Pentecost V - and a Baptism

When should we speak, and when should we keep silent?

Is it better to give words to what is mysterious, and thus delimit it a bit, ...or is it better to remain in silence, or describe something by what it is not?

Our somewhat continuous reading in Mark's Gospel this week offers a story that has both of these aspects of Christian spirituality present.

Fancy words: kataphatic theology and apophatic theology. Kataphatic means to affirm, to 'say with', to give words to experience of the divine, and the mystery beyond language. It comes - of course! - from a Greek word meaning to affirm! Apophatic means to refrain, to 'say away,' to negate. Or, ultimately, as Ludwig Wittgenstein famously put it: whereof one cannot speak, thereof one ought to remain silent!

Whole traditions of prayer have evolved over the millennia in Christian and other religious traditions embracing both of these paths.

Tomorrow in particular, we get kataphatic for Baptism! We will use a lot of the words of our tradition -- in prayer, in covenant, in ritual speech. We will 'say with' the tradition in our using of words like Satan, evil, grace, love... Jesus spoke kataphatically when he told the people that God's name is best known as 'love.' I'm glad that he didn't make a longer list, as this is a good word to use if one is going to begin to delimit the mystery of Being, itself. Yes, the Mystery is Love, but not as we immediately understand 'love.' (There: I have begun to speak apophatically -- what something is not.)

God is love, but God is not 'love,' and no listing of attributes would ever encapsulate the divine mystery.

No description would exhaust the meaning of what we do when we gather around water and baptize, or around the holy table and bless and share food. We 'become the Body of Christ,' yes - and, amen, I affirm kataphatically! But, what does this mean?

An apophatic stance toward much of our received tradition can be healthy -- be not quick to assume that we have exhausted understanding, meaning, or truth. This encourages humility, which is a primary grace offered by apophatic prayer: prayer of silent communion with the mystery, guided by as few words as possible.

Yet it is also good to speak. To tell of God's redemptive power, God's desire for justice (though exceeding our list-based understanding of 'justice,' certainly), God's ultimate desire - our tradition tells us, affirmatively, kataphatically - is for articulated fullness of Being, for abundant life for all creatures of God. Including us, but also including the waters, the birds, the soil, the atmosphere, this planet, and the cosmos beyond our delimiting. God's speaking, our tradition tells the story, has spoken the cosmos into Being.

Jesus heals two people in today's Gospel. The first is a woman who has suffered for twelve years from a condition that has also rendered her an outcast, keeping her ritually impure, untouchable. The second is the daughter of a prominent member of the synagogue, and an important person in local society.

There's a lot in these two healings, sandwiched together as they are. Yet, I was struck by the two different responses Jesus seems to initiate. The woman who is publicly healed after being outcast for twelve years is encouraged to speak. She is asked to use her voice, in public, so that all may see that she is healed. Her dignity is restored to her by the use of her voice. And, Jesus initiates this - even requires it. The young girl from a prominent family is given something to eat - the healing is real, not for show - but the family is encouraged to say nothing. There will be no using of this healing of a prominent person to gain status - for either the family or PR for Jesus. Whereof one cannot speak -- for who can describe what has happened? -- it is holy, good, and truthful simply to remain silent.

Sometimes our voices are called for, and called forth -- and speech can be holy, particularly when it restores the dignity of others in the sight of the community. I think of this weekend being Pride weekend in New York and elsewhere. Millions of people were prompted to use their voices, and claimed their dignity in the sight of the community. This prompting was and is holy.

Use your voice to restore the dignity of every human being, of every creature of God, as our Baptismal Covenant puts it. Beginning with yourself.

And, then, practice holy silence. Meet with a wordless awe the beauty of your own existence, the beauty that anything 'is' at all, that we have love to give and breath to share, that we have One who has gone before us to show us the Way that leads beyond the fear caused by our mortality. Sit in awe of these things.

Paradoxically, come to know these mysteries in silence, and find yourself strengthened to speak when you need to. Come to know the mysteries by what they are not, and by what they are, beyond words.

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Focus on what matters — Pentecost VI

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Peace, be still — Pentecost IV