Wed. 29 Dec. 2021
Love
Kathleen Slover
Leonard Cohnen’s song, “Hallelujah,” is a beautiful song. It may be considered a love song, and it has been re-recorded many times by all kinds of artists, who belt out the song’s powerful “Hallelujah” refrain within the song’s soulful, moving chord progression. It’s a great song, but Leonard Cohen never set out to write a hit song. In fact, he wrote it at a low point in his prolific career, and the song was buried within an album, only to be picked up by more popular artists years later. In fact, if you listen to the lyrics, the song is less of a dramatic “ode to love” and more of a questioning, disillusionment of love. Half-way through the song, these are the lyrics: “Love is not some kind of victory march, no, it’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah.” I think Cohen nailed it. We all have that story of love: the non-Hallmark, no frills and not pretty version of love. Here’s my story:
I come from a big family, and, as we’ve grown and changed, all my siblings remain very close. It’s a testament to my parents that there is a lot of love in my family. But, as with all families, there is conflict. This summer, I had “beef” with my sister, which, in a large close-knit family is not that uncommon and usually works itself out. This time, though, I was really angry, and I just couldn’t work it out. It culminated at our family reunion - the first one since COVID. I didn't want to ruin the reunion so I managed to keep my mouth shut. But, I was really, really mad. That night, I specifically said to God, “I’ll say my prayers, but I’m not praying for her.” Usually, when I start my prayers, I say an Our Father, a Hail Mary, and a Glory Be. For some reason, though, I skipped the Our Father and went straight to the Hail Mary. “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…” Suddenly, the tears started flowing, and I felt this overwhelming sense of love. WIthout uttering another thought, I felt understood in my frustration but that none of it mattered: all that mattered was love. And, in all my anger, pettiness, ugliness, human-ness, I felt loved. I knew what I had to do: I had to show this love for my sister. When I finally talked with my sister, I started with, “I love you.” Can you believe that it was the first time I ever said that to her? There’s no doubt that Mother Mary came to me that night and showed me the way, as only a mother could do when two sisters are having “beef.”
So, there is that beautiful, dramatic version of love, like the first time you hear Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” and then there’s the other: when our human-ness creates a path of destruction from anger, frustration, pettiness, misunderstanding, ego…whatever…and the only thing left on that “cold and broken” landscape is love. I am so blessed to have the gift of God’s love because, without it, there’s no way I could practice that love with others.