t jump to anger and it doesn’t keep track of grievances. Love in community trusts, hopes, protects, and stays the course. No matter how often this scriptural passage gets used in weddings, it wasn’t meant to advise a covenanted couple, but a stressed-out covenanted community.

Learning to be loving in a covenanted community is challenging, perhaps even more challenging than the emotional risks of finding a life-mate. The fears and mistrust and willingness to forgive are multiplied many times over by the number of individuals in the group. The impulse to cut and run when things don’t go exactly one’s way are even greater; the social pressure to stay together much less; the itch to control, to manage, to be in charge -- in a totally well-meaning and benevolent way, you understand -- is even stronger. And yet, there is evidence that we humans have been gathering in spiritual and religious communities since the Neothilic age, and we show no sign of abating. Perhaps it is just as inherently human to want to be in community with others as it is to desire a life partner.

Each person in a covenanted community, each of US, is called -- not to be saints or paragons of unselfish virtue or to be without moral flaw or blemish, but to be our best self. Each one of us is called to do the best we can within the confines of our personal circumstances, in the most loving and compassionate way we can. In committing to a religi-ous faith and spiritual community, we should bring our deepest passions, or as UU author Michael Durall writes in his useful little book, Church Dos and Don’ts that was read by the church trustees for their recent Board Retreat, the church needs “ardent souls.” (Durall was saying that the Membership Team needs ardent souls, but I think the whole congregation needs them too.)

The congregation in Corinth may not have been the first covenanted community to show how difficult this all is, and of course they weren’t the last either. Every religious congregation, whatever their faith tradition or size or ethnicity, has experienced the kind of conflicts that arose so long ago among the Corinthians. Although the rewards of community life are tremendous, both for the individual and for the community, the challenges are equally great. But then, being in an intimate relationship with another person is also dauntingly difficult. There is so much fear and mistrust to overcome on both sides; there must be a constant willingness to forgive. Yet, hard as it is, people fall in love every day and decide to give the whole scary relationship thing a try.

In this church community, in this religious movement, we have made certain promises to each other; promise is what covenant means. We are knit together in affirmation of the Unitarian Universalist principles. We have vowed to support one another’s spiritual growth, and to work together to bring about justice. We have pledged this to each other, not with our fingers crossed or with a secret caveat that says, “As long as you agree with me” or “I only promise this to the folks I already like,” but across the board, congregant to congregant, the whole church covenanting with the whole church. We work together for our shared goals and dreams, empowering our elected officers to keep the vision and lead us forward.

As part of our shared covenant, we are all called to serve. Everyone hears the call, but we each seem to hear different messages, at dif-ferent pitches and frequencies, and with different outcomes. Some of us have the economic status and financial comfort to give generously. Some of us have free time that we are willing to devote. Some of us have talents and skills that can be called upon. Some of us are able to teach and some of us are willing to learn. Some of us are good with children and others of us are good with tools. Some of us are good with numbers and others of us are good with words. There is always something each one of us can do for the betterment of our church community.

“Love is patient and kind, love is not resentful or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or full of ill will…” Earlier, I called this “virtual checklist for life in religious community.” Agape, the love that casts out fear, is the love that acts in community with others, in service to others. It is the love that has relinquished interest in outcomes and cherishes the process; it is the love that refuses to be fooled into thinking that ends justify means, no matter how noble those ends. It is the love that acknowledges -- joyfully and painfully -- that as individuals we will not always get our own way, that we will not always be completely comfortable, that we will not always agree with each other. But we will do that difficult thing for the sake of our community: we will continue to love each other anyway, and try to help one another, and forgive each other again and again, and work together to change the world for the better. In this way, we will show to the world that love in community doesn’t mean perfect people always getting along perfectly, but instead is the sacred process of nor-mal folks rising to be their best selves, becoming ardent souls, reconciling over and over when, inevitably, they fail to be their best selves. This is agape; this is compassionate community; this is the love that casts out fear. AMEN -- ASHE -- SHALOM -- SALAAM -- NAMASTE -- BLESSED BE!



BENEDICTION

Contrary to Lennon & McCartney,
Love is NOT all you need,
But it is a darn good start.
Make love your aim
In your personal life,
In your family life,
In your workplace,
And in your church.
Go now and make peace!