I want to write today. I want to share the thoughts and feelings coming up for me as we approach Holy Week. But nothing I think of seems right. Or it seems premature. I want to write to you about Mary of Bethany anointing Jesus' feet, giving him an example that he will share with his other disciples. But it's not time. That lesson comes next Monday. Tonight I will talk with a church group about Mary Magdalene, about her time in the garden with Jesus. But I don't want to go there yet.
In this last week of Lent it's as though the world is holding its breath. Next week, with Holy Week, the action comes daily, with increasing drama and speed, until we rest again on Holy Saturday. But this week is quiet, expectant.
Thomas Merton wrote of the danger of trying to share the experience of God with others. Contemplation leads us to want to share the joy and peace we find, but in sharing that enthusiasm we can "become absorbed in the business of communicating something that is practically incommunicable" and so risk "being drawn away from the simple light and silence in which God is known without words and concepts." Our very attempt to share can lead us betray what we have received.
So I will end my attempt to find something meaningful to say. I will try to sit at the feet of Jesus, and let my silence speak to you of God. May you glimpse the one who gives you life and love this week. May you breathe in the sound of silence.
