Zetland Park Methodist Church Pastoral Letters
"The sound of silence"?
Do you recall that old popular song, "The sound of silence"? Have you ever experienced it? Yet, what IS this silence? One could respond, "The absence of noise", but is that all of the answer? Where do I go and experience, this 'silence'; indeed, where can it truly be found?
Our Scriptures begin with 'the Spirit brooding over the chaos'. There is no indication in the material available to us that there was in fact any noise at all, so can we possibly think that 'silence' was the order of the day, waiting for 'something' to happen? Maybe --- but that could just be conjecture and open to re-interpretation. Elijah 'almost' it would seem, 'got it', with that 'still small voice of calm', or is that in fact the Biblical writer's method of indeed saying, 'there was silence' There had been a cacophony of sound and motion: earthquake, wind and fire and certainly there was a remote suggestion that 'silence' was anywhere around, until ---- 'The sound of silence?'
We recall that it was only in this mode that the prophet of old was able to hear the voice of the Living God whom he sought to serve. It was only when the turmoil ceased, in body, mind and spirit that God 'got through' and sorted out the next stage of what He wanted the prophet to do. Ehmm, this is getting perilously close to something we might just be a wee bit familiar with ----- space for God.
'Silence' can and does feel so often an uncomfortable medium for many to work in. " I cannot for a moment imagine how a stockbroker working at the very 'coal face' of economics on the Stock Exchange can ever experience 'silence' in their daily grind: it's certainly not my 'cup of tea', and the mere thought poses its problems. " For others there is a sense that each and every space NEEDS to be filled with something or another, and unless we do just that, then we have failed in the journey we call, 'life'. 'Silence' is there, but not very much appreciated. " The 'silence' can spell fear for yet others ---- as a child's voice is stilled, or an elderly relative does not communicate: a 'space' is created which becomes filled with terror and 'silence' becomes a vehicle of fear.
But what of this 'space for God'?
I recently shared with Pauline a 'quiet day' in a lovely rural setting in Northamptonshire. There we were with some fourteen others, in a century-old Baptist chapel, surrounded with history, yet engaged too in mission with the present age. There was time to reflect on 'our journey so far', and we needed time, quiet time, to assess and re-assess the influences that had permeated through to shape us into what we are this day, and how, if possible, we can assess what had brought us to this stage of our Christian journey. We NEEDED time with God for this, and walks were made around the quiet village; onto a nearby public footpath stretching along the River Nene; simply gazing on the wonders of a well-tended garden provided by the caretaker and his wife; or reflecting on the Cross prominent in this place of worship. And through it all? There was indeed, "silence".
There was then an invitation to become 'creative', as paint and brushes appeared; crayons and pencils were poised, and books were opened. Poems and reflective writings were composed, and cross stitched crosses appeared in their set colours. And there was "silence". But here too in that setting, there was God. How do I arrive at that, setting aside any clergy insight?
The simple answer, without being 'trite', is that we had come to the point where we sought and encounter with God. We had begun to set aside the weeds and bushes; the scrub and the whins; the knurled tree branches that clogged up our lives, and into that once-dark gloom came the light of God's Presence. No words can truly describe such an encounter, because for each and to each, that 'experience' is truly unique. That is NOT a 'cop-out', but rather a 'profession of faith'.
It came about for me and others because we begun to clear the undergrowth of 'merely existing', and allowed God into a space that we had sought to clog up to become self-protective. We had dared to 'let go, and let God'. The need was to find a way of doing just that, and it was found in 'silence'.