Burns Supper

Last night, I gave the "toast to the lassies" at a Burns Supper. The text is below. (Everyone should attend a Burns Supper at least once. Haggis, whisky, poetry, song and camaraderie. What could be better?)

First of all, I would like to thank the lovely Fiona for once again hosting another successful, delicious and poetic Burns feast. I feel heartier, manlier, now that I’m “Haggis-fed.” A special thanks to Lisa and her roommates for letting this group of hungry Scots invade her house (for, after all, if everyone is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day, would it follow that we are all Scottish for the Burns Supper?). And, finally, biggest thanks of all to whoever brought the wine (whisky), without which no speech, for hearers or speakers, could be tolerated.

When I was asked to say the toast to the lassies, I knew I was in for a tremendous challenge. No man has ever been able to understand, much less explain, much less tame, the fairer sex. Now, I know that many here go to Church of the Resurrection. Rez is the first church I’ve attended to practice (it appears to me at least) ancient liturgy. And as part of a church that appreciates the ancients, I have decided to turn to the church father’s for wisdom regarding women. As we all know, as members of an “ancient-future” church, if a church father has said it, it must be holy.

St. Ambrose –

“It is just and right that woman accepts as lord and master him whom she has led to sin.”

St. John Chrysostom –

“Among all savage beasts, none is found so harmful as woman.”

St. Patrick prays against “the spells of women, and smiths, and druids, against every knowledge that binds the soul of man.”

Yet, St. Thomas Aquinas (who would flee any woman who approached him) aside, our very presence proves that throughout the ages, men have not heeded the advice of their church fathers. They have not avoided the fairer sex as they would vipers. Indeed, for venturing in this very room, where the lassies clearly outnumber the lads, John Chrysostom would have considered me very foolish man indeed. In sum, in spite the wise warnings of church fathers, we men continue to be attracted to women. We can discuss some other time if that is sin.

What is it about you lassies that intoxicates us so much, and in ways that strike fear in the hearts of ancient pastors? Is it adolescent hormones? Is it the biological and evolutionary need to make sure our genes are passed along to the next generation?

While there is certainly truth to these propositions, I would like to propose spiritual grounds for the perseverance of inter-gender relationships.

Look back at Genesis, before the creation of the first couple, we read of God speaking order into chaos. The culmination of his created order was:

“So God created man in his own image, 
in the image of God he created him; 
male and female he created them”

That is nice, isn’t it?

Now, we read on to discover that there was a time, in the original Garden of Eden, where there was man without woman. Can you imagine what the garden must have been like? If there were any decorations at all, they certainly would not have matched. Likely the only furniture was a couple of inflatable chairs advertising Miller-Lite and an old pool table covered with beer-stains, and perhaps a TV leaned up against the tree of life with a random assortment of action and comedy DVDs lying half opened in the flowery meadows. We probably don’t want to think about the state of the Eden bathroom, for that matter. I can imagine God scratching his beard, adjusting his spectacles and musing, “it is not good for man to be alone.”

To bring order into this man-made chaos, an animal would not do. Pets are great, but they would not have brought about the created order. God created a human partner suitable for the task. As the story goes, when Adam first saw Eve standing there, he dropped his video game controller in the grass and said, “whoa, man!” And the rest, as they say, is History.

In short, God has given men few things other than woman to help us grow up. I have known the dirtiest scoundrel become the most proper gentlemen for the sake of the lassies. I’ve seen lads transformed into responsible, contributing men, bringing order into chaos, when they realize the bewitching eyes of woman have fallen upon him.

I am an example of this. This year, I married the fairest lass of them all, who, through grace and love from God only knows where, reached into my manly little world, beer stains (and mustard stains, and marinara stains, mysterious meat stains)and all, and brought me into a sense of things bigger than myself. Indeed, it’s no wonder that Ambrose and John Chrysostom feared something so mysterious and transformative. In one of his more positive poems on marriage, Robert Burns put it this way:

On Wedding Rings 

She asked why wedding rings are made of gold;

I ventured this to instruct her;

Why, madam, love and lightening are the same,

On earth they glance, from Heaven they came.

Love is the soul's electric flame,

And gold its best conductor. 

Whether we happen to be married or single, love of woman, received or given, changes men into something more courageous, orderly and adult.

Now, lassies, I warn you. All this does not mean you will be able to completely change your man (just ask my wife, and the stains she is constantly washing off of my shirts). The story of Adam and Eve does not have a happy ending, and we live in a fallen world. Our beloved Poet’s relationship with women was often over-abundant, to say the least. Yet I read Proverbs 31, the wife of noble character, perhaps, aside from our Lord himself, the best description of a real grown-up I find in the Bible. Liberated, yet committed. Working, in the family and in the community. Devoted, and true to her calling. Loving, in a way that was contagious, especially to her husband.  Much like my own wife, and much like the women of God in this room.

Lassies, this does not excuse you from savagery. This power you have over men has been wielded for evil and pain, and we must often take pity on the lads. But I look around the room, this table, this food, the decorations, the order and beauty – much of what works well in the world not be without the work of woman. It is truly not good for a man to be alone. So all ye rustics, haggis-fed, raise your glasses! I give you, the Lassies!