Thursday, November 5, 2020
The Rev. Nathaniel Bourne
Meaning in the Waiting
Kneeling
By R.S. ThomasMoments of great calm,
Kneeling before an altar
Of wood in a stone church
In summer, waiting for the God
To speak; the air a staircase
For silence; the sun’s light
Ringing me, as though I acted
A great role. And the audiences
Still; all that close throng
Of spirits waiting, as I,
For the message.
Prompt me, God;
But not yet. When I speak,
Though it be you who speak
Through me, something is lost.
The meaning is in the waiting.
We are in a moment of waiting – waiting for the gray of electoral maps to turn blue or red, waiting for clarity about what the next four years will look like, waiting for uncertainty to give way to something known. I don’t know that my waiting is quite some calm as the waiting in Thomas’s poem, nor so holy. But I wonder what the meaning in it might be.
The gospels are full of moments of waiting. This Sunday we’ll hear a parable about bridesmaids waiting for the bridegroom. Elizabeth and Mary eagerly await the birth of their children. The disciples are constantly waiting for Jesus to show up, to make his way through the crowd, or for him to give them some sign. But the moment of waiting I identify most with today is the waiting of Holy Saturday. Jesus is in the tomb, and the disciples are left wondering what comes next. How will they move forward? How do they make sense of everything that happened in the past few days? What is their role in the future that awaits them? How will they live out their faith when so much has changed? Where is God in the midst of all this? I’m starting to ask myself the same questions. For now, the answers aren’t clear. But the waiting remains.
Prompt me, God;
But not yet. When I speak,
Though it be you who speak
Through me, something is lost.
The meaning is in the waiting.