A GUIDED MEDITATION: THE PASSION OF MARK

A MEDITATION: MARK’S PASSION NARRATIVE There is a lot of silence in this story. Silence here in the church. In our hearts perhaps. And in the story itself. Some of you may remember the folk duo Simon and Garfunkel. They sang a song,”The Sound of Silence” maybe you remember it. To me this story is all about the sound of silence. And the other sounds as well—the ones that interrupted the silence. Close your eyes now. Sit back and let yourself hear the sounds: . . . of Jesus throwing himself on the ground in the Garden of Gethsemane. . . . of the disciples sleeping. Could they hear the sound of the crowd approaching with their clubs and swords? What did that sound like? Were Judas’ words spoken out loud or whispered? And, if you were standing near Jesus, could you hear the sound of that kiss? Did the slave cry out when his ear was cut off? And what was the sound of the false testimony given against Jesus? Did it ring hollow in your ears? What is the sound of taunting and spitting? Did Jesus cry out when he was beaten? And what about the sounds of Peter’s denials? Do they reverberate in your soul and mix there with your own denials? Peter curses. The cock crows. There are the long pauses after each of Pilate’s questions. The accusations fly. Jesus is silent. Can you actually hear Pilate’s amazement? How does stirring the crowd sound? Does it start like murmuring… how does it build? And the shouting of the crowd? Does it echo thru the streets? How far away can you hear it? Would you recognize the sound of flogging? What is the tone of mockery? Does Simon of Cyrene demur, or does he just silently pick up the cross and follow? The sounds of the crucifixion. . . .The derision. The taunting of the men crucified beside him, what in God’s name would that sound like? Jesus crying out those words from Psalm 22,”My God my God why have your forsaken me? Silence. The sour wine scooped up in the sponge on the stick. Can you hear its dripping? The loud cry. The final breath. Silence. These are the sounds of our own world. We know these sound--many of them. We hardly dare let ourselves hear them. Hardly dare let them into our hearts. Hardly do we dare to let them penetrate. Our ears are mostly covered or tuned to other frequencies. The sound of silence--The silence not really so much about God’s absence as God’s presence. God’s withness to the depths of life. The silence of one taking a breath just when you do. There is silence. The curtain of the temple torn in two. Can you hear the ripping? The rending. Silence. Torn apart. Opened up. God no longer hidden. The Holy of holies no longer sheltered and apart. No longer only for the high priest to enter. God among us. Torn apart. Ripped open. Silence. “Truly this man was God’s son.”