Holy Silence, Holy Words - Proverbs 1:20-33; Psalm 19; James 3:1-12; Mark 8:27-38
Earlier this week, global superstar Taylor Swift posted to her Instagram that she will be voting for Kamala Harris for president in November. As you can imagine, the online response was fast and fierce. As of this writing, her post has over 10.5 million “likes,” and has of course received just as much backlash. The next day, she won several MTV Video Music Awards. The award show happened to take place on September 11th, and Taylor used the opportunity to remember the lives lost that day 23 years ago. Once again, the internet erupted. It’s hard for me to imagine millions of people sharing thoughts in a public forum about something that I said. And so I wonder, with a platform that size, how does Taylor Swift decide when to speak up and when to stay quiet?
She can’t possibly comment on every single policy, campaign, or current event, because there wouldn’t be time to brush her teeth, much less headline an international tour. On the other hand, it’s difficult to build relationships (or in Taylor’s case, a fan base) without sharing at least a little bit of personal information. As you all know, self-disclosure is something I struggle with in my own life, and my platform - this pulpit - is a tiny fraction of Taylor’s size. Where do we draw the line?
I know all too well, and I suspect you do too, the total agony of opening your mouth and regretting it later. Do you remember in the 1998 classic You’ve Got Mail, when Meg Ryan meets her sworn enemy Tom Hanks in a cafe, not knowing that he’s the man she’s been flirting with over email? She gives him a piece of her mind and later - in an email - laments, “I was able, for the first time in my life to say the exact thing I wanted to say at the exact moment I wanted to say it. And, of course, afterwards, I felt terrible.” It’s just so relatable.
It’s astounding, really, that the human voice can sing opera, say “I love you,” and save a life, and yet it’s also true that our words can declare war, and that the hardest apologies we ever make are when we’ve said something out loud that hurt someone we love. The author of the letter of James is struck by this conundrum. He talks about how our voices, what he calls “the tongue,” have the power to guide our whole lives, but they’re very finicky. Channeling his inner Meg Ryan, James laments, “from the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so.”
Even Jesus has something to say today about our troublesome mouths. Peter thinks he is protecting Jesus by warning him against talking about his death, but Jesus snaps back for Peter to “get behind me, Satan!” And although the disciples are trying their best to understand Jesus’ message, they’re just not there yet. And Jesus would rather them keep quiet than spread misinformation about the Kingdom of God, so he sternly orders them not to tell anyone about him.
Friends, I’d say we have a spiritual problem with chatter, and we are in desperate need of guidance on how to discern right speech. Usually, I like to try things on until I find the right fit, but somehow, I don’t think the solution to our problem with words is to keep yammering on until we get them right. That sounds like a recipe for hurt feelings and miscommunication. Instead, I’m inclined to turn to today’s Psalm, Psalm 19. It’s a real gem among the psalms and its opening verses are among my very favorites.
The heavens declare the glory of God, * and the firmament shows his handiwork.
One day tells its tale to another, * and one night imparts knowledge to another.
Although they have no words or language, * and their voices are not heard,
Their sound has gone out into all lands, * and their message to the ends of the world.
It’s such a lovely, poetic illustration of the way that God’s creation, the natural world, praises God more keenly than we humans could ever hope to do, and all without uttering a single word. The silence of nature is clean and pure and deafening. If only we could learn to convey messages of love without our pesky mouths getting in the way, wouldn't that solve a problem or two?
Mercer University professor Nancy deClaissé-Walford thinks that we are, in fact, capable of channeling such holy silence. She notes that Psalm 19 reminds her of Elijah’s encounter with God after he flees Jezebel. Elijah hears God not in the wind or the earthquake or the fire, but in sheer silence. And there are other examples in scripture of God breaking through in moments of silence. When Jesus strips demons of their power, he silences them. And Jesus frequently steps away from the crowds to spend time alone in silence with God. Could it be that our scriptures are calling us away from the endless search for the right words, and inviting us instead to meet our creator in holy silence?
Turning back to Psalm 19, the penultimate verse pleads to God, “above all, keep your servant from presumptuous sins; let them not get dominion over me.” Translated here as “presumptuous sins,” the Hebrew word “zedim” has several possible meanings. We sometimes see it translated as “keep your servant from the insolent,” which implies an outside influence. But more often, it is translated as “pride” or “proud thoughts,” as in, “God save me from my own words.”
In light of this plea, the final verse of the Psalm asks God to “let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer.” To the psalmist, our words and our hearts are inextricably linked, which suggests to me that when we are able to meet God there, it is in holy silence that we will find our holy words. Or as the author of the book of Proverbs puts it, Wisdom will pour out her thoughts and make her words know to us.
On some level, I think we have always known that silence is the key to hearing God’s voice in our lives, and in rightly ordering our own voices. We respect the few minutes of silent prayer before a worship service. Our liturgy is filled with moments of silence. Our community has even set apart a special place for silence, the Arkansas House of Prayer on the St. Margaret’s campus.
But the truth is that embracing silence as a spiritual practice is hard. The busy, frenetic society we live in doesn’t offer us many opportunities to pause in stillness. When we do find such opportunities, we are often hesitant to embrace the silence, because what if we don’t like what we hear? The disciples had some meager and comfortable ideas about the coming of the Kingdom of God, but Jesus tells them firmly, you will have to take up your cross and follow me through death and resurrection. What if, in our own silence, we hear God ask us to pick up a cross that is heavy and frightening? What will we do then?
I’m encouraged that today’s scriptures, the same ones that warn us of the dangers of running our mouths and not listening for God in silence, also tell us that the law of the Lord revives the soul, and that those who listen to wisdom will be secure and will live at ease without dread of disaster. Can you imagine a life without any dread of disaster? Wouldn’t finding such a life be worth a little bit of discomfort as we learn to dwell in the silence?
The more we sit in silence, the more God can speak to us, and the more our own speech will work towards the Kingdom of God, not against it. Thankfully, we don’t have to worry about millions of people responding to our every word, but the practice of using our words for blessing and not for cursing is a faithful one and worthy of our devotion. And if our scriptures tell us anything today, the place to search for our own holy speech is not the internet or the dictionary, or even the Bible itself, but in silence, where God can speak to us and we can hear God clearly. In silence, we will learn how to send our sound out into all lands, and our message to the ends of the world. Amen.