One of the signs of wisdom is that a person can know or recognize a truth, without having to say it to a person or group who cannot, or will not listen. They simply know it.
My middle sister, Helen, exhibits this kind of wisdom when we are together in the kitchen fixing a meal. She knows that I have a vision in mind of how a meal needs to come together and that I will get wound tight and snippy, if I am running behind. She gives me a wide berth, not leaving the kitchen, but not getting in my path. She knows that my anxiety is not necessary; she also knows that if she says anything to me about it, I will deny it or blow up at her (I am the big sister).
One can know and not say.
This Sunday we begin the walk through Holy Week, starting with Jesus as he enters Jerusalem triumphantly. The crowds who greet him are eager for liberation and spectacle. The politicians are leery of insurrection. The religious authorities are desparate to maintain the status quo and an uneasy peace with Rome.
Jesus knows that this is no triumph. It is his death march. He knows, but he does not say. From the entry, to the Temple, to the Cenacle (as a child, it is the upper room), to the garden of Gethsemane, to Caiaphus’ house, to Pilate’s palace, to Golgotha, Jesus knows and is mostly silent. The wisdom of the Passion is in the loving actions, not the words.
Let those with eyes see. Let those with ears hear.
The Reverend Lisa Hunt, Rector