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Sunday, July 19, 2015

"Song of Songs: Alternative Music"

Sunday, July 19, 2015  
First Congregational United Church of Christ – Sermon by Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

Just over a week ago, during Wimbledon, the New York Times ran an article entitled, “Tennis’s Top Women Balance Body Image with Ambition.”[1] The lead in is all about Serena Williams and I adore Serena Williams, so I clicked through.

In the article, several of tennis’s top female athletes and their coaches are interviewed about how they feel about the appearance of their bodies. There are quotes from women who say things like, “Of course I care about [what I look like] because I’m a girl,” and a player who says she hates to see photos of herself hitting two-handed backhands because her bulging arm muscles make her feel “unfeminine.”

The article goes on and on, contrasting Serena Williams’ muscular physique with the mostly smaller builds of other female tennis stars. Andrea Petkovic, says she doesn’t want to appear “unfeminine” and acknowledges that caring about this is “stupid” but that all women have insecurities about their bodies. Petkovic says, “I would love to be a confident player that is proud of her body. Women, when we grow up we’ve been judged more, our physicality is judged more, and it makes us self-conscious.”

And I need to read you this full paragraph because summarizing it just won’t do it justice,
Maria Sharapova, a slender, blond Russian who has been the highest-paid female athlete for more than a decade because of her lucrative endorsements, said she still wished she could be thinner. “I always want to be skinnier with less cellulite; I think that’s every girl’s wish,” she said, laughing.

I don’t know if you’re familiar with what Maria Sharapova looks like, but I can’t really imagine her thinner. She is 6’2’’ and weighs 130 pounds. Now, I’m not shaming thin people. I think all body types are beautiful. But I am distressed to think that someone who is already as slender as Sharapova wants to be even thinner. I am saddened to discover that women who are at the top of their game, women who use their bodies daily to excel in their chosen field, women who are revered for what their bodies can do….some of these women think that it’s “every girl’s wish” to be skinnier.

The article, though, was written to contrast Serena Williams’ with these other women. Which isn’t hard to do, of course. In addition to schooling them all left and right, Williams’ has never really “fit in” in the world of tennis. She is black. She’s from Compton. She has a powerful, muscular physique….and she’s proud of it.

She says this wasn’t always the case. That, for years, she resisted weights because she didn’t want to bulk up. But, eventually, she says, she realized, "you really have to learn to accept who you are and love who you are. I’m really happy with my body type, and I’m really proud of it. Obviously it works out for me.[2]

I can’t decide if it makes me feel better or worse to know that all of these strong, healthy, powerful, successful women also look at themselves in the mirror in the morning and worry about what they look like. I do think it speaks powerfully to the reality that it’s nearly impossible to grow up female in our society without absorbing the images and demands that are thrown at us every day. The impossible standards of beauty are – just that – impossible. And I know that men, too, struggle with confidence because of unreasonable expectations.  

One of the things my faith has provided for me over the course of my life has been an alternate story. When the world tells me one thing, my faith and my experience of God tells me another. When the world tells me I’m doing it all wrong and that I’m not enough and no one will love me, my faith reminds me that I am a beloved child of God. When the world tells me I need to hoard everything and make sure I am prepared to take care of myself, my faith reminds me that I am called to look around me and see who might need my help. When the world tells me that the most important thing about my worth as a woman is my appearance, my faith reminds me that I am so much more than an object for strangers to gaze upon.

The Song of Songs is a poem that goes on and on about beauty. A quick read through might cause a feminist like me to say, “Ugh. Another book that’s all about objectifying women,” and put it away.

But if we do that, we miss out on so much. Because the Song of Songs is actually quite subversive. And it provides several alternative stories to the ones the world tells us about our worth, our sexuality, and our relationships with one another.

The two main characters in the Song are both nameless. One is a man and one is a woman, but as Harvard scholar Stephanie Paulsell notes in her commentary on the book, “Gender and sexuality remain fluid in the history of the interpretation” of this book. She reminds us that “there are many places for a reader to stand in the Song.”[3] Those in same-sex or same-gender relationships can certainly learn from this book as well.

One of the astounding things about the Song is that the woman has so very much to say! In many parts of the Bible women are silenced, but in the Song the woman speaks up. Two-thirds of the entire text are spoken by the woman. By the way, when you are reading this on your own, one of the tricks is this: you need to think of it as a drama. There are three speakers, the woman, the man, and the “daughters of Jerusalem” (who are basically a chorus). Unfortunately, there are no headers in the text telling you who is speaking when. I’ve found it helpful to write that in myself in the margins of my Bible.

The woman’s words and the words of her lover provide a striking alternative to other parts of the Bible when it comes to gender and sexuality. The Song is surprisingly progressive and sings an alternative story that is powerfully good news for us today. I want to highlight just three of these alternative songs contained within the holy words of this book.

The first alternative song contained in this book is the song of a confident woman.  Like Serena, the woman in the Song is proud of herself. The very first words she speaks, “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth,” are words of a person who is comfortable in their own skin and feels at ease playfully inviting their partner to come closer.

As the woman speaks, she tells her lover, “I am black and beautiful,” or in older translations, “I am black BUT beautiful.” The Hebrew can be read either way, apparently. Over the years, some have read this as the woman apologizing for her appearance, but others see her as claiming her own, unique beauty. It’s important to remember “black” as a race didn’t exist when these words were written.

Instead, the woman is referring to her skin as dark, because she has been laboring in the fields in the sun. Apparently, this is not seen as desirable in her culture, but she says confidently, “I am beautiful.” Throughout the Song, the woman speaks of herself – her actions, her body, her spirit – in positive terms. She is not looking in the mirror at her cellulite and wishing she could be thinner.

The woman says that her skin became dark because her brothers forced her to work in the fields. She says, “They made me keeper of the vineyards, but my own vineyard I have not kept.” Here, she gives us a clue to something else we can learn from this book. The second alternative song contained in this book is a song about the nature of human sexuality.

Throughout the book, both lovers use the phrase “vineyard” as code for the woman, specifically the gift of her sexuality. Let me tell you plainly: this book would never make it into an abstinence-only sex ed course. The woman and the man are clearly not married. Further, they seem to be young – sneaking around from place to place, trying to find hidden places where they can enjoy each other in private. Interestingly enough, they sometimes hide out in their mothers’ homes – apparently with the approval of their mothers. There is no discussion of marriage, no statements about a commitment that will be forever.

And there is no shame. The woman says, “My own vineyard I have not kept,” meaning, “I am in control of my own body and I have given it to another for mutual enjoyment.” She’s not apologetic. She’s not ashamed. She is simply enjoying the God’s good gift of her body and her sexuality, which she chooses to share with another person she respects and trusts for their mutual enjoyment. There’s no pledge card for her to sign, saying she’ll “save herself for marriage.” She owns herself, she answers only to herself, and she uses her own body as she chooses.

The woman offers herself to her lover because she wants to. And her lover eagerly accepts. The two banter back and forth and delight in all that the other has to offer. It is a relationship of mutuality and respect. The third alternative song contained in this book is a song of two lovers who are equals.

Throughout the book, the lovers are constantly making requests of each other. Paulsell notes that they make these requests in the forms of “wishes, invitations, and the sweetest words of persuasion.”[4]  No where in the book do they make demands. There is no “you must” in this relationship.[5]

Instead, they playfully sing words of adoration and love, beckoning the other to come nearer, to join in the dance.

One of the most clever things about their back-and-forth is the way the lovers echo each other’s images. The woman introduces an image and the man later returns it to her. Or the man speaks in a particular code and the woman returns the favor. For example, in the first chapter the woman says, “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth! For your love is better than wine.” Much later, near the end of the book, the man returns, “your kisses are like the best wine that goes down smoothly.”[6] It’s a bit like watching a relaxed tennis match, actually, as the two receive the words from their partner and gently return the ball back to the other side of the court.  

The two are completely enamored with each other and totally devoted. In the closing chapter the man jokes about Solomon having so many lovers, but, he says, “My vineyard, my very own, is for myself. You, O Solomon, may have the thousand.” He only needs her. She only needs him. The woman says of the man, “This is my beloved and this is my friend.”

Their respect for one another is beautiful to observe.

The book is a gift to us. It is a song that needs to be heard. Because we are forever inundated with other songs that tell us lies: that we are not beautiful enough, that our worth lies only in our appearance, that sexual desire is something to be ashamed of, that our roles in our romantic and sexual relationships are governed by our gender.

But the Song of Songs sings an alternative song.

In this book, we are reminded that it is a joy to be cherished by another human being. We are reminded that we are able to more fully see the Holy by appreciating the beauty found in humanity. The Song reminds us that sexuality is a good gift from God and that it is meant to be enjoyed between consenting, mature people. The Song holds up a model of a relationship where two people trust each other, care for one another, enjoy each other. The lovers delight in each other, play together, and listen to each other closely. They are open to the possibility of being changed by another. Through their interactions, we see them shift and change as they listen to their beloved friend.

Isn’t this what romantic love, sexual love is supposed to be about? Opening ourselves to the possibility of more living ever more fully into God’s dreams for us? Opening ourselves to the gift of change and growth? Opening ourselves to joy, pleasure, and fun experienced in an atmosphere of trust and respect?

And to think…all of that was right here in the Bible all along. Who would have guessed? 





[1] http://www.nytimes.com/2015/07/11/sports/tennis/tenniss-top-women-balance-body-image-with-quest-for-success.html?ref=tennis
[2] All the quotes above are from the NYT article: http://www.nytimes.com/2015/07/11/sports/tennis/tenniss-top-women-balance-body-image-with-quest-for-success.html?ref=tennis
[3] Paulsell, Stephanie and Harvey Cox. Lamentations and the Song of Songs, p. 185.
[4] Paulsell, 259.
[5] Ibid.
[6] Song of Songs 7:8

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