Inescapably

The sermon is titled "Standing on the Side of Love."

I can’t hear it. All I can think is:

Love doesn’t take sides.

Love is the field on which our petty battles rage,

each, on our side, glares across at the Other,

mindless of the supporting ground.

Love is the humble crawlers that clean up our carnage,

unsophisticatedly present, but oh so surely

setting things right once again.

Love is the quiet leafy stuff that empearls our ugly achievements,

growing and dying with infinite grace,

a dignity beyond interests, beyond divisions.

Love is the cool water deep underground,

the dying stars that birthed it,

and the flowing, glowing rock still below.

A dividing line creates two sides.

A square, six.

A box, eight, and so on;

Too many sides; insides, outsides, our sides, theirs.

Love’s infinite sphere has none,

yet encloses all spaces,

Infuses all particles.

You cannot stand outside the universe.

You cannot stand outside yourself.

No, my beloveds, you are not standing on the side of Love.

You are Love, all of you, on every side,

within, without,

inescapably.