Answers

Life often seems to give answers in silence.  Ask any question of the sea and the sound you hear in response will be quite similar to the time before the question.  Stand tall in the Redwoods, let the sound of your voice give reality to the angst of your wonder; the echo quickly dies and is replace by the serenity and peace of sun light dancing on dust.  In the moment just after a collision of two man-made objects it is as if nature pauses in silence, sharing reflection on what was and is now.  Every answer is profoundly natural and in its own way, silent.
 
I don’t want silence to be the answer to my questions.  I want noise, sounds, and words to give voice in counter point to my pain and anguish.  I want resolution!  I want something to happen differently than in the moments leading to and through my wonder. 
 
Some questions demand answers.  In a state of fear and wonder the Roman governor of the time, Pilate, came back “into the palace and said to Jesus, ‘here did you come from?’
 
Jesus gave no answer.” (John 19.9
 
This was an answer as natural as nature itself.
 
If someone, anyone in Pilate’s day was listening they would have already known the answers.  They had been given in action, steps on a journey, and dialogue.  I wonder if I fully appreciate how pointless a response is when the “truth” has already been written.  What would my life or voice say to the following questions?
 
Do you believe in compassion?
Do you believe in mercy?
Do you aspire to be unconditionally accepting?
Are you in love?
 
Even in the silence as I write these words I know my voice is pointless.  My life is already telling a story with the answers to these questions and more.  Yet the answer is so far incomplete because my story is not over.  Today, as the sun comes up over the East River, I have a chance to write my latest answer.  Wherever you are, you do as well.