The Still Small Voice

Silence has become so deafening. In this culture, so saturated with advertisements, sound bites, palm-sized entertainment, and instant movies, temptation to ignore our need for silence is dangerously disguised. Masquerading as necessities, these things of modern life have amalgamated into an obsession of sorts. Their collective noise has become so much a part of the mundane, we don't know what to do with ourselves in silence.

Silence has an uncomfortable ringing to it, like that of a cell phone in a funeral. It doesn't seem to fit. When we are honest, we avoid silence because, it puts us face to face with our own ideas, our own voice, our own true self. So, we arrange church services to minimize it. We fire television producers who allow it to happen. We talk awkwardly and often unnecessarily rather than exchange a silent moment with a stranger next to us. Silence is uncomfortable. Therefore, if uncomfortable is bad then silence must be bad. This sort of if A is B and B is C then A must be C mentality is slowly robbing us of spiritual sensitivity.

God lives in the silence because that is where the still small voice can be heard most clearly, most purely, most prudently. The amount of noise that bombards us each day if we do not carefully and thoughtfully filter it is catastrophic. Noise of this frequency ravages our minds capacity to clarify priority, think critically, and investigate intuitively by finessing its way into even the nooks and crannies of our day-to-day living. It is to our mental and spiritual capacity as devastating as a strong wind, as shattering as an earthquake.

24-hour news. Billboards. Text messages. Phone ringing. Critical care monitor alarms. Television. Radio. The murmuring of any city. The running self-critical commentary in my head, affectionately called the "Itty Bitty Shitty Committee." Societal expectations. Familial expectations. All these things invade my space before breakfast. Some are important. Without the critical care alarms, a person entrusted into my care may die. I understand that noise. It's meaningful, like the cry of an infant whose breathed first breath. Some are neutral and unavoidable. The sounds of passers-by and car horns are part of my living landscape. Some are both avoidable and potentially damaging in the way that they take my eyes off the prize. The noise given off by television, radio, news, billboards, text messaging, the IBSC, and anyone's expectations of me but God form a toxic brew that if drank is the root of all kinds of evil. And, the lie we believe is that we have little control over the situation. We must be honest about our responsibility in this bombardment; we invite most of this noise because it drowns out any need to deal with the real, eternal issues of life.

Our lust for urgency has created animosity toward silence. And, this makes since. Silence requires time. Silence requires patience. Silence requires stillness, bravery, and initiative because it puts us ear to mouth with the voice that matters: God. Not only does it require us to listen in a culture that can barely hear, it often exposes those parts of ourselves toward which we are the most critical and uncomfortable. Living in a culture of pandaemonium confuses the mind into believing in "I'm okay" That, silence refuses to allow. Silence is like the friend who knows saying what needs to be heard is more important than the anger provoked by its exposure.

Discipleship requires honesty, occasionally that honesty must be brutal. The fruit born through silence is of such paramount importance that we must be brutally honest about its reality. Silence is not an escape from life's problems, it is the solution to them. It forces us into ourselves, into our minds, into the depths of our soul where the Holy Spirit resides within us. To not confront ourselves in the silence is to refuse not only our own humanity but the Creative nature of God. God bequeathed us the ability to analyze, plan, and create change in ourselves so that we may create change in the world. Choosing a life filled with mindless chatter must be like spiting in God's face when placed in comparison to all that has been given to us. And, the grip of grace is so much greater than our cultural mindlessness.

For my own spiritual survival, I must return to the place where temporary discomfort leads to lifelong spiritual gains. I have so much to learn from God about myself, about God's gifts within me, about how I fit into God's greater calling to humanity. Silence is the place where God says, meet me anytime. And, yet I am more afraid of that place than within the cacophony of our culture that is the sum total nothing important. I am more comfortable without than with my Creator. And, that is incredibly disappointing to me. This life is no dress rehearsal. If I am uncomfortable being with God now, how is an eternity with God heaven? Silence is compulsory discipleship activity. In knowing God and hearing the voice of God, we know ourselves. After all, without the breath of God, were were just lumps of clay lying cold on a shore. And, through Christ, the breath of God was restored to humanity. Nothing from the current cultural clatter will bring me closer to God until I have learned discernment from the silence.

I must be still and know. I must hear the still small voice that is only heard within a burning passion, only exposed after the mighty wind and earthquake have ended. I am choosing to end them today. The voice of God must be more present in my life. And, at this point more present is anything more than absent. I accept God's invitation to commune in the silence this day. Will you accept that invitation with me? I am committing to 30 minutes of silence each morning. Four mornings a week the silence will be while walking. Three mornings a week, the silence will be alone and still.

Grace and peace to you as we learn anew the Shepherd's voice; let me know about the table prepared before you in the silence.