I’m
blessed to live in a really quiet part of the country. At night, on a calm
night, you can have the windows open and hear nothing except stillness. It’s
something to be treasured.
There are examples in The Bible of people seeking solitude and silence. The
prophet Elijah in Kings Chapter 19 was recovering from a period in his life
where he had been dashing around making prophecies; some of which were less
than popular. He had taken part in a terrifying dramatic incident where fire
rained down from heaven to repudiate the gods of Baal. He had been threatened
and fled for his life. He takes refuge in a cave and seeks solace from God. In
his contemplation he realises that God is not in dramatic happenings like fire
from heaven or winds or earthquakes, these are physical events, but God, he
discovers, speaks in a “still small voice” – as we sing in the famous hymn,
“the still, small voice of calm” – through the silence; a sound of “sheer
silence” it says the NRSV translation. Other
versions say a “gentle whisper”. I've also heard “the sound of slender
silence”, though I’m not sure who said this. It may have been me in a moment of
inspiration.
In
the Gospels Jesus seems to spend a good deal of time ministering to bustling crowds.
Even when he tries to get away we read that crowds of 5000 plus follow him. He
still ministers to them and feeds them. But at times even Jesus has had enough.
He needs time out and sends away his disciples, packing them off in a boat in
Matthew 14. He needs to recharge and meet with God alone. “He went up a
mountain to pray” it tells us. Like Moses, like Elijah and others he finds a
quiet place on his own to pray in solitude and silence. And of course we also
recall he spent 40 days on his own in the wilderness before his ministry
started.
It’s
said that we humans speak an average of 16 000 words per day, some of us more
than others; I did say average! I am aware that church liturgy is filled with
words and it has become commonplace for us to have music or hymns in all the
traditionally silent parts of our services. I recently went to a service advertised
as a contemporary service of praise and contemplation “with periods of silence”.
In fact there was no silence; even the periods for silent prayer were all filled
with music, someone praying aloud or someone telling me what to think and pray
about. This is one reason that I make a pause every now and then in services that
I am leading and leave a space to sit a dwell with God, to “be” with God and
listen. Life is filled with noise. “Noise pollution” is an accepted phrase on
the eco agenda – it’s sadly often true in our worship.
We
all say we want some peace and quiet, but then do we actually seek it out as
Elijah and Jesus did? I think we should.
But
being silent is hard for many people. There is the challenge firstly of putting
everything else aside, of clearing your mind, when there is no distraction of
music or the radio or TV to supress your thoughts. You know the feeling when
every time you try to stop and be still other things pour in – the shopping,
the jobs that need doing, concerns or plan that you have. Even the sheer effort
of trying to fight these thoughts off can disturb the stillness you’re trying
to achieve. There are strategies for dealing with them. One is to acknowledge
them and then consciously set them down one by one as you move into silence.
Affirm to yourself that you can deal with this or that later.
Another
issue with corporate silence is the fear that one’s own body may disturb it. I
have had embarrassing moments in silent vigils which are best not talked about!
Even one’s own heartbeat or breathing can be a source of distraction. They can be turned however into a way into
relaxation – listening to and using the gentle rhythm of your breathing,
consciously slowing it down. It takes time to be still.
Of
course silence also requires sound if you like. In order to appreciate silence
one has to stop the sound. We talk about free speech and conversation, both being
seen as good. Silence therefore requires oppression, I guess, as you have to
reject others’ talking by going away, like Jesus, or asking for quiet, and this
is an alien thought to some people, even seen as unsociable, rude and selfish. It’s
perverse; like many things noise impinges on those who want silence, but you
can’t impose silence on people who seek security in noise; noise dominates; it
always wins. It’s hard to champion silence in a world where sound is the norm. 20%
of people are sensitive, 20% highly sensitive and like quieter things, but 60%
haven’t a clue what they’re concerned about. The noisy majority, those addicted
to sound, don’t understand how they impact on the quieter ones; the sensitive
ones, in our community. Many of these won’t come to church or find it very hard,
because too much goes on in many services. The Quakers have something to offer
here.
I
know also for some silence equates to loneliness. I appreciate that many people
live alone. Conversation is company and even the radio is better than hours of
nothing. But in this context I’m thinking of a particular chosen silence,
deliberate silence, making space for God.
Other
people really seem to fear silence and avoid it; talking is a kind of defence
mechanism. I suspect the reason is, they fear if they stop, they might have to
listen and then they might just hear something they don’t want to hear, maybe it
will be God, a still small voice, speaking in their heart. Only if we face our
situation honestly, without hiding behind words, can God meet us where we are.
I
really would commend finding time for deliberate silence in the presence of
God, if you don’t already do so. For some it is easier than others. Incidentally,
you don’t have to do nothing; an activity may help you to avoid those
distracting thoughts. Anthony Bloom from the Russian Orthodox Church and Radio
Four contributor, advises us to “take your knitting and for fifteen minutes
knit before the face of God, but I forbid you to say one word of prayer”. Others
may find lighting a candle helps.
The
noisy storm outside in our world reflects the turbulence in our lives and in
our world, like the storm on the lake in the reading. The busy-ness of life
batters us; feelings of desperation overwhelm us and our faith is challenged or
simply side-lined by doing too much; it’s like Peter trying to walk on the
water, trying to stay on top; life is a moving active fluid. We try to do too
much on our own.
The
solution is to hold out our hands like Peter did and focus on the calmness and
stillness that Jesus offers; tranquility Jesus attained and nurtured by
spending time alone and in silence with his Father.
I’d
like to offer you two things.
One
is a short poem that I wrote.
Hush
the noise, still your breath,
Calm
the clamour of your lives.
Close
your eyes; open your ears,
Hear
the sound of slender silence speaking to your heart.
Amid
the blasts of life’s fierce storms,
Free
your mind of all care;
Quieten
your thoughts, open your mind and
Hear
the sound of slender silence speaking to your heart.
And
secondly a prayer from ROOTS magazine:
Make this a
personal prayer.
Jesus,
my Saviour,
when
I am sinking under the weight of perceived obligations,
save
me from my busy-ness;
when
I am sinking beneath the waves
of
other people’s expectations,
save
me from anger;
when
I am going under with worry about the future,
save
me from despair.
When
my inner faith slips through my fingers,
save
me from the storm of life and take my hand.
Amen.
