Sermon preached by The Rev. Dr. Harold T. Lewis

SERMON PREACHED BY THE REVEREND DR. HAROLD T. LEWIS, RECTOR CALVARY EPISCOPAL CHURCH, PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA ON THE LAST SUNDAY AFTER THE EPIPHANY 18 FEBRUARY 2007


"Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth." (I Cor. 13: 4-5)

This morning I shall preach about love, but I won't make the same mistake I made early in my ministry when I attempted to preach on the subject. On that occasion, I ended the sermon with these words: "As Shakespeare once said, 'How can I love thee? Let me count the ways.'" I shall ever be indebted to the English professor in the congregation who greeted me at the door. After saying, "Nice sermon, Father," he leaned over and whispered three words into my ear, now seared in my memory: "Elizabeth Barrett Browning."

The languages of the ancients were far more precise than English, and the Greeks had three words for love. There was eros, which as my Greek professor would say, comes from our word "erotic," which deals with the physical, especially genital expression of love. Then there is philia, which as we know from our friends in our sister city on the other end of the Commonwealth, means "brotherly love." But the love I want to zero in on this morning is agape, which, if I remember Plato correctly, was considered the highest form of love. Fueled by neither physical attraction nor family ties, it has to do with a desire for the very best for every human being, wishing everyone well, being desirous of contentment on the part of others. We get an inkling of the meaning of agape when we remember that Latin Bibles used the word caritas in its place, which is why in the KJV of Paul's great tribute to love, which is today's epistle, read "faith, hope and charity abide these three, but the greatest of these is charity."

Paul makes it abundantly clear that love trumps just about everything. Faith and prophetic powers without love count for nothing. Giving away one's possessions, and even martyrdom are empty gestures if love is not part of the equation. So as to remove all confusion, the Apostle also describes certain attributes of love. It is, for example, "patient and kind." Then he tells us what love is not: envious, boastful, arrogant, rude. It never insists on its own way, is not irritable or resentful, does not rejoice in wrongdoing but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, and it lasts forever.

When we read these words, our first reaction is "What planet does Paul come from?" or "What rock has he been living under?" We have all experienced, in our relationships that purport to be loving, all of the above, and probably in the last few days. Who among us has not been impatient, unkind or irritable? Who among us hasn't said, in effect, "My way or the highway," whether it refers to an in-law's visit or the proverbial conundrum about which way the toilet paper should hang? And what about love never ending? It most assuredly does, Paul. Obviously he didn't see the Valentine's Day special on the Today Show about heartbreak (even with physicians who suggested that that was more than a figure of speech) featuring eight young women whose relationships had ended, and how they dealt with it. (My first reaction, by the way, was "Don't men have heartbreaks too?")

Paul wasn't as clueless as it might first appear. His love poem is part of a letter he wrote to a group of new Christians in Corinth. Apparently there had been some doctrinal disputes among the Corinthians (there is nothing new under the sun). Some Corinthians, as you remember, preferred Apollos' teaching to Paul's. They also had concerns not unlike ours today. They were wondering about whether social justice was the most important thing they should be about, or if they should be deepening their spirituality. Is democracy the best form of government? Paul's response was that teaching the right doctrine, finding the right spiritual practice, latching on to this philosopher or that --- all these things will fade away. Only love lasts forever. And every couple who chooses this epistle to be read at their wedding knows intuitively that in listing these attributes, Paul is not describing human behavior, but is holding up instead an ideal, a divine ideal which we human beings, despite our limitations, may dare to emulate.

I would like to suggest that these attributes of love --- or their absence --- can be seen not only in married or partnered couples, or between lovers or sweethearts or movie stars or office mates deemed to be an "item." They can also be seen in institutions, which, after all, are made up of groups of people. If anything has characterized Anglicanism in the last few years, it has been bickering, and these situations have made even the most charitable among us irritable and resentful. Arrogance and boasting have been in long supply, with this group or that claiming to be orthodox and others apostate. Insisting on their own way has been a battle cry of those who have thrown down the gauntlet --- like threats on the part of bishops and archbishops to absent themselves from Lambeth if certain other bishops show up. Things got so bad that prophets of doom of every theological persuasion were predicting that schism was imminent, and that Anglican Communion, unlike love, would not last forever; indeed that it would not survive until Ash Wednesday. Even our own bishop suggested that a new province, made up of so-called orthodox Episcopalians, would be formed, necessitating that others of us needed to start packing.

But a strange thing happened on the way to Zanzibar. A subcommittee of the Primates delivered their report, stating in effect that while not using exactly the same language as the Windsor Report, the Episcopal Church was, for the most part, faithful to it. They realized that the language used in our response was sincere, straightforward and conciliatory, not only true to our principles, but holding up a long-held Anglican principle of a large commodious tent, in which all members are not required to walk in lockstep, but are asked instead to respect one another's differences. A cookie-cutter approach to Anglicanism was rejected. I believe that what happened in Dar-es-Salaam was love --- agape --- in action. The primates in their wisdom did not kowtow to the arrogant and the rude in their midst, but submitted instead to the principle that love cuts across all these petty jealousies, grandstanding, and threats of secession. In the spirit of agape, the good of all persons, the good of the whole was paramount.

I think, too, that they were inspired by Paul's words. Listen to the wisdom of the Blessed Apostle: "We know only in part, and we prophesy only in part; but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end." In other words, we don't know everything. The church, lest we forget, used to label as heretics those who thought the world was round or that the sun was the center of the universe. The Lambeth Conference condemned polygamy in 1888 only to rescind its ruling a century later. The Episcopal Church, which refused to condemn slavery out of deference to its slaveholding members, including a goodly number of bishops, now condemns racism as sin. It was not until 1970 that women could be lay deputies to General Convention, and today, a woman presiding bishop sits with her 37 brothers as a primate of the Anglican Communion ---- and by the way, no one has walked out! And while we do not rejoice that seven of them did not see fit to receive communion at the same altar with her, we do take some small comfort that at the last primates' meeting, double that number refused to share the Blessed Sacrament with Bishop Griswold. The Primates in their wisdom listened to Jesus when he said "The Spirit blows where it listeth." They listened to him, as well when he said that he would not leave us comfortless, but send the Holy Spirit to lead us into all truth. And, as Paul suggests, love tempered with patience and kindness will allow us to receive those truths when they come.

As I speak, the Primates are having dinner in preparation for the last day of the conference tomorrow. And there may yet be some surprises. But initial indications are that our worst fears were not realized and that the Anglican Communion, which has been for some time adrift in unchartered waters is once again on an even keel, heading for safe haven. And as for us Episcopalians, we can say with William Ernest Henley, "Our head is bloodied, but unbowed."

Samuel J. Stone wrote "The Church's one foundation" late in the nineteenth century. For some reason, perhaps its unambiguous and to some, offensive language, the original verse three was suppressed, and didn't find its way into our Hymnals. But I have rescued it from obscurity and share it with you this morning, because it seems especially apt: The Church shall never perish! Her dear Lord, to defend, To guide, sustain, and cherish, is with her to the end. Tho' there be those that hate her, false sons within her pale, Against both foe and traitor she ever will prevail.
AMEN.