Answer Me

Mark 11:27-33

My mother used to say that to me when I’d gotten into trouble for something. Also, “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

In all the readings for today, the phrase, "Answer me!" is the only thing that stood out, except for “my young women and my young men have gone into captivity.” (Lamentations)

Holy Week is always a tough time for me, and now it’s even more so with all services canceled and everyone in self-imposed ‘captivity.’

I keep reminding myself that going to church is not what this Way of ours is about. Most of the time, church seemed to me to be nothing more than a social club, and for me, that interfered with the silence and awe that God’s Presence evokes. It seemed obvious to me that all of our chattering and noise; our bustling about; our laughter and shouts of greeting across the sanctuary were evidence that we were not paying attention to God.

Now, I think I was just being stuffy. Now, I’ve been to a synagogue and it was there I saw how God was included in the laughter and the friendliness; the unabashed congeniality; the cheerful reverence. It changed my ideas. Not that I’ve stopped being a hermit and a solitary soul, but now I understand that it isn’t necessary to be an introvert or a contemplative in order to engage with God.

There is this, though:  my long acquaintance with silence and isolation might just be of some use to other people in these hard times. It has to do with what is necessary or needful, and what isn’t. We don’t need to be together to have God be present among us. I sense that we are all realizing that, now.

In the midst of loss and trouble, we can’t help but notice that after everything we thought was important has been stripped away, there is Something left. Something that can’t be taken away. Something that isn’t afraid. Something that never stops saying, “Answer Me.”

In the midst of loneliness and fear, we are brought to a standstill by our own trust and courage, and we can’t help but notice that in this space of endings and uncertainty, something unassailable exists. We are somehow certain that it has existed for all time, and that it is completely reliable.

In the midst of weakness and vulnerability, we understand that it’s not about us. We find a kernel of reality that has survived all our disillusionment, and still remains. We realize that this survivor within us is no other than the Presence of God. We recognize ourselves reflected in it.

This recognition comes about by means of Love, and once we’ve acknowledged it, then our eyes are opened. We know it’s not necessary to be happy, or to be safe. So much that we thought was required turns out to be unnecessary.

It’s a vast and unfathomable absence; this space that holds all that we’ve lost. 

This absence; this wide-open space; manifests itself within us, and it’s then that we behold:

This Void is filled from end to end, and top to bottom, with the Presence of God, and the silent demand:

“Answer Me.”