The Eloquence of Silence

The Eloquence of Silence

Silence.

Amen. 

Jesus died and then there was a long, long silence. The silence of his death leaves us uncomfortably bewildered.  

Yesterday, during the March For our Lives, Emma Gonzales stood before the hundreds of thousands and myriads more on Television. She described in excruciating detail the death of the 17; their names and their  “nevermore”.

Then there was a very long awkward and bewildering silence, like the silence in the aftermath of a school shooting.

When my dad died, it was Christmas. I was eight years old at the time. I was bewildered by his death and simply didn’t understand I would never see him again. When I went to bed at night there was nothing but silence. Long, long hours into the night, I cried myself to sleep afraid; “if I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take”.

The Death of Jesus.

Death at Parkland.

My dad’s death.

The long, long bewildering Silence.

Christians still March for our Lives showing forth Jesus’ death until he comes again.

Young people March for our Lives until the adult world hears them and protects them from violent death.

I Marched on for my own life, wondering if I would ever see my dad again.

To this very day, Christian folk March for our Lives around the globe with Palm Branches in their hands. I loved church palms when I was a child. I loved gathering with the church in the garden where we blessed the palms then marched around the block and into the holy place.

Years and years ago I marched for civil rights and an end to a senseless war.

And yesterday millions marched and myriads more on Television witnessed the dawning of a new day in American History.

And Emma stood there in silence, perhaps the most eloquent silence ever spoken in the history of American oratory. 

Years ago as a child, I cried myself to sleep in Silence as I prayed. There was no answer. Until one day on the way home from church I pulled a solitary leaf off an unkempt city hedge and pressed my thumb mindlessly into the girth of that leaf. As I looked down at the chlorophyll stain left of my thumbnail, I realized, that leaf gave its life for me and that’s when I heard it.

Something in my heart of hearts; no voices, just a sense within me seemed to say; “Don’t you know there’s a special place in my heart for the love of your dad!” It was then that I gave voice to what I heard in my heart; I spoke out loud. “Don’t you know there’s a special place in my heart for the love of your dad?”. 

Of course, I checked it our with my grandmother; who was the ultimate authority in theological matters in my young life. And so it came to pass that I decided to become a priest.

And to this day, I will tell all who will listen to me and many who won’t; “Don’t you know there’s a special place in God’s heart for you and those you love.? No exceptions. Period!”

There is a long, long bewildering Silence at the death of Jesus, or students at Parkland or my own father.

If you listen closely to the Silence, the Eloquence of God’s Voice will speak. But you must be still, absolutely still to hear The Voice of God. 

It speaks to us from the Cross.

It spoke to us yesterday in Emma’s Silence.

It spoke to me when I was a child on the way home from church one Summer Sunday. 

Be still and learn with me that the Silence has a Name.

I learned that the Name of the Silence is God.

I learned that the Name of the Silence is Jesus.

I learned that the Name of the Silence is The Holy Spirit.

Silence.

Amen. 

Fr. Paul

The Gate of Heaven

The Gate of Heaven

Faith is a matter of life and death. When we look at the prospect of death we may not see beyond it. We are children of a secular society and children of science. This is a good thing. We are tethered to the truth and as the scripture says; "The truth shall make you free." But questions that science cannot deal with involve matters of experience that go beyond things we can measure or predict. As we explore the mystery of our total human experience, there are things we simply cannot account for merely by observation. As Shakespeare said; "There are more thing in heaven and earth than you can dream of, Horatio!" A few days ago my brother and I were on the phone catching up and he was telling me of a friend who is nearing the end of his life. He was deeply saddened. His friend was afraid. I reminded Bob; "Don't forget to guide him to the Gate of Heaven!" As a parish priest, I am responsible for walking with folks right up to the Gate of Heaven. I told him of the many times I do this, simply because that is the nature of the work I do. 

When I was at St. John's Church in Sandwich, it happened that a dear woman in her 90's was informed by her doctors that there was nothing more that they could do. Now, St John's Church has an amazing Thrift Shop. If you are ever on the Cape stop by and browse around for a bit. There's an impressive collection of brick a brack to explore. Well, Irene's job was to price all these items. The nice thing about the Thrift Shop is that it helps folks buy things they need in an affordable way. And the proceeds all go to support the mission and ministry of St. John's Church. When she discovered that her time was approaching all she wanted to know was that there would be a Thrift Shop in heaven where she could price God's items for sale for God's poor. I assured her, after some prayer, that there indeed was such a place for her. After all, "In God's house there are many mansions!" As it happened one cold winter's night we had just arrived home in Lynn, when I received a phone call from the head nurse in a Falmouth Nursing Home that the end was now near for Irene. Cindy, we have to head back to the Cape; I said. She was such a sweet and gracious woman. When I arrived members of the staff were gathering around to comfort her. I said the Prayers at the time of death. And then I sang to her in her ear. She was far gone, but remember this dear friends; the hearing is the last to go so watch what you say in those last sacred moments. I sang to her; "Jesus loves me this I know". 

Ultimately my friends this is what Palm Sunday is all about. Yes it is about the suffering and the death of Jesus. It is about the suffering and death of our loved ones and all others of the human family. But we are called to look beyond that which we can see in the observable world. We are called to guide one another to the Gate of Heaven. 

In the church calendar Palm Sunday is also known as “Passion Sunday”. The word “passion” in the liturgical context does not carry its contemporary or modern meaning. The word “passion” comes from the Latin “passio” and refers to the Suffering of Jesus. 

This is what we have just witnessed in this Passion Narrative. We are continuing witnesses to the suffering of Jesus. But not just his suffering but all human suffering. Even now, too many of our friends and loved ones suffer. Children have had unspeakable suffering inflicted upon them in warfare as you know all too well. Chemical warfare and then driven from their homes they become refugees, unwanted in their own country or anywhere else for that matter. Human suffering is all too much a part of everyday life. We see more of it than anyone would ever want to see. Our mission in life as a people of faith is to lessen this suffering. It is to organize our life as a church around that suffering and to become the healing presence of Jesus on behalf of all.

This is what brings us to the Highest Holy Days of the Christian year. The suffering and death of Jesus. The suffering and death of many many more. But what makes these sacred and holy days the heart of our faith is that the sin, violence, and death of all these innocent is not the final fact of our existence. 

Underneath all this suffering and sorrow is the Victory of Jesus over all sin and death. The reality of warfare, violence, prejudice, hatred, bigotry, bullying in all its forms may seem like the final word in all of life. But God has the final word my friends. And in our Gospel proclamation that word is Jesus. In just a few short days we will gather back here in our church, Christians the world over will gather in their churches and there will be a celebration of joy such as can hardly be described. 

Think of it for just a moment. We begin Holy Week today as we read the Passion Narrative. Maundy Thursday we will gather and remember that the night before Jesus died for his friends, he washed our feet to remind us that we are to serve one another as he served us. He gives us a new commandment; love one another. NO EXCEPTIONS!!! He breaks bread blesses wine and in sharing this sacrament he declares that his living body will always be within and among us. Then Good Friday we will rehearse the trial and the execution, the death and burial. Because we are to remember that as his resurrection is real, so is his death and burial. Holy Saturday at the Great Vigil of Easter we kindle the Holy Flame, and from the darkest moments of our despair we will light that one candle that reminds us that the hope of God is never fully extinguished, even in the very darkest moments of our life. Then Easter Sunday we celebrate the Risen Jesus and his power over sin and death. The great question of our faith when we face the reality of Sin and Deaht is not who do we blame or who do we hate. The question is who do we forgive and who do we love. How to we find our way toward Peace, Reconciliation and Justice with Freedom for all. 

The memory of Palm Sunday is indelibly imprinted in my memory because it was on this day in 1978 that I proposed to Cindy at the old Cafe Budapest in the Copley Square Hotel. I had Beef Stroganoff, and ordered a fine Hungarian wine; “Egri Bikaver” it was called; and translated; “Bull’s Blood”. There was a violin, a lovely bud vase with a red rose, and then I posed the question! She said yes, believe it or not and here we are all these years later.

How appropriate now that I think about it. My life, your life is about God's love for you. Your love for one another. It is about the Triumph of the Cross of Christ over all that sin and death can do. We are all called to point one another to the Gate of Heaven and not just at the moment of death but at the most joyous moments of our life as well and everything in between. From the day of our engagement to now there has been a great deal of life including three children and a dozen churches. That's a lot of life. I've seen my share of joy and sadness. But the long and short of it is that the whole of my life and yours is an invitation to see the love of God because it it through that love that we come to the Gate of Heaven. This is the Alpha and the Omega of our Life. This is who Jesus is to me. The Alpha and the Omega; the beginning and the ending of my life.

In the Name of God; the Most Holy, Undivided and Everlasting Trinity.

Amen

Fr Paul

What Wondrous Love!

A meditation for Holy Week. History is what history does as Forest Gump might probably say. Look what it did to Jesus. Now look what it did to folks in Belgium. History goes on. In the very midst of history there is Jesus and the Wondrous Love of God.

What Wondrous Love is This!

What Wondrous Love!

The Passion Narrative tells the story of one of the most poignant moments in the Christian Year. We are all familiar with the reality the Cross points us toward. At one point or another we've all been there. We've all done that. If you haven't yet. You will. No one escapes the inevitable.

Our share in the suffering of Jesus on the cross; is it about fear and terror? Or is it rather about God's Wondrous Love and the gift of faith?

The Passion Narrative explores the emotional, physical, and spiritual exhaustion of the Disciples at the very moment that Jesus found himself in the constancy of prayer. Yes, I know about that. 

There is the abandonment Jesus experienced as the Disciples distanced themselves from the dangers that Jesus faced with the authorities. Yes, we know about that. 

Who of us wants to deal with the ugliness of hate and arrogance which now is so prevalent in our public life? Many of us are just quiet about it, since if we say anything, we'll only make matters worse. 

Then there is the blaming of those we consider the guilty parties. God knows that there are portions of the Church who have done enough of that down through the ages. Recently at a basketball game in suburban Boston a jeering crowd was       all too willing to blame Jewish kids for the crucifixion of Jesus. Oh for God's sake!

The Passion Narrative moves us in profound ways, because, in one way or another we share in the suffering of Jesus at one time or another in life. As we embrace our share in that suffering, allow me to invite you to embrace the reality of Christ's suffering not so much with the terrors that suffering of necessity inspires, but with yet another dimension; the dimension of faith. How shall we find anything redemptive in the suffering we face for ourselves or others?

Allow me to suggest, if I might, the notion of that Wondrous Love we know not only as God makes vividly clear in Jesus, but in the lives of our loved ones as well as ourselves.

Forgive me if you've heard me tell this story before, but I need to tell it from time to time for the benefit of my own soul's health.

Many years ago, I was summoned to the bedside of a woman from the Church of Mar Thoma. At the time I didn't even know what the Church of Mar Thoma was. It was only later I learned that we, the Episcopal Chruch share full communion with this Church reputed to have been founded by St. Thomas, Apostle to the Church in South India. Whether all that is true or not was hardly the point at the time. 

I was a priest. I got the call and off I went to the hospital. The room was filled with family. They were all from Madras in South India. I was introduced to the mother. When she saw me her eyes were filled with the recognition of what was happening. It was a look I shall never forget. I was relatively new to all this at the time.

But that family taught me something that has helped me ever since. They kept the vigil with their mom. They read favorite and familiar passages of scripture and psalms to comfort their mother. They sang familiar  children's hymns such as she had taught them when they were all young. As she loved her children when she dandled them upon her knee, so now the children loved their mother many years later in a hospital room as the inescapable and inevitable moment approached. 

The eldest brother explained to me that their mom and dad had impressed upon the children the importance of education. Now all grown, the children were doctors, executives, educators and professionals of various sorts in America and the dreams of the parents were now fulfilled by the children in a hospital room in the near suburban Cleveland city of Euclid, Ohio. 

As the end approached, I read the service from the Book of Common Prayer; "Ministration at the Time of Death".

When the moment came, the eldest daughter exclaimed something I shall never forget; "Look, there goes Momee into heaven!" At that moment the brothers, sisters, family and friends all looked up into heaven as if it were suspended somewhere over the mother's bed, there was a paroxysm of grief. They embraced one another and such was the relief and the love in that room that I found myself filled with faith in a way that I had seldom experienced it before. 

What Wondrous Love is This!

To be filled with such faith at a moment like this is come to understand our Share in the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ that even when we feel physically, emotionally and spiritually exhausted, or alone and abandoned, or even angry perhaps with guilt, fear or horror, above all of these realities, we share in the suffering of Jesus on the cross and there is this Wondrous Love that triumphs over all.

Such is the Mystery of Passion Sunday and the Events of Holy Week. We know that this is not defeat, that "our lives are not set in a night of gloom but amid the splendors of God's everlasting day."

What Wondrous Love is This indeed! 

In the Name of God, the most holy, undivided, and everlasting Trinity. 

Amen.

Fr Paul