I had the distinct honor and
personal privilege of officiating at the wedding of friends last night. While I
number myself among the many clergy who are not big fans of weddings because so
often there’s nothing particularly holy about the matrimonial rites we’re asked
to clerk for, I love being able to participate in services for friends.
Especially for friends who are people of deep faith, and for whom the service
is about the worship of God instead of the worship of style.
I’ve done lots of weddings over the
years, and certainly some have been more about style than substance. Fortunately,
I don’t have as many of those because the church I serve has a marriage
equality commitment. Until quite recently that commitment included a
restriction on signing legal documents for any couple. As a result of imposing
the added step of going to the justice of the peace to take care of the civil
marriage piece we don’t get as much “drive-by” wedding business as many
churches. That’s just fine by me, because one great benefit of the policy has
been that we get to be a whole lot more focused on the Jesus business than on
the wedding business.
Still, even in the context of
services that get to focus more on the love of God than on the romance of
lovers, last night’s service stood out as a powerful Christian witness to faith
in a loving God.
Last night here’s a little bit of
what I got to say:
“As the teacher declared in
Ecclesiastes, two are better than one … they help each other up … they keep
each other warm. Two are better than one. But what really caught my ear in that
reading is the final line: ‘a threefold cord is not quickly broken.’
“Two
cords are great, but the third cord binds the braid. The third cord, so clear
in the witness of your lives, is the love of the One who created us all, and
who gives us the gift of love to share.
“The
God who created us all, and who loves us all, also calls us all. Indeed, that
God will not be mocked. If all we do, in all of our incredible privilege in
this place, is have a nice party and make of love the private possession of the
privileged and safe, then we make a mockery of the promises of God. With our
privilege comes a great deal of power, and the responsibility to use it well.
“The
threefold cord is strong because the work of binding up the brokenhearted, of
bearing one another’s burdens, of loving one another always, ‘ain’t no crystal
stair.’
“It
is, nevertheless, the work to which we are called. It is the work to which you
are called. The beloved community of two – which you have built over these
decades, and which you here, tonight, promise to hold onto until death do you
part – the beloved community of two also informs and invites and calls into being
the beloved community of all.
“This
charge is what most decidedly separates the Christian marriage we declare here
from the civil marriage we will solemnize a little bit later this evening.
“Love
belongs to God. But not a simple, sentimental love – a love that is intimately
bound up with the pursuit of justice. That intimate binding is what the third
cord does.
“The
work of the third cord reminds us that, as Martin Luther King put it, ‘power
without love is reckless and abusive, and love without power is sentimental and
anemic. Power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice, and
justice at its best is power correcting everything that stands against love.’
“So, your charge this evening is
simple: love each other well. Love each other with tenderness and kindness.
Love each other with silly notes in lunch bags. Love each other with gifts, and
journeys, and good food. Love each other with a love that overflows the bounds
of your own lives and flows out broadly and powerfully – washing over and transforming
everything that stands against love. Let your love shape, inform and become
your ultimate work in the world.”
The couple exchanged vows, and in
heartfelt words that they crafted, each spoke of how important the church and
their faith has been to their lives and their relationship. Each of them is an
elder in the Presbyterian church. It was a remarkable testimony. It was holy
and profound.
Oh, and I reckon I should mention
that this service was on the 26th anniversary of the couple’s first
date. So it’s about damn time they got married. Well, of course, until the
recent U.S. Supreme Court decision overturning DOMA they could not. They still
cannot be legally married in the state they’ve called home for a quarter
century.
So after the service of Christian
marriage, in which I pronounced them “married in the eyes of God,” we loaded
into the party bus, drove into the District of Columbia, climbed the steps of
the Lincoln Memorial, and conducted a brief civil service under the steadfast
gaze of the Great Emancipator.
As we stood there, just a few steps
from the spot where two score and ten years ago Dr. King cast a vision of a
future otherwise, I noted that King’s dream was deeply rooted in the founding
dream of America: that all people are created equal and endowed by their
Creator with certain inalienable rights – among these are life, liberty and the
pursuit of happiness. Surely the pursuit of happiness includes the right to
marry the one you love.
With the stroke of a pen, by the
power vested in me by the District of Columbia, I proudly pronounced Ron and
James legally married.
When they kissed the great hall of
the memorial filled with applause. I think I may have even seen a hint of a
smile crease old Abe’s chiseled face.
