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"Fool," said I, "you do not know.
Silence like a cancer grows."...(2)
If silence is viewed as a cancer, no wonder people avoid it.
But then we hear again those few words from the Psalmist: "Be
still...silent...and know that I am God." They are found in the
midst of an ancient hymn celebrating triumph over trouble and the
rock-solid conviction that, no matter what, God is with us and
God is in control. In the hurly-burly of life, we might not
notice that, but in silence, we hear and learn it again.
Silence is, after all, part of the natural order.
"Alternating silence, speech, and silence is the very rhythm of
God as old and deep in the nature of things as creation itself.
According to Genesis, God breaks the cosmic silence with a
creative word but...only during the days. At nightfall and on
the Sabbath, God falls quiet."(3) Between Good Friday and Easter
Sunday, the Bible has silence. Correspondingly, there is for us,
the creatures of God, a natural rhythm not only of work and rest,
but also of sound and silence. "There is a time for everything,"
says Ecclesiastes, "a time to be silent and a time to speak."(4)
Jesus knew which was which. His life reflects a balance of
the two. There were times he was in the midst of the crowd's
hub-bub, precisely where he needed to be; there were other times
when he retreated to the peace and quiet of the wilderness. On
that last night with his disciples, there was the meal together,
then an exit to the quiet of the garden for solitary prayer. In
the silence he would speak with...and listen for...the Heavenly
Father.
As busy a lady as the late Mother Teresa observed, "God
rarely is found in the midst of noise and restlessness; instead,
[God] is the friend of silence."(5) "Be STILL...and know that I am God."
In his book, Born Again, Chuck Colson wrote the following
of Richard Nixon:
As he spoke, Nixon came close to professing his own commitment..."When I was eight or nine years old, I asked my grandmother, a very saintly woman, a little Quaker lady, who had nine children -- I asked her why it was that Quakers believed in silent prayer."Be still, and know that I am God." Silence. In the words of the poet:
When we sat down to the table, we always had silent prayers; and often at church, while we sometimes had a minister or somebody got up when the spirit moved him, we often just went there and just sat, and we prayed...My grandmother spoke to me on this occasion, as she always did to her grandchildren and children, with the plain speech. She said, "What thee must understand, Richard, is that the purpose of prayer is to listen to God, not to talk to God. The purpose of prayer is not to tell God what thee wants, but to find out from God what He wants from thee."(6)
Be still...silent...and know...
Amen.
1. Cornelius Plantinga, Jr., "Background Noise," Christianity Today, July 17, 1995, p. 42
2. Paul Simon, "The Sound of Silence," 1964, BMI
3. Plantinga
4. Ecclesiastes 3:7
5. Plantinga
6. ibid.
7. Helen Steiner Rice quoted in Bible Illustrator for Windows

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