The church’s tears
For several years I have had some unforgettable acquaintances. Of course, I have not known them personally. We never hung out together. After all, they did live in Egypt some sixteen centuries ago.
They could also have been a little hard to understand. They seemed to have been a peculiarly solemn lot. Completely clueless when it came to small talk, off the chart introverts, they nevertheless had something we often lack. As I read through their interactions with one another again and again, I can sense a deeper stillness than we normally know. They had a very low, unprovokable center of gravity.
I have spent so much time reading through The Sayings of the Desert Fathers (London: Mowbrays, 1975) that I feel that I actually do know them in some mysterious way. In fact, as odd as it sounds, I know them so well that in their most personal moments I can feel their tears falling through their prayers.