About Noise and Silence and finding the Holy in It...Entry #4

July 30, 2013

Silence is not always Golden.

Scene 1
The bell rings. Immediately eighty children, ages six to eighteen scramble to the dining hall to find their chairs; a few elbow jabs and friendly shoves along the way. For a moment, chaos arrives in all its glory. Then another bell rings. Silence. A community prayer is said for the meal and then eighty chairs all scrape at once as each child settles into the meal; chaos once again rising as all eighty voices speak at once. If you want the bread, you have to yell, "please pass the bread." You might have to yell it several times; it is so loud.

Would silence have been better? No. This was a precious time in my life at boarding school. It was chaotic and noisy and it was connection, togetherness. I remember it fondly, with smiles on my face, as family time.

Scene 2
1987. Minneapolis, Minnesota. The Twins have just one the World Series for the first time. I know because I've seen it on television and because I can hear the screaming and hollering from my back yard, four miles away! They called the Metrodome, Thunder Dome after that season. I was able to go to one of the division series games. It may be that I lost some of my hearing that day or some of my voice. I've probably not yelled so loud before or since. I don't even play baseball or softball myself. I'm not even that big of a fan but it was so delicious, such wonderful communion to join my voice with everyone else's. Imagine, 70,000 people all cheering for the same thing, all happy for the same thing! Would silence have been better? No. I imagine this is what it must feel like to join in the angel chorus. What a glorious noise!

Scene 3
The little boy is crying. It is hard to make out what he is saying but it has something to do with "wanting one." He is very upset. His hurried, stressed and tired mother is also very upset. Her face turns red as she grabs his left arm and lifts him up to drag him along down the sky way corridor. The three of us (my husband, my mother-in-law and me) watch in horror as we continue strolling in the opposite direction. Just after we pass them, we begin to talk about them with judgment. Suddenly, my mother-in-law turns around and walks back. With determined steps she catches up to the mother and child. Right there in the middle of the sky way, she takes that mother to task with a wake-up call. "What do you think you're doing?" She let her know in no uncertain terms that this is NOT the proper way to handle a crying child. I can't believe her daring! My Norwegian Lutheran Missionary upbringing taught me that getting involved could cause more trouble, that we should always keep silent. But would silence have been better? No. Sometimes justice requires a voice.

Scene 4
I haven't heard from her in weeks. We used to talk a lot and now suddenly nothing. A few phone calls and email attempts have not been answered so I give up. Immediately I begin some very egocentric wondering. "I wonder if it was something I did or said? What did I do wrong this time?" These miserable and chaotic rumblings lead me to stop calling and writing. I give up and leave the dead silence until one day I find out my friend has just recently found out she has cancer. She's been busy going for appointments and getting ready for the treatment. With the hearing of one word,"cancer," her world has become a lonely and silent place. Silence isn't always what we think it is.

There is a time for "Be still and know that I am God"
AND there is a time for "Make a Joyful noise"
AND there is a time for "Do Justice, Love kindness"
AND there is a time for "speak boldly"

Not ALL noise is bad and not ALL silence is good. Silence isn't always what we think it is.

there is a time to listen, to be still and silent
And there is a time to speak, scream, sing, challenge, wonder, ask...