Writings: God in the Silence

By: Dr. Gregory S. Neal

The Silence. I would love to be able to hear silence again, but I can’t because I have tinnitus. I’ve had it since I was young, but I didn’t start noticing that it was a problem until the early 2010s while on retreat at the monastery in Boston where I was once a novice. It was there, in the silence of the chapel, that I discovered that the high-pitched whine that I’d long been noticing in the background of my hearing had, suddenly, gotten much worse. I’m sure that it had been getting progressively more pronounced for a while, but most of the time I’m so surrounded by noise that I simply hadn’t noticed it before. So much of my life is filled with noise, with hustle-and-bustle, with distraction and irritation, that I hadn’t really noticed the constant ringing as a significant problem. But, then, sitting in the Monastic cloister during the great silence before morning prayer, I was deeply saddened to discover that my silence had been robbed from me. Rather than the deep silence that I used to hear there, now all I could hear was a constant, annoying, high-pitched whine that just wouldn’t go away. Indeed, the silence made it seem worse. When the readings, the prayers, the chanting, and the singing of morning prayer began, the beauty of the liturgy drowned out the incessant whine and gave me no peace; but, the calm of the silence before, which I had always adored, was gone. And, it’s been gone ever since.

I love today’s story from 1 Kings. It tells of Elijah escaping from Jezebel’s wrath and fleeing for his life until he became tired of running. He sits down under a broom tree, whines to God that he’s done with running and would rather die; he then lies down and falls asleep, and in his dream an angel of God feeds him so that he can make the journey ahead of him. He wakes up, eats and drinks, and then heads south to Mt. Horeb, which we also call Mt. Sinai … the mountain where God had given the 10 Commandments to Moses. Yes of course, this is the best place to have an encounter with God! Here’s where the story gets interesting:

“Go out and stand on the mountain before the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by.” Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.” (1 Kings 19:11-13)

We often think that God will only be encountered in the impressive experiences; in the loud flashing moments, the formal High Church services with organs and choirs, the concerts and the big contemporary worship services with praise bands and smoke machines, the exciting and the magnificent sights and sounds of life, the lightning and thunder, the earthquake and the wind. And it’s true, we often do come to know God better in those exciting “mountain top” experiences. I’ve had several big, flashing, amazing incidents in my own life where I came to know God and myself a little better. One of those was when I was visiting that monastery and the monks invited me to preside at Holy Communion. I am now, and was then, a United Methodist, and our communion services can be highly varied and sometimes informal, but as you know I tend to be a little more “traditional” and formal when it comes to worship; indeed, I have been trained in how to preside at communion like an Episcopal Priest and so, after the Eucharistic Sharing Agreement between the UMC and the EC was approved, the monks invited me to preside and I did. It was an incredible, grace-filled moment for me.

I had a similar experience in church this past Christmas Eve, during our evening service. Because of the COVID-19 Pandemic it was the first Christmas Eve Eucharist for me – for most of us, actually – since 2019; and, being here among you in my new appointment at Lakewood made it all the more amazing for me. As I stood here, behind the table, and presided at the sacrament, I could sense the incredible real presence of Jesus, right here among us. As Tom Fomby likes to say, I’m something of a mystic when it comes to matters of the Sacraments, and he’s right. In a way that I cannot explain with my mind but can affirm through scripture, tradition, and experience, I knew that evening that through the power of the Holy Spirit we were all in the presence of the amazing grace of the Christ Child … the amazing grace of the God of all creation. It was incredible, exciting, awesome, and also humbling.

And, yes, I’ve also absolutely experienced God in the silence: in the silence of the monastery, in the silence of prayer – alone or with a few others – in the silence of study, service, and giving. And, yes, especially in prayer; sometimes I’ll come in here during the week, sit in one of those pews, pray for you and for our ministry together, and there will be times when the all-encompassing presence of God will suddenly be right here. Even when the silence is interrupted by the high-pitched whine of my tinnitus, I can sense the silent yet awesome presence of God right here, in this place.

That’s where Elijah was. The 1 Kings passage says that Yahweh wasn’t in the great wind that split mountains and rocks into pieces; Yahweh wasn’t in the earthquake, that shook the ground; Yahweh wasn’t in a fire, or in any of those loud, flashy, amazing experiences where we would expect Elijah to encounter God. This account says that God wasn’t in those events for Elijah. But …

“…after the fire a sound of sheer silence. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.”” (1 Kings 19:12b-13)

He knew that God would be in the “sheer silence.” I love that phrasing. The Hebrew adjective here might be better rendered “thin” … as in narrow, smooth, crisp, clear, very precise silence. God was in that silence, and when Elijah heard it he covered his face with his cloak and left the cave to meet with God.

In the silence God spoke to Elijah, changed his proposed course of action and the course of the people of Israel. It wouldn’t be easy for him, but Elijah was told what he was to do, and he went and did it. In the silence, God spoke to Elijah. And, in our silence, God speaks to us.

Where have you heard God speaking to you in your silence? Do you want to hear God speaking to you in the silence? Sometimes it can be a challenge to hear the silence. We often have many distractions, but in moments like these – when the world has been turned topsy Turvey – we must listen for the silence, and for the One who comes to us in the silence.

© 2022 Dr. Gregory S. Neal
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