Sometimes speaking, or holding one’s tongue, can make the difference. All the difference. For life and death.
Many in authority today are silent when they should not be. Through weakness. And the consequences are devastating. Broken communities, broken businesses, broken homes, broken lives. Broken love. This because in various contexts we do not courageously and selflessly take up the authority we’ve been given. And its real absence is telling. The silence of this absence is not only deafening; sometimes it kills.
But well-exercised authority is also often silent. In its strength. True authority envelops those under it in love, nurturing and healing. Its occasional silence is one of presence, not absence, simultaneously gentle and strong. The words of this authority, stemming as they do from a wisdom born of patience and love, are powerful, their guiding power enduring after speech has faded. The words of authority reverberate and take root in this silence, giving life.
Photo: This is Pavlo Konenko, my wife’s great-granfather. Born in the western Ukrainian town of Vikno in the 1880’s, he became the beloved schoolmaster of the village of Korszylowka, which in the early 1900’s was part of the Austrian empire. He was known, among other things, for his gentle love, and his teaching the people how to graft and cultivate apple trees. After the First World War Ukraine enjoyed a brief period of independence. At the approach of the Second World War Poland asserted control over western Ukraine. Authorities visited Pavlo and handing him an unsigned petition commanded him to produce signatures from his villagers requesting to be taught in Polish. But the villagers did not want to be taught in Polish, and so Pavlo would not comply. As a result, he was sent to a concentration camp in Byelorussia, also under Polish rule. After his release, Pavlo never fully recovered, and he died in 1944. Polish rule having been followed by Nazi rule and then finally Russian reinvasion, Pavlo’s daughter Myroslawa and son-in-law Bohdan, with their two young daughters, were able to avoid the approaching communists by leaving with the Germans, ending up in Salzburg. Later Salzburg was liberated by the Americans, and Myroslawa and Bohdan had the opportunity to emigrate to America. Early in the 2000’s Myroslava and Bohdan’s grandson Alexander returned to what was Korszylowka. There he found that the people still hold dear the memory of their beloved schoolmaster Pavlo, four generations later.
Vichnaya pamyat. May his memory be eternal.
Husband, father, and professor of Philosophy. LifeCraft springs from one conviction: there is an ancient wisdom about how to live the good life in our homes, with our families; and it is worth our time to hearken to it. Let’s rediscover it together. Learn more.
What a beautiful entry–especially on St. Joseph’s day, Joseph being “quasi patrem regis” and as such a model of silent, effective authority.
A touching story. But the spirit and wisdom of Pavlo seem to have been inherited by the Cuddeback family. God had His hand in it all.
Beautiful. I pray that I have the fortitude stand up for my convictions against the government, if that time comes, even if it costs me my life.
Beautiful, and inspiring.
Thank you for each of these generous and encouraging comments. I know that Dido (Grandpa) Pavlo has been the source of many blessings for my family.
We were very moved by this tribute to Dido Pavlo Konenko. Your title” The Silence of Authority” is very timely and appropriate for this time–esp. as people in Ukraine are still trying to stand up for their national and personal rights. –and bravely do so by risking their lives .
What dignity and strength in Dido Pavlo’s convictions , and in holding to them, even though it cost him his life.
Would that we would all be so brave and strong–
John, your prefacing paragraphs are eloquent and, full of wisdom and love.
Thank you for this
Teta Chrystia I Vuyko Stefko