Worship & Wonder 18: Fulfilment

Easter Saturday: Fulfilment

Finally, in the most profound silence of his life, he died, believing himself forsaken by God.

Will anyone suggest that he simply was not listening?  I do not think so.  In the silence surrounding his death, Jesus became the best possible companion for those whose prayers are not answered, who would give anything just to hear God call them by name.  Him too.  He wanted that too, and he did not get it.  What he got, instead, was a fathomless silence in which to cry out.  Forever after, everyone who has heard him bellow has had to wonder: Is that the voice of God?

There is a story from the Sufi tradition about a man who cried, “Allah! Allah!” until his lips became sweet with the sound.  A skeptic who heard him said, “Well! I have heard you calling out, but where is the answer to your prayer?  Have you ever gotten a response?”  The man had no answer to that.  Sadly, he abandoned his prayers and went to sleep.  In his dreams he saw Khazir, the soul guide, walking toward him through a garden.

“Why did you stop praising?” the saint asked him.  “Because I never heard anything back,” the man said.  “This longing you voice is the return message,” Khazir told him.

The grief you cry out from

draws you toward union.

Your pure sadness

that wants help

is the secret cup.

Listen to the moan of a dog

for its master.

That whining is the connection.

There are love dogs 

no one knows the names of.

Give your life

to be one of them.

Only an idol always answers.  The God who keeps silence, even when God’s own flesh and blood is begging for a word, is the God beyond anyone’s control.  An answer will come, but not until the silence is complete.  And even then, the answer will be given in silence.  With the cross and the empty tomb, God has provided us with two events that defy all our efforts to domesticate them.  Before them, and before the God who is present in them, our most eloquent words turn to dust.

from 'When God is Silent’, Barbara Brown Taylor (quoting A.J. Arberry 'Tales from the Mansavi' combined with Rumi's poem 'Love dogs' translated by Coleman Barks)

cry out (Luke 19.40).  Canon 7d. f8. 1/60. ISO 3200.