This morning I got up at my usual time, made coffee for the retreatants and then did my morning Lectio. I went up to the abbey church a little early to sit. The church at this time has no sanctuary light, and the Eucharist is absent. I guess you would have to belong to a Christian denomination that places the Eucharist as central to their worship to understand what that would be like. Without the Eucharist, the abbey church felt like an empty shell, like a tomb, or like a dead body. Cold, silent and empty…as I sat there I thought of the seeming triumph of death over everything that exists. Of loss, and inner coldness and of the fear that many have of this reality we call death. Many say they do not fear death and at times I can say that as well….yet… in the end I think that is based on disassociation, for to think of ones non-existence as far as this world goes is probably impossible. For to think of ones death, is to observe it, while in reality it is an inner experience not an observation.
I thought of Jesus lying in his tomb, dark and empty, his body an empty shell. The silence of a tomb is absolute and permanent. It seemed so to his followers at the time of his death. So I entered the tomb and knelt at his side, embracing his cold shrouded body, heatless, heavy and empty of all life and thought of my loved ones who have died, of my ancestors and of all those that I have known over the years who have entered that silence. They were all there present with Jesus who took their death upon himself. We are all with Jesus in that tomb, for all of us will die.
Faith is not an escape from reality, but an embracing of it just as Christ Jesus did without being reduced to hatred, bitterness or a desire for revenge. Before he commended his spirit to the Father, he forgave all and in that forgiving we all have life if we want it, embrace it and allow God’s light to fill us.
In spite of faith, death is still cold, and our hearts feel empty when we lose a loved one, or see the horror that so many face at the time of their death. Jesus wept, loved, was hatred for his goodness and killed, and so at this time, those who believe in Christ wait at the tomb, in the coldness and darkness and utter silence, yet in hope. We await the “Third Day”, something those who lived with Christ, loved him and believed in him did not yet know. They did not have hope; they believe all was lost, just as we think when we face the death of those we love.
Things are not what they seem, for with the dawn comes rejoicing.
Br. Mark Dohle, OCSO
Holy Spirit Monastery
2016
