The Strangeness of Silence

I don't like silence. 

No, that's not quite true - I like (and sometimes demand) silence when I'm talking - especially to a class.  But I don't like to be in silence.  I don't like to be surrounded by it.

If I'm at home, I'll often have the TV on in the background, even if I'm not really watching it.  Or I'll put some music or the radio on, just so that I'm not in silence.

I had the very odd experience of being in a room of 300 people yesterday which was silenced by someone.  It felt unnatural and uncomfortable. 

We don't like to be silenced.

I think our modern understanding of silence has negative connotations of punishment or poverty: punishment for bad or antisocial behaviour - we make people work in silence and take away their right to speak; or poverty if people can't afford, or don't have, TVs or MP3 players to fill their silences.

We don't see silence as a privilege.

We don't see it as a privilege and most of us are scared of what we might find in the silence.

If we strip away the competing voices and distractions, if we silence the noises which surrounds us, we are left with ourselves.  With our own hearts and our own thoughts and our own voices. 

And sometimes we don't want to hear those things.

Sometimes we'd rather hide in the noise than deal with the deep longings and desires and dissatisfactions we find in our own hearts.

But the Bible tells us that sometimes we need silence.

       "This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says:

       'In repentance and rest is your salvation,
       in quietness and trust is your strength.'"

       [Isaiah 30:15 NIV, emphasis mine]


        "I’ve cultivated a quiet heart.
        Like a baby content in its mother’s arms,
        my soul is a baby content.

           Wait, Israel, for God. Wait with hope.
        Hope now; hope always!"

 

        [Psalm 131:2-3 MSG]

Sometimes we need to mute the world, in order for us to hear the true longings of our hearts and to listen for God's voice.   

And it is in the silence that we will hear the still, small voice of God.

Roundabouts and Road Maps

This afternoon I made my way down to the Royal Bath and West Showground to spend the next five days at Momentum.

Although I have made the journey about 10 times before, I can never fully picture the route. I forget how many roundabouts there are and whether I turn right or left at them.

However, I have come to stop worrying about making the right turning or knowing my whole route in advance. Every time I came to a junction or a roundabout, I found that I instinctively knew the way and remembered it from the past.

I wish that I had the same faith and confidence in my journey with God.

Instead, I often find myself longing to know the whole route before I've even taken the first step. I want to know in advance how many 'roundabouts' I'll encounter and how many junctions there are. I want to have warning of any roadworks or delays.

I don't like not knowing.

But I am realising slowly that maybe I don't need to know everything in advance. Maybe all I need to know is the One who is leading me and guiding me.

God says in Isaiah,

"Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, 'This is the way; walk in it.'"

[Isaiah 30:21 NIV]

I don't need to know the route in advance. I don't need a road map which depicts my entire journey. I just need to know the One who knows. And the more I get to know Him, the more easily I will recognise His voice.

And, when the time comes, I will know whether to turn to the right or to the left.