God is ready

This sermon was given at the wedding of Mack Olson and Jeremy Karagan at St. John's, Petaluma on May 17th, 2014.  Mack was raised up for ordination to the priesthood at St. John's, as is presently serving as Rector of the Episcopal Church of the Epiphany in Vacaville, California.  Jeremy is an ornamental horticulturist.  
You can read the Santa Rosa Press-Democrat's coverage of Mack's ordination service here.   

Ruth 1:16-17

1 John 4:7-16, 21

Psalm 111  

John 2:1-11

Mack and Jeremy met with me several times over the last few months for the counseling that the church requires of a couple that’s going to be married.  And one of the things that came up in the course of our conversations was the question of readiness.  This, I have to say, is not so unusual.  People often have doubts about whether they are ready to be married, before and after their wedding day.  I’m going to guess that many of us here have felt like that at one time or another.

But I had good news for Jeremy and Mack, which was that no one is ever ready.   You can’t get ready to be married, because being married is one of those things you can only learn to do by doing it.   In one sense all we are doing here today is witnessing and celebrating what everyone already knows, that Jeremy and Mack are married.  But you could also just as truthfully say that we have come to offer our support and to bless them, because here they take the first step of a long journey, the journey of becoming truly married, which only begins today.

So, Mack, Jeremy, no, you’re not ready, but that doesn’t matter.  Because marriage is ready for you, and all you have to do now is take each other by the hand and walk through the door.  It’s not any different from what Jesus found out at the wedding in Cana of Galilee.  He wasn’t ready—“My hour is not come,” he said.  But his mother knew better (way to go, Mom!).  He wasn’t ready to come out and reveal himself to his disciples and to the world, but everything was ready for him.  The world was ready for its bridegroom, and Jesus didn’t know it, and the world didn’t know it, but God did.  And so that is where it started—the water of purification and preparation was transformed into the wine of fulfillment.. 

And here we are 1,980-odd years later and the transformation is still ongoing.  But the world still insists it’s not ready—“we’re still not pure enough,” we say, “we’re still not good enough to be united in a covenant of love with God.”  “We can tolerate gay people, but we’re not ready for gay priests.  We can accept that they form lifelong committed relationships, but we’re not ready for same-sex marriage.  We’re not ready—we need more study, more dialogue, more preparation.”  But the mother of Jesus just shrugs, and turns to the servants, to the General Convention of The Episcopal Church, and the Supreme Court of the United States, and the Attorney General of the State of California, and says, “do whatever He tells you.”  And next thing you know, Mack and Jeremy are walking into Camp Noel Porter and there’s Bishop Beisner and he looks at them and they look at him, and they know—not a word even needs to be said.

It must still a little hard for you to believe, Jeremy and Mack, just how quickly something that had been ruled off-limits for you forever became a matter of obedience.  But that’s what a miracle looks like.  That’s the way things happen when God is ready.  And that’s why I had to smile a little bit inside when we met the other day and you were talking about how much has happened over the last couple of years, with Mack’s ordination, and the call to Vacaville, and Jeremy being out of work, and now this, and how you’re looking forward to just kind of letting things be settled and stable for a while.  It could happen, don’t get me wrong, and maybe it will—if God is ready for that, but I wouldn’t count on it.

I suppose there are marriages that are entirely human affairs, which are made solely for the satisfaction of the couple, for their contentment, and comfort, and ease.  But now you’ve gone and come to the church, and asked for yours to be blessed as a Christian marriage, which means that it doesn’t completely belong to the two of you.  It is for you, but as part of something much greater, the ministry of Christ, reconciling all creation to itself and to God.  This is true for you, in a particular way, because one of you is a priest, but it is equally true, in a different way, because one of you is a layman.

    

Even the simplest civil marriage has public aspect.  You have to go in person to a county building to obtain a license issued by the state, entitling you to rights that will be recognized by public institutions like banks, and hospitals, and courts of law.  And even a private ceremony requires an officiant and a witness.  But now you are having this big ceremony where lots of people, representing various aspects of your lives, who don’t know each other very well, have come together and here, with all of us watching, you will make a public declaration of your most tender, intimate hopes and intentions.  In just a moment, all eyes will be on you, as you make your vows.  And before those eyes something hidden will be made manifest. Something invisible will become visible.  Your invisible love for each other will be made visible for all to see. 

But, as we have heard, love is not just love—love is from God and God is love.   And we have a special name in the church for something that makes God visible, not as a private inner mystical experience, but right out there where everyone can see, and hear, and touch, and taste it, and that word is “sacrament.”  Today your love for each other becomes a sacrament, communicating to the world the presence of God.    It is a real presence, and because you have generously invited us to be here, and have mustered up the courage to stand before us, to take each other’s hands and speak your vows, we have the privilege of sharing that presence with you.  You give us a taste of the good wine, the wine of fulfillment and celebration and communion, the vintage of Christ that God pours out in extravagant abundance when the inferior wine is gone.

In this marriage rite we all see a sign of the God of love who gives life to the whole world.  But this sign is embodied in your particular, mutual choosing of just this one person.  It is your covenant with each other, and each other alone, Mack choosing Jeremy, Jeremy choosing Mack, that fills this moment with sacramental power.  And that choice must be made, that covenant renewed, again and again for a lifetime, if the sacrament is to fulfill its promise.   We can support you, and pray for you-- we have just made our vow to do that--but the real holy work, and the grace to do it, is for you, together, alone.  Marriage is priestly work, whether you’re ordained or not, accomplished in daily acts of sacrifice, of listening and noticing and telling the truth, of service and nurture, play and affection, of offering forgiveness and making amends, of standing firm and breaking down, of needing and responding, and coming close, and leaving alone.  

Marriage is a human life, a lifetime, offered to God in that most human of hopes, the hope of loving and being loved.  And when it is done faithfully and well, it fulfills God’s fondest hope for us—that we know love, love that is stronger than fear, stronger than anger, stronger than greed, and impatience, ambition, boredom, fatigue, distraction, self-pity, confusion, sorrow, and resentment.  God’s hope for the whole world is that in steadfastly loving each other, even in the face of death, God’s own love will be perfected in you.