Words are not always a blessing

Brother Jerome Leo (RIP )’s understated remark, “Words are not always a blessing,” refers to Saint Benedict’s sixth chapter, The Spirit of Silence. His comment evokes a wry smile of recognition. The Benedictine monk makes us pause at the truth in the fifteen-hundred-year-old words:

Let us do what the Prophet says: “I said, ‘I will guard my ways that I may not sin with my tongue. I have set a guard to my mouth…’ I was mute and was humbled, and kept silence even from good things” (Ps.38:2-3). Here the Prophet shows that if the spirit of silence ought to lead us at times to refrain even from good speech, so much the more ought the punishment for sin make us avoid evil words.

In our culture of endless rights, the notion of ‘sinning with our tongues’ sounds so fifth-century as to be laughable. But yet if we consider the content we hear, say, and think, the words of Saint James take on breadth and heft.

Consider how small a fire can set a huge forest ablaze.
The tongue is also a fire.
It exists among our members as a world of malice,
defiling the whole body
and setting the entire course of our lives on fire,
itself set on fire by Gehenna.
For every kind of beast and bird, of reptile and sea creature,
can be tamed and has been tamed by the human species

Even the most discerning of us get seduced by gossip often presented as news. We get drawn into the judgment of others’ sins. And so are insidiously drawn away our own sin and distance ourselves from Christ. We do this unconsciously, without thinking. Hence, Saint Benedict exhorts us to refrain even from good speech to avoid evil.

This phrase, a spirit of silence, renews itself, offering help in this exhausting battle of self-control. Jesus has not left us without an aid to do the impossible. To love without exclusion, as he loves us, we’re given the Advocate, the Holy Spirit.

Our Lady of Silence

I can’t resist a smile of recognition at the sign Pope Francis hung on his office door two summers ago. “No complaining allowed!” Even before my conversion to Catholic Christianity, I detested gossip. This is true because, finally, at nineteen or twenty, I realized that my mother’s habit of gossiping about my two older sisters with me would recur when she was alone with them. Of course, she would criticize me and my decisions the way she did theirs!

Roll the clock forward a few decades. When my career took off and I became a manager and an administrator, I had a rule when a manager began complaining about another: “You’re talking about Sally.” Then I’d point to an empty chair. “Only when she’s sitting there can we talk about her.”

If I’d thought of it, I would have hung a similar sign as Pope Francis, “No Complaining Allowed!” True because some believe it is their role to point out problems, as if the person sitting in the chair of responsibility can wave a wand. Or more accurately, they like to complain.

“Near the elevators people take to reach the papal study or meeting halls, the pope hung a copy of the icon of Our Lady of Silence — an image of Mary with her index finger poised gently in front of her closed lips.

“Just think how many Marian icons he gets (as gifts) and he decides to put this one there” as well as a smaller copy of one on his desk, said Capuchin Father Emiliano Antenucci, who commissioned the icon and gave a copy to the pope. The preferential treatment, the priest told Catholic News Service, shows the pope’s deep understanding of the importance of holy and humble silence.”

Into the Deep: Our Lady of Silence

As we head into ordinary time,

we do well to pray to the Spirit of Silence, that next week at Pentecost, we receive the gifts that only God’s Spirit can give.

Saint Benedict is challenging us. With his specific examples, the precise details of instructions, the master explains that a spirit of silence is a gift, even perhaps a virtue. Obtained by strict self-control, a focus away from self and toward the other, external noise can fade into oblivion when we cloak ourselves with a spirit of silence.

Emphatically, Saint Benedict writes to refrain “even from good speech.” Therefore, we must resist our temptation to pass on the latest terrifying news about….whatever. We fully know the damage ‘bad speech’ or writing can cause.

It’s Ascension Sunday.

Jesus tells the Apostles and us that we should rejoice. He is going to the Father and will ask him to send us the Spirit.

In the Bible, a cloud is not just something to do with the weather…[T]he Ascension cloud recalls the cloud that covered the Mount of Transfiguration, from which, Luke tells us, the Father’s voice announced, This is my beloved Son. It also points forward to the Lord’s definitive coming at the end of time. Again Luke gives us the very words of Jesus: Speaking of tribulations to come, he assures the
disciples that they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. The cloud will announce that the fullness of time is at hand.

On Ascension Day, Christ does not disappear beyond earth’s orbit. He enters the glory of the Father whereof the earth is full. He effectively fulfills his promise not to leave us orphans. To apprehend this new mode of Jesus’ presence among us, special grace is called for. We need the Consoler, the Caller-to-mind, who will be our source of strength. Christ promises to send him soon. Throughout
Eastertide we have verified that what he says is sure. This word, too, will be fulfilled. Like the apostles, then, let us savor Christ’s Ascension full of joy, waiting with eager expectation for the Father’s promise at Pentecost.

Bishop Erik Varden

El Greco’s Ascension of Jesus