Homily preached at Christ Church
Greenwich, Connecticut
August 29, 2020
Marriage of AJR and JFW IV
Song of Solomon 2:10-13
In the Name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away; for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
One of the things that might surprise us about the Bible is that, in a book otherwise really rather preoccupied with conflict and strife, almost nowhere do we hear anything of the “battle of the sexes,” or anything like it. Instead, we have many hearty recommendations of what the Prayer Book calls the “holy estate” of matrimony, and a lot of lovely writing on the subject.
Living in these uncertain times as we are, sitting here with masks on our faces, or sitting at home and watching on a computer screen, it may seem odd to hear from the Old Testament about the passing of a tumultuous season. It may seem odd to hear about the stoppage of the rain, which here in Greenwich is still falling outside. But this should not indicate to us that the writers of either the Old or the New Testaments were naïve or foolish on the subject of the love between a man and a woman. Far from it.
One of the traditional interpretations of this passage from the Song of Solomon is that it may be read as a love song from Christ to his church, the church to which he gives life, the church which is often called his bride. The resurrection of our Lord from the grave is not just the message reserved for Easter; the white hangings on the altar reminds us that this service too, this wedding, this marriage of these two people seated before us… this too is a sign and signal of the redemption of all things that our Lord has wrought.
In just a few minutes, those of us in this room, and many others watching from afar, will be witnesses as Ali and John make their marriage vows: to have and to hold: for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish. There is a reason that these vows have come down to us basically unchanged since the church first translated them into English almost 500 years ago: they articulate the spiritual constancy by which a marriage sees that the winter is past, by which the rain is dispelled. Those vows provide the fertile soil in which new life may grow, over and over again, soil in which real love overmasters chaos and fear.
It takes every facet of those promises – and a lot more besides – to soldier on with planning a wedding in the face of an unprecedented global health crisis. My friends, that we are here in spite of countless inconveniences and dislocations says quite a lot about these two lovely people sitting in front of us, who in coming to the altar today have already enacted in real time the marriage vows they will take in a few minutes: They have made better out of worse; they have made health out of sickness; they have done this while the whole world was falling to pieces around them, and in doing so they have modeled for each of us fidelity and devotion that can overmaster every obstacle. It is the same fidelity and devotion in which all Christians should ground our lives, which is why a married couple is a Christian community in microcosm. A marriage is the vanguard; it is the place, more than any other, where the faithful, joyous, and durable love – the same love that is between Christ and his church – is on most vivid display.
Ali and John, I’m sure that I speak for everyone here, and everyone watching, when I say that I am so happy for you. It is an honor to be here today, to send you on your way out of this church as husband and wife. May our Lord strengthen you each and every day, to live the vows and promises that you will make, so that throughout your life together, you may say to one another:
The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
AMEN.