Mtr Mary Trainor

Meet the Louds

Dear friend,

Years ago, a good friend of mine occasionally—but with some regularity—referred to her nextdoor neighbors as the Louds:

“The Louds are gone this weekend.”“
The Louds got a new dog.”
“The Louds had a big Super Bowl party.”

When your words are gentle and true, when your language is careful and loving…*

This being Super Bowl weekend, the Louds come to mind. I have to confess, though, years went by before I learned that this family’s surname was not “Loud.” My friend named them that because they WERE loud.

I grew up in a loud home, mostly because my mother had a severe hearing loss starting in her mid-thirties. We also lived on a four-lane divided highway, a main drag connecting a rock quarry and an interstate. Gravel trucks went past on a regular basis. Another reason our world was loud.

Despite my experience with loud surroundings, loud situations generally disturb me, especially since “loud” and “angry” so often go together.

… when your voice is calm and comforting: then you are speaking in the way of heaven.

In the office Gospel today from John, Jesus is verbally jousting with opponents who accuse him of having a demon and of being a Samaritan. And more.

We are in the middle of continuing exchanges between Jesus and his detractors—and I imagine these are very loud exchanges.

Our ability to communicate is a miracle, a gift beyond measure…

I have often wondered why I get so stressed when reading this section of John. Until I realize both its tone and volume are high-pitched. And I turn away.

When we use that gift as it was intended, we heal the world of its hurts, one word at a time.

Mtr Mary

*Steven Charleston, retired Episcopal Bishop of Alaska; erstwhile Dean of Episcopal Divinity School; and Native American Elder.