On Love
Reading and sermon preached by Reverend Carolyn Patierno
March 19, 2006

The Wedding Watcher, by Paul Carroll

Yesterday angels were discussing
eternal life and the quiet tasks ahead:
how to dust the corners of the infinite,
and find variety in the weather of perfection.
They talked about contentment. Will it
some day need adjustment? Will the saved
need a seminar on all the shades of white?

But today they are debating why,
if offered eternal life, the bride and groom
might cling to earth, this hard and sunken place,
where stars deflame and fly apart,
trees look less constant as they grow,
and all we are arrives, declines, and disappears.

“What folly,” our angels agree, “to stay
on earth for love.” Their beautiful toes curled
in heaven’s guarantee, their work done,
they fold their sleeping wings and tuck their faces in.
Except for one who hides his face by looking down,
first at Lauren and then at John and says,

“I was once on earth, like the bodhisattva
who sees nirvana but stays behind.
But I left for this dream of flight and having wings.
Oh, to go back, to have pockets, to fill them
with rice and crane my neck at the rustle of a dress,
to wonder: ‘Has the bride arrived?’ ”

Heaven is more than light-years from earth
and angels, as he now knows, have limited range.
To be human, to wed, to visit a wedding and pray:

“Let John and Lauren double-clutch and
let their backs hurt less together.
Let high-necked flowers touch their knees.
Let their astonished feet leave a sign
like a ring in wax.
Let them throw their children up
and let the planet’s bulk bring them back.
Let them awaken to the night’s decline
and the calisthenics of minor living things.
And let them love forever as now they love on earth.”

In the first days of romantic love, when in the throes of passion, lovers have eyes only for each other. There can be no other way. Friends and family may rightly reason with either or both, “You cannot live on love alone!” but the lovers seem to barely recognize these faces who until recently were deeply familiar. There is a certain glow about them; flowers seem to bloom in their presence. Others look on wistfully and remember when their love was once young, too. Yes, at the start, love is very specific … some might say obsessive.

The cover story of the February issue of National Geographic was "Love: The Chemical Reaction". Donatella Marazziti is a professor of psychiatry at the University of Pisa. Marazziti studied the biochemistry of lovesickness having become interested in the similarities between the feelings we have when we are first in love and those experienced by those diagnosed with obsessive compulsive disorder. She studied the biochemistry of 24 people who had fallen in love within the previous six months and compared her results to two other groups. One was made up of individuals who suffer from obsessive compulsive disorder and the other was made up of individuals who were neither newly in love nor obsessive compulsive. The study compared the serotonin levels of the individuals in each of these groups. Interestingly enough, but perhaps not surprising, levels of serotonin in both the obsessive compulsives’ blood and the lovers’ blood were 40% lower than the remaining group. The article concluded: “Translation: Love and OCD could have a similar chemical profile. Translation: Love and mental illness may be difficult to tell apart.”

Those on the outside of love’s initial protective bubble realize how fragile is this time. The iridescence will eventually wear thin and break open and the lovers will emerge to join the rest of us. If they work hard and are lucky, their love will continue on and on till death parts them. But love at the start, however obsessive, and love that either lasts or ends affects all of the people around that couple. The love we witness in others may inspire, hurt, protect, comfort, frighten or encourage us. But no relationship is without influence.

I was first moved to focus on this influence while working with a couple I married last October. Lauren and John were honest about their journey toward this decision to marry. They had taken it very seriously. John was from a big, Irish family who wondered when and if he’d ever marry. Here he was, ready to take that step with Lauren. When we set out to plan the service, John said that his brother would be reading a poem he was writing for the occasion. Fine. And yet, whenever this happens I do have to take a bit of a deep breath – one never knows how it will turn out. However, John’s brother Paul e-mailed me a copy of the poem about a week before the wedding and it took my breath away. The poem he wrote was our reading this morning. In fact, I read it to a number of Souls when I’d first received it; I was so moved. I read a lot of poetry, as you know. This poem was among the most beautiful of them all.

And then I met the groom’s family, including the poet brother, Paul. They were all so happy. Siblings, in-laws, nieces and nephews – they were dressed up and ready to celebrate this union. The bride’s mother had decorated and created a space that expressed her own happiness. Friends who had come great distances gathered before the ceremony … laughing together as the starting time came and went, knowing that this bride and groom were not likely to start any where near the designated hour.

I see it all the time at weddings … great happiness, hearts a-leaping, new ties being formed … and I am always aware of two things …that one, despite it all, the marriage may not be sustained. And two, there is a shadow side of weddings. For as a wedding offers an opportunity to renew one’s own commitment for some of those in attendance, it is for many others a difficult occasion, one that may emphasize the pain of a failed relationship or accentuate feelings of loneliness, whether one is single or one part of a couple. For still others, weddings bring up an acute sense of loss if a beloved member of the family is not present either because of death or broken relationship. A wedding is among the most complicated of gatherings for the rich swirl of emotion that accompanies the event.

In the midst of the joy and the sorrow, the bride and the groom, the two grooms, or the two brides – make their vows and their lives take a new turn. Their dearly beloved hold them close and by doing so their lives are also changed on that day.

And as I said, despite good intentions and hope, the marriage may some day falter and ultimately end. I have recently been as interested in this aspect of a relationship’s influence because close friends of mine – a couple that had been together for 18 years – recently made the difficult decision to end their relationship as they now know it. The end of the relationship has come as a shock to many. They had for many years withstood the pressure, however unfair, of being in others’ eyes the “perfect couple.” Indeed, they were a magnificent couple. But for complicated reasons that count as generous, selfish, unflinchingly honest, hopeful and ultimately, loving, they felt that the best decision would be to stop.

And all who gathered for the 10th anniversary celebration are now and somehow changed by this turn of events. Those of us in long-term relationships such as the one they chose to end, take stock of our own relationships and vow to keep working or to work harder. Others struggle with fear – if this relationship couldn’t withstand the test of time, how will my own seemingly more vulnerable relationship survive?

The children surrounding these two - nieces and nephews, my own daughter wonder, “What now?”

Although I know they will both remain in my life, other separations have affected me differently. One relationship in particular with a woman I’d come to consider as a sister, a relationship that I’d treasured was sacrificed when my closest friend ended his long-term relationship with this woman. Last year my brother and his wife divorced 15 years and four children after they’d gotten married. The affect their decision has had on their children has been of great concern to everyone, of course. But their decision has affected each of their families of origin as well. All of these have made me appreciate more fully the affect my own divorce must have had on my family. Although my relationship was not a healthy one, my former husband had been part of my family’s lives for eleven years. Their own adjustment must have been great.

What to do with all this reflection? Like many of my sermon topics, I chose this one because the poem brought with it a significant thought that was not at all thought through, but compelling to me. Love – whether new or long-term, healthy or struggling – affects others deeply.

In the process of contemplation, I took a look at the sermon I preached on this topic one year ago. I didn’t remember the angle of last year’s “love sermon” and I thought I’d check in just for the heck of it. Although it wasn’t the main thrust of the sermon, there it was: embedded within the sermon was the point I’d been moving toward for this year’s reflection. I’d included a point that had been inspired by an essay by William Doherty in The UU World. You may remember that the article was pretty edgy considering the venue. Doherty is a family therapist (and a UU). He wrote about the stakeholders in a marriage beyond the spouses themselves. He included children, of course, but also extended families, friendship groups, and yes, church congregations. He was encouraging Unitarian Universalists to find ways to support relationships as congregations have a stake in all of them.

Doherty’s emphasis brought light to my pondering. We have choices. Everyday we are in the company of people who care for their partners and relationships well and others who neglect their partners and their relationships. We witness the elation of those who are newly in love and the firm footing of those who are in for the long haul.

The choice is this: how do we integrate what we witness into the manner in which we care for our relationships – romantic, familial, and friendships? These observations have great power. We may learn from others’ tenderness and care. Conversely, we may ascertain missteps that we resolve to avoid. We remember that right relationship requires hard work. We may resolve that the hard work is worth it - that it’s worth it to stay in the fight and work it through rather than throwing up our arms and fleeing. We may find the strength to end a relationship that needs ending. We can choose to be more compassionate to every person with whom we are in relationship. To treat each other with loving kindness. The swirl of emotion that surrounds the cloud of witness at a wedding ceremony may be harnessed to choose positive outlet. What a powerful outcome compassion would be. Compassion for ourselves in our own struggles with loving relationship and compassion for others who do the same.

Said the poet, “What folly, to stay on earth for love.” The poet’s angel muses that he left the earth for “this dream of flight and having wings. / Oh, to go back, to have pockets, to fill them / with rice and crane my neck at the rustle of a dress, / to wonder: ‘Has the bride arrived?’”

Let our prayer be for others and for ourselves one of support. One that concludes thusly, “Let us awaken to the night’s decline / and the calisthenics of minor living things. / And let us love forever as now we love on Earth.”

And may others be inspired by the positive ways in which we love.

Blessed be.
Amen.

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