This ritual can be shared at Valentine’s Day, All Souls Day, or any Sunday whose focus is Love and/or our relationships with others. With some modifications, it could also be used to honor Mothering or Fathering Days.**
Preparation
- This ritual requires multiple stations: tables that each hold a large punch bowl about 1/2 filled with water; a small bowl of salt; and scattered flower petals. (Some flower shops will agree to give you flowers that they're preparing to throw out.)
- If your congregation livestreams its services, and because this ritual invites vulnerability, it's recommended to put at least one station in the back of the sanctuary to provide privacy.
- Ask the congregation's accompanist to prepare five to ten minutes of music.
- Rituals can't be rushed. For every 25 people anticipated in worship, prepare 2 stations and allow at least five minutes. (If you expect 100 people in worship, 2 stations will take 8 minutes but 4 stations will take a minimum of 5 minutes.)
- Rituals should always unfold with consent. Resist the temptation to usher people out of each row, or to verbally encourage people to participate. (Your value as a worship leader isn't measured by how many people take part.) Let people participate as they need to.
- Prepare to follow the ritual's instructions (below) to pour the water, salt, and petals into a safe corner of your grounds.
Optional reading/inspiration for homily
Each of us here knows something about how love works. What do you know about how love exerts its power between people? What has love taught you about the beauty and the bitterness that can arise from its presence in our lives?
In her book All About Love, the late bell hooks writes,
The word "love" is most often defined as a noun, yet all the more astute theorists of love acknowledge that we should all love better if we used it as a verb…
Throughout her book, hooks frames love as an action; a practice. She also reminds us that “The practice of love offers no place of safety. We risk loss, hurt, pain. We risk being acted upon by forces outside our control.”
You know this, if you’ve opened your heart to anyone: There is no love without risk. People are not loving and loyal all of the time.
That last truth is offered by David Richo, a Buddhist psychotherapist. He elaborates—just in case our lived experience hasn’t made it clear:
Sometimes people keep their promises and sometimes they do not. Sometimes people love us loyally and faithfully, even unconditionally. Sometimes they hate, reject, abandon, or betray us.
It might feel liberating to name those truths. Perhaps they’re a reminder that when any of us feel vulnerable or unloved, or we struggle to maintain love and loyalty, it doesn’t mean that we’re unlovable or less than whole. It means that we’re human.
Telling these truths—that relationships can be hard, and require work from us—is also empowering. It can be a gift to remember that in many of our relationships (not all!), we have choices about how to name boundaries and expectations—even if we only do so privately. We often have choices about where to compromise; choices about when to forgive; and choices about what to work on.
The practice of loving, despite a perfect track record, means choosing when to risk our tender hearts. And doing it again.
Introducing the Ritual
You might be carrying a story within you about love’s power—or about the pain of how difficult love can be. If one of those stories is about struggle or fear or loss, the ritual we’re about to share is an invitation to set it down; to loosen your fist around that story. Just for today. Just for this week.
At the front and back of the sanctuary, there are bowls of water. Next to each vessel is a bowl of salt, and a pile of flower petals.
The petals are a reminder of love’s beauty, and our gratitude for how love shows up in our lives.
The salt is a reminder of tears that we’ve shed, because of loss or betrayal or mistakes.
As [accompanist] plays—and as long as it takes—you’re free to approach the bowl and choose to whatever feels right: petals to give thanks for love in your life; salt to express grief for the loss of love; or both.
If you’d rather not move around the sanctuary, or if you’re on zoom, here’s a different way to participate:
Adjust your position so that you can soften and connect with yourself. Hold both of your hands face up.
With your eyes closed or open, imagine that your left hand is holding soft, fragrant flower petals. Run the silky petals through your fingers, offering gratitude for the ways that you’ve been loved—for the people and beings who love you. Make your heart as soft as the petals.
In your right hand, imagine a pile of salt crystals. Feel them bite into your hand, and crunch, as you squeeze the salt. Allow yourself to mourn the love that’s led to pain, whether it was through death or rupture or betrayal. Breathe into that grief or anger, and let the salt absorb it.
Let’s begin. This time belongs to you.
Allow ample time for people to visit the stations, without coercion.
Blessing
After the last person has come forward, pick up one of the bowls.
These waters hold some of our gratitude for love’s beauty and blessings. These waters also hold our grief; our tears; the evidence of our brave hearts.
After today’s service, this water—with its beauty and bitterness—will be carried onto our grounds and given back to the earth.
May we bear witness—not just today, but also in the days to come—to the quiet presence of love in our lives.
May we give thanks for love’s power to connect and enliven us.
May we forgive ourselves for risking our hearts to love.
May we keep our hearts open, despite the wounds they’ve endured.
And may we offer one another deep respect for being willing to say “yes” to love.
**Adaptation for Mothering/Fathering Sundays
If you adapt this ritual for the Sundays known as Mother's Day or Father's Day, be very mindful of the pain (and even trauma) that some people are carrying. Allow more time for this ritual—people might be slower to come forward, and take longer at the station—and be especially thoughtful about ending and then transitioning out of the ritual. It might also be wise to provide pastoral care opportunities following the service.
The language to introduce the ritual might be modified thusly:
You likely have countless memories and stories about the love you've experienced from a mother figure/father figure. You likely also have memories or stories about that love being complicated, conflicted, or even absent. The ritual we’re about to share is an invitation to sit with both kinds of memories: to offer thanks for the life-giving memories, and to acknowledge the ones that are painful. (If the latter is too hard to do alone, there will be pastoral care associates available after the service...)
At the front and back of the sanctuary, there are bowls of water. Next to each vessel is a bowl of salt, and a pile of flower petals.
The petals are a reminder of love’s beauty, and our gratitude for the mothers and mothering figures (or fathers and father figures) who have loved us, cared for us, and helped grow us into the people we are.
The salt is a reminder of tears that we’ve shed because of loss or mistakes. Perhaps our mothers/fathers didn't always love us the way we needed them to; perhaps we've struggled to forgive them for their choices and flaws. Perhaps the salt represents your own regrets as a parent, or the struggle to forgive yourself for how complicated it can be to be a parent.
As [accompanist] plays—and as long as it takes—you’re free to approach the bowl and choose to whatever feels right: petals to give thanks for love received; salt to express grief for missing love; or both.
If you’d rather not move around the sanctuary, or if you’re on zoom, here’s a different way to participate:
Adjust your position so that you can soften and connect with yourself. Hold both of your hands face up.
With your eyes closed or open, imagine that your left hand is holding soft, fragrant flower petals. Run the silky petals through your fingers, offering gratitude for the ways that you’ve been loved by mother figures/father figures. Make your heart as soft as the petals.
In your right hand, imagine a pile of salt crystals. Feel them bite into your hand, and crunch, as you squeeze the salt. Allow yourself to acknowledge the pain of not being loved wholly or fully by a mother figure/father figure. If you're grieving a loss, honor the longing that your heart holds for them. Breathe into that grief and let the salt absorb it.
The music will help us. And we—a brave, collective presence—are here to bear witness to the unspoken stories that are in this sacred space with us.
This time belongs to all of us.
After the ritual:
These waters hold some of our gratitude for love’s beauty and blessings. These waters also hold our grief; our tears; the evidence of our brave hearts.
After today’s service, this water—with its beauty and bitterness—will be carried onto our grounds and given back to the earth.
May we give abundant thanks—not just today, but also in the days to come—for the many people whose love has been life-giving; those who have loved us into being.
May we give thanks for the courage to grieve the absence of love.
May we forgive ourselves for risking our hearts to love.
May we keep our hearts open, despite the wounds they’ve endured.
And may we offer one another deep respect for being willing to say “yes” to love.
Sources:
All About Love by bell hooks and The Five Things We Cannot Change and the Happiness We Find By Embracing Them by David Richo.