Silence, cold eerie silence.
In this post-modern day and age, we rarely find ourselves in a place that is so utterly silent as to be practically without sound. We are surrounded by noise—the chattering of talk radio, the booming of the latest music craze, even in the shopping centers and elevators of life we encounter the ever-present reminder of Muzac to keep us company. At work we are assaulted with myriads of sounds, from the boss handing out assignments to the response of the secretary or the ringing of the phone. Even the internet is now wired for sound so that you can search for the latest piece of news or information with surround sound convenience. We return home from work only to turn on our cable TV to act as a kind of “white noise” in the background of our family lives. Some of us even go to sleep with the latest tunes playing on the radio to soothe our tired souls and “give us rest.” Today a human can actually go from womb to grave completely surrounded by the music of their personal soundtrack. Surely we are rarely without noise in our lives!
In this post-modern life we seem to have grown afraid of silence. We avoid it. We try to fill it with something that will give “meaning” to the emptiness. Why do we do that? Why do we fill our lives with sound?
Could it be that we are afraid of what we may actually hear if we are silent?
Could we be afraid that we may hear nothing? That we may be drowning in silence?
I believe we have grown accustomed to sound as a substitute for genuine communication with the transcendent. We have blocked out the very voice of the cosmos with our sound track so that we do not have to give our souls pause and just listen.
When was the last time you listened, really listened, to nature around you? I heard a cardinal this morning, the bark of a dog, the jingling of my cat’s tags as he walked up the walk. It was so quiet I swear I could hear the sun groaning as it rose from its sleep!
I sat there, in silence. I listened. After a few seconds I grew jittery, even panicky. I really should be doing something, listening to something, “accomplishing” something worthwhile with my time.
I heard a voice, quiet and still—“Hush, be quiet. Be still and know . . . .” I listened, and in that silence I found a reverence for life that I hope only grows throughout the day. The quiet voice didn’t offer any startling revelations, but my basking in silence lent a kind of sacred feel to my morning. God was there. We had coffee. We sat quietly like two old friends for whom words would be a waste of effort. We silently toasted the beginning of a new day, and I felt as though the Almighty smiled at me. That stillness of that moment had created an almost “holy” space for the two of us to share. I know he was there. I long for a few more quiet moments with my Friend.
Shhh . . .
Listen. . .
Was that the whisper of his voice?
2 comments:
I definitely sympathize with your feelings about the need/hate of silence in my life. I'm sure you feel at times overwhelmed with all the baggage and compromises we need to make in order to be for anything or care about anything. I see it in you in class when you talk about the strain that the new PhD is putting on you (i'm in your life of christ class btw). I want to someday be a professor because I love sharing the learning experience. But there is a point when we question if the baggage that comes along with the goal is worth it. I love being a student, but I daily have to be sure of my priorities. Sometimes it gets to the point that the "job" of being a student ruins the joy of learning for me. But as with anything that's worth having, it comes at a price. That's why its so important to life an evaluated life. The problem with this, as you stated above, is that we listen so much to the world (i don't necessarily mean world in a bad way) that we forget why we started our journey the way we did in the first place.
All that was to agree/say that my time alone, in silence, is the best time for me to reevaluate the way that i'm living. I don't mean that I sit in silence and poor my insecurities out to God, that is good and necessary, but it's not silence. In that moment i'm doing the talking. Silence is not counseling, its silence. There are times when we need to just be silent and not expect to get a nugget of truth from god, not try to lead him but allow ourselves to be led by him. I find that I need to talk to God and get the stress of life off my chest, but i do this only to quiet my mind and get to that place where i can truly be silent. Its like "ok god, i've told you what's up. Now i'm going to sit with you for a bit" i find in that time my sin is revealed to me as sin. That's what i mean by living the evaluated life. We need to be willing to sit in silence and let the truth sink in. This has been a revolution in my life from the way i used to pray. I used to pray, and ask for forgiveness, and ask for strength and wisdom, and then i'd hang up on God. Just when i needed to listen the most. I'm sure we all know people who call us just to vent but aren't looking for real advice but just sympathy. I wonder how many times i've been that person with god.
This reminds me of a conversation between Robin Williams and Matt Damon in "Good Will Hunting". At one point Robin breaks Matt down saying that Matt just builds walls by living vicariously in the world, never expressing his true self to anyone. Robin says "there isn't anything about you that i can't learn from a book" challenging him to actually share himself in the risk that is inherently involved in a healthy relationship. He ends his challenge by saying "but you don't wanna do that do you sport... you're just terrified about what you might say" I'm challenged by this when i think about how little i've really shared time with god lately. Maybe i'm terrified of what i might say.
Caleb:
Your words convict and move me at the same time! How true that we too often allow the pressures of life to cover up the sweetness of just "being" in God's presence. All of it--the ugliness, the beauty--is worth it for a few minutes with our Father, isn't it? Thanks of encouraging a sometimes discouraged professor! May your tribe increase!
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