Every few months as a member of the local clergy I am invited to write a guest column for The Salem News. The tradition has carried on for years. I and my colleagues have truly enjoyed this privilege. Yet, recently, when my turn to write arrives, my feelings shift from anticipation to foreboding.
We live in a moment that is so charged with division, resentment, and blatant confusion. Anyone who is asked to say anything publicly runs the risk of sparking increased conflict, and derision.
My first impulse is to remain silent. Maybe I can even cheat and miss my deadline to avoid publication. But this is a rejection of my vows and vocational responsibility.
Of course I can dodge anything topical and simply stick to happy chat, such as why this is such a good summer for my perennials.
It seems my psyche — which I consider a gateway to the divine — has other ideas. Last night I fell asleep wrestling with the temptation to skip the article altogether. In my dreams, a powerful event occurred. After going through lots of fearful struggles, which I can only describe as a nightmare, a vivid moment occurred. Pope Francis came to me. We recognized one another as friends, and he reached out to give me a hug. I, of course, hugged him back, when suddenly I intuitively knew he wanted to be hugged very tightly in a comforting way. So I squeezed with true affection and a confident firmness. Suddenly, he burst into tears in my arms and wept. A friend of many years stood nearby in the dream and looked with a fascination at this moment.
Francis then loosened the hug, stepped back and smiled with that universal joy he had in life. I stared at him, humbled that I could do anything for his pain and burden.
Then unable to speak to my friend or anyone else, I woke up.
The message for me is clear. Despite this time of increasing violence and separation, all of us human beings live bound together by our sorrow and pain. We are all one, made whole by a mystical and mutual suffering. We all want kindness and generosity to prevail. That is what makes us an international community — a global human family.
Even though the institutions to help maintain our connections are breaking down, our hearts are even more joined by a deeper common compassion.
This morning, my wife, who is Roman Catholic, shared with me what happened at her Sunday Mass in Gloucester.
Her priest, Father Jim, announced an offering was to be taken for the victims of the destruction and death that just happened at the only Catholic church in Gaza. It turns out to be a church of the same name as the Gloucester Parish — Saint Anne’s. It struck my wife Jeanne with a bolt that we are not far from one another in this earthly life. No amount of lies and violence and deception can ever change that. Indeed, because of the emerging violence, we are now closer together than ever.
My simple encouragement for myself and everyone is we need to own this relationship with a new courage and determination for the cause of love and forgiveness.
Please consider this a hug for everybody in this time of our collective sorrow.
Blessings to everyone.
The Rev. Tom Bentley is the pastor at Centre Congregational Church UCC in Lynnfield.