Relating to One Another

Bob Stillerman
Fourteenth Sunday After Pentecost, Proper 17, 8/29/2021
Psalm 45:1-2; 6-9

Relating to One Another Psalm 45 8-29-2021

This morning’s lectionary provides us with several texts that announce a sense of formality in coming into the presence of God. Song of Solomon reminds us that the winter has passed, that the rains have ceased, and that it’s time to come away with our love. The Deuteronomist recounts God’s instructions to remember covenant as the Israelites enter a new land. James’ epistle offers counsel on truth-bearing; Mark’s gospel distinguishes between internal and external purity. Our psalmist offers imagery of a wedding feast.

Most likely, this morning’s text is a psalm written for the occasion of a royal wedding – this is counsel or encouragement to a king about to marry his bride. I suppose we could also force an allegory on this text and understand this king to be messiah. To be honest with you, I’m not really interested in litigating the setting or intent of today’s psalm. Or even the idea of marriage for that matter.

I would imagine our experience with royal weddings is limited to what we’ve seen on the Today Show coverage of William and Kate, or Harry and Meghan. (I’m 100% Team Meghan by the way!). It’s also not a stretch to say that our understanding of marriage has changed significantly in the last two millennia. In the great majority of instances, marriage is no longer bound up in political alliances, nor is it used as the primary means for transfer of wealth from one generation to another. Collaboration, equity, and partnership have replaced a patriarchal insistence on domination and subservience. And of course, our concept of marriage has broadened, and will hopefully continue to broaden even more, to acknowledge sacred love and partnerships that transcend gender, class, race, age, and other norms.

This text has a handsome groom. And the sanctuary is decked out. And yes, Daddy spent an absurd amount on the party, and all the accompaniments. Don’t get lost in these details.

Just like our other texts in today’s lectionary, our author uses an example of what he/she views as a righteous relationship, in a context very different from ours, to express an understanding of how to commune with the living God.

I read this Psalm, and I want to imagine relationships. I hear images that resonate with me: a heart that overflows with a goodly theme; an abundant grace that pours out like a spring we can drink; a God whose presence is constant, one that leads with a scepter of equity; a people who love what’s good and abhor what’s bad, and in that intentional pursuit of goodness find abundance in community; robes, made sweet with organic oils and scents; beautiful music from stringed instruments in lodgings made of the finest crafted materials; God’s beloved; sisters, brothers, kindred, all standing in the goodness of one another.

Again, this week the Psalmist bears witness to God’s goodness made manifest in the land of the living. Our living! What happens, when in the presence of a good God, faithful people do justice, and love mercy, and walk humbly with one another? We abide in God’s abundance!

But I think this psalm would have been a lot easier to preach two summers ago. I think we could reach out and touch it just a tad bit easier.

This pandemic season has presented SO many challenges. But I think the biggest challenge has been in the living of our relationships.

It’s hard to pen a goodly theme when we are exhausted by overwhelming headlines and new anxieties. Two years ago, our first instinct would be to say, “We can’t wait to hug the happy couple.” This week, we wonder, “Do you think it’s safe to be in the same room with them?”

God’s grace is like a water fountain. Hit the button, and find all you need on demand. Except this accessible thing is somehow inaccessible right now, because it’s hard to drink with a mask on your face, and there’s a sign that says, “Fountain temporarily closed.”

We long to be an extension of God’s equitable scepter in our world. And yet our need to be safe, and even the systemic safety we are privileged to cling to, prevents our reach. In this past year, our generosity has too often been confined to a transactional nature.

Zoom does not yet offer a way to smell, so we can’t enjoy the scent of aloe, and myrrh, and cassia just yet. And what we’d give to sing aloud at full blast in the company of the upright.

For us, God has been revealed in community. God has been revealed in the meeting of human need. God has been revealed in the sharing of human experiences. God has been expressed in the sight, and sound, and smell, and taste, and touch of everyday relationships.

Jacqueline is fond of reminding me that flamingos are the most social of creatures. They flock together. They become distressed and dysfunctional in their isolation. Zookeepers will often house sick flamingos in mirrored rooms to increase their comfort level.

Sardis, we, too, are social creatures. And while we are lucky to be back to some limited in-person events, I think we are a lot like those flamingos longing to lap up a lake of community together. We aren’t quite ourselves when we don’t have that human connection.

I also think about this grand wedding banquet. I bet the bride and groom feel such a sense of energy being in the company of all those dear family and friends who have supported them, and getting to express their love and commitment in such a holy and sacred presence. But at some point, the band will stop playing, and their friends will have to scatter back to their own responsibilities, and they’ll find themselves feeling isolated in a busy world. And this couple will have to rely on a shared spirit, and a more internal sense of resolve to navigate a season in the wilderness.

I think the challenge for us today is to consider how we can manifest our relationships with one another beyond our traditional ways of being relational. We have zoom fatigue. And even people fatigue! How can we move beyond our fatigue to drink in God’s abundant grace?

I don’t have a specific answer to give to you. But I will say this. I believe that ours is a holy, sacred, resilient relationship. I believe God is present with us. And I commit myself to being open to new ways to experience and express God’s spirit in your presence. I hope you will do the same.

Because I think we have the ability to act, and be, and do, and love in creative ways. I think we can sing songs without the benefit of a chorus, and make music with something other than stringed instruments; I think our spirits can gather, even when we our bodies can’t be housed in halls made of ivory; I think we can be married to, partnered to, in love with one another and God even when the formal wear gives way to sweatpants and the silverware gives way to sporks and chopsticks. I think, our relationships can take on a Eucharistic quality – I think, if they are rooted in God’s spirit, they can transcend space, and time, and mood, and attitude, and even pandemic fatigue.

Friends, may God give us strength to be a relational people in unrelatable times! And may our relationships reflect the equitable, loving, creative One we serve. May it be so, and may it be soon! Amen.