By REV. MARGUERITE SHEEHAN
Pastor, Trinity Church, Shelburne Falls
There is a small book placed right in the middle of the Bible. It is called Ecclesiastics. The title comes from a Hebrew word which is loosely translated as “teacher.” My study Bible contends that this teacher is aware that even the best in life is limited in knowledge, virtue and power, is troubled by evil and injustice, and ultimately ends in death. In spite of death and the “vanity” of life, the teacher repeatedly urges us to embrace life as a gift from God.
Chapter 4 of Ecclesiastes begins with this verse “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven … a time to keep silence and a time to speak.”
Since the horrific mass killings at the Pulse Nightclub in Orlando, Fla., I have felt a need to keep silent. There is little that I can say with any confidence that can stand up to the loss of life and the hopes and dreams of these dancing gay and lesbian, bisexual, transgender, intersex, queer, and profoundly beautiful sisters and brothers. Many of the words that I have heard this week have been more disturbing and troubling than helpful. I have held my silence, as Job’s friends did when faced with the unthinkable suffering that their friend endured. There is a time to keep silence.
There is a time to speak. I am a gay pastor serving a small congregation in Shelburne Falls. We are far away from Orlando but the world is small. Our daughter went to middle school with a friend of the bouncer who was killed at the nightclub. Both my wife and I came out during the time that a few late night clubs, some tucked-away book stores, and friends’ apartments were the only places that we found any sanctuary from homophobic attacks. When we heard about the murders in Orlando this week we remembered those days and were shaken with the truth that there was and is no safe place for marginal people. There is no hiding place and we are long done with trying to hide.
Once we start speaking, there is so much to say. I was moved to tears this week when some members of my congregation called to tell me that we are in their prayers. I was taken by surprise when I stopped at a local coffee shop and read a sign at the check-out. The sign said something like “Love is Love.” One hundred percent of the proceeds of sales for the entire week is going to be sent to Florida for the victims’ families. I drove out of town and saw a rainbow flag on the house of a heterosexual couple who understand how important it is to stand out for love. I am grateful that our President called for the United States flag to be at half-mast.
I finally found my voice to gather my community in Shelburne Falls to witness to those dear loved ones that we have not met and will never forget. We lit one candle and called out the names of all those who died on that day.
This is one of those profound times when we allow silence to grow and out of silence we speak love into the frightened, shocked and grieving world. This is a time for everyone who cares to name what is happening and to risk being seen and heard. As those young adults danced through the night that became a night of terror, we will stand and proclaim that hatred and violence have no place in our world. We will do everything in our power to turn toward the love that knows each of us by name. This love that wipes away the tears from our all faces.
There is a time for silence. There is a time to speak. Not again. No more. No.