The Beatles’ “Let It Be” floats out of the little CD player in the corner this morning, Paul McCartney crooning out:

When I find myself in times of trouble,
Mother Mary comes to me,
Speaking words of wisdom,
Let it be.

And in my hour of darkness,
She is standing right in front of me,
Speaking words of wisdom,
Let it be.

It took me many years to become aware that not everyone grew up with as much respect for the Beatles as I did. For indeed, among the defining characteristics that made us Rices Rices was a love for the music of John, Paul, George and Ringo. Only a Beatles song on the radio station could end the incessant fighting between my sister and myself for dominion of the radio dial. My dad and I spent hours together making Beatles mix tapes for my friends, tailoring the selections to their personality traits (more bubbly types would like “Eight Days a Week,” while your introverts might have a taste for “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.”).

And the John Lennon track “Grow Old With Me” will make an appearance in my otherwise thoroughly religious and classical wedding.

I’ve heard various things about the song “Let It Be,” from the 1970 album of the same name—that it is an ode to the Virgin Mary (according to Wikipedia, songwriter McCartney was baptized Catholic), that it has something to do with McCartney’s mom, etc. You can argue both—officially, the song was written as a tribute to McCartney’s mother Mary, who died when he was 14 years old. The chorus, however, does seem to allude to Luke 1:38: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

Perhaps the reason this song struck me this morning related to its words of peace—the peace that the Virgin Mary expresses in her answer to the Angel Gabriel, the peace that Christ speaks as he appears among the disciples after the Resurrection. It is this peace, this consoling wisdom, which touched me.

As Ecclesiastes says, there is a time for everything under heaven—a time to break down and a time to build up, a time to keep silent and a time to speak. In NNPCW, we often focus on speaking out, on acting, on standing up. And yet, wisdom sometimes calls us to let it be, to watch silently, to wait, to hold our tongues for a time instead of lashing out in anger.

We’re still waiting, here at the Center. The General Assembly Council arrives in town today to approve the final mission budget. We all know that for many of our friends and colleagues, this will be their last week in PresbyLand.

Some of you might have the same sense of dread and anticipation, whether that regards impending final exams or something more serious.

None of us know what the future will bring.

So we return to Mother Mary’s words in the song and let it be, desperately trusting that the God who loves us unconditionally will walk beside us to the end. Or perhaps we return to an older source for our words of wisdom.

“A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion, and they woke him up and said to him, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’ He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. He said to them, ‘Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?’” --Mark 4:37-40

Kelsey