“What Do You Hear?”

A Sermon by Nada Sellers

March 2, 2008, 4^th Sunday of Lent

1 Kings 19:11-13

Hello darkness my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain, still remains
Within the sounds of silence.
In restless streets I walk alone, narrow streets of cobblestone,
‘Neath the halo of a street lamp, I turn my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night, and touched the sound of silence.

“The Sound of Silence” was written by Paul Simon in February, 1964, in the aftermath of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, on November 22, 1963.  Simon conceived the song as “a way of capturing the emotional trauma felt by many Americans at that juncture in U.S.  history.”  Interesting to note that when first released on the initial album by the team of Simon and Garfunkle, it went nowhere; the duo split up, heading in separate directions, making music on different continents.  But when the song was re-dubbed with electric instruments, and re-released as a single, it made its way up the charts to become a number one hit by the beginning of 1966.  Simon and Garfunkle got back together again and started making music – the rest, is history! (Wikipedia)

The “sound of silence.”  Just exactly how does silence sound?  Don’t we usually think of silence as the total absence of sounds, a great space of calm or quiet, where nothing intrudes?  How would you characterize the “sound” of silence?  (LET PEOPLE REFLECT/COMMENT).  Here in the first couple verses of his famous song, Paul Simon envisions the seeds of a vision and the reach of neon light splitting the night, each touching this aspect of silence…Other verses describe the disconnect of mis-communication, of words not heard or received, of bumping up against the sound of silence.  I know this song very well; it was one of the tracks on my parent’s copy of the vinyl record Bridge Over Troubled Water, and we played it often – it quickly became a favorite.  I continue to be captivated by the notion that silence has a sound – sort of like the philosophical puzzle about a tree falling in the woods: if no one is there to witness the tree falling, does it make a sound when it hits the ground or not?  Well… yes, but how do you know?

Our text in 1 Kings 19, describes another experience with the sound of silence, this one experienced by God’s prophet while hiding out, despondent in a cave on the most holy mountain of the Israelite people.  Mt. Horeb is another name for Mt. Sinai, far out into the desert, below the southern border of ancient Israel, in the wilderness of the Negeb, where God gave delivered the stone tablets with the 10 commandments on them and where Moses saw God in Exodus 24.  Here the despairing Elijah collapses, seeking the end of his life in the face of the constant danger and pressure he has had to deal with in being faithful to his calling as a prophet;  he has left his servant behind, effectively signaling the end of his ministry.  He’s giving it up, he’s ready to go, utterly spent.¹

But God has other plans, and chooses to commune with Elijah by revealing Gods-self: first a great wind, then an earthquake and finally fire.  These are the signs that typically signal God’s powerful presence- but in each case, Elijah finds that God isn’t there: God isn’t present , despite all the right signs – earth, wind, and fire (plus a rainstorm which took place in the last chapter).   And where was it that God finally showed up?  It wasn’t in the great wind; it wasn’t in the earthquake, and it wasn’t in the fire.  No, God chose to “pass by” in the “sound of sheer silence.”  Much thought has gone into trying to understand what this means... Literally the eerie calm is called “a sound of fine silence.”  In the Psalms this word refers to the quality of calm at the end of a storm.²   What Elijah hears, is the calm that comes after all these great signs of tremendous power and strength.  It is in this stillness, this “gentle little breeze” as some have described it,³ that an encounter with the Lord can take place.  Elijah HEARS the silence and the prophet’s response of covering his face with his coat, suggests that he has seen the fullness of God.  Notice how Elijah is drawn out of his cave; this connection with the Divine, brings him out to daylight, and he HEARS another sound, this time the voice of God speaking, "Why are you here?"

This is an extraordinary description of communication with the Divine – the amazing way in which God manifest Gods-self with the prophets and leaders in the ancient period, before the time of Jesus and the permanent arrival of the Spirit with the new people of God, the church.  We have been considering the way that silence is integral to prayer, and the power with which faithfulness in prayer can achieve God’s purposes.  I wonder how many of us have longed for the chance to experience God in some of these direct and power-filled ways?  Wouldn’t it be amazing to be deep in the mountain, or in the depths of very dark and difficult circumstances, and be able to discern the presence of God, receiving a new message with new direction when it all seems for naught?  Yes, we need to be able to rediscover silence – there is much about it that we have neglected in our desire to hear the voice of God.  We do a lot of talking, a lot of noise-making and noise-seeking.  Diana Butler Bass recalls that the great mystic Meister Eckhart said, “Nothing in all creation is so like God as silence.” Her contention is, based on her research into the renewal occurring in the neighborhood church, that rediscovering silence, is to rediscover God!⁴   Thomas Merton’s words echo through time: “Prayer is then not just a formula of words, or a series of desires springing up in the heart – it is the orientation of our whole body, mind and spirit to God in silence, attention and adoration.”⁵

But it’s more than this, more than becoming attuned in silent places; it also has to do with hearing… Elijah heard something in the silence, he KNEW that God had been revealed not in the places one would normally expect to find God.  What did he hear?  How did the silence sound different than at any other time when he sought God?  I’m wondering about Elijah’s ability to listen; how he came to develop the ear to hear how the silence held the sound that pointed to God.  Are you and I listening, really listening as we pray?  What have we learned about prayer and hearing – do all our words simply add up to this, a bunch of words, while God slips by in the sound of silence?   In a comment that sounds so incredibly postmodern, it’s hard to believe it was written centuries ago, the great monastic leader, St. Bernard of Clairvaux, says,“ Continual silence, and removal from the noise of the things of this world and forgetfulness of them, lifts the heart and asks us to think of the things of heaven, and sets our heart upon them.”⁶

Except that we are of this world, we are here in the midst of its noise and challenges and heartaches, and we need to be about the everyday business of being consumers in a capitalistic democracy.  We have mortgages, rents, car payments, daycare costs, vet bills, insurance to pay and prescriptions to procure and fuel to purchase.  When you bring this all together, in light of God’s call on our lives to be followers of Jesus, to be hearers and doers of the Word, how are we to keep our eye on the ball?  How can we be that person as well as that church God wants us to be?

Let me ask you something: when you pray about these sorts of questions, what are you hearing?  When you sprint through a far-too-busy day, when you need to cram six things into the time and energy reserved for two or three, when it seems that God is really far off, and certainly couldn’t care about all the stuff you’ve got on your plate, what do you hear?  I’m wondering if we take the time to listen and to expect that offering space for communing with God, will lead us to deeper understanding, maybe even to replies or even some answers that we need.   Yes, we say grace, we pray some in church, and we know that prayer is always possible; we wonder what we’re supposed to be saying… But when is the last time you began your time before God, without words, and rather, with the intention to listen?  Could it be we miss God passing by, without so much as a clue that God wants to speak and wants to re-direct our lives?

On Friday this week, I had the chance to attend a regional forum on new initiatives in ending homelessness with Mary Jane, at Holyoke Community College.  The goal for the second annual meeting of the Pioneer Valley Symposium on Housing and Homelessness, was to introduce the new regional plan to END, yes, I said END homelessness.  And in their report entitled, “All roads lead home,” the steering committee, working with state and federal officials, lays out ambitious, innovative new strategies for ending the outrage of homelessness, which are based on new models that are showing great success around the country.  Wow – how exciting it was to sit and listen to leaders and stakeholders speak with energy about this project and its next phases.  Speaker after speaker spoke of the need for fundamental change in the perspective that has so often been taken in working with the issues of homelessness.  Rather than breadlines, and soup kitchens, shelters and church basements, the effort will be to prevent homelessness, and invest in people and their needs.  Rather than managing the crisis, the desire will be to end the disgrace of neighbors who do not have homes.  The call was to be a part of a national and regional “conspiracy” to work together differently.  At some point along the way, I found myself eager to know how all of this came about – who was involved.  How did so many different voices come around these goals?  Can you guess?: in light of the great need, they got together regularly over a long span of time, in face-to-face discussions for fact-finding and sharing, study, dialogue and drafting. They heard each other and they listened and they moved to make changes.

Over and over again, references to the “moral and spiritual disgrace of homelessness” were made during the event, and the support of faith communities and leaders was explicitly sought to raise awareness – people only believe what they see, said one speaker, and hearts are less open as homeless people are seen again and again and nothing changes.  The dimensions of the problems, and the solutions that are being put forth will need to be taught and modeled… people cannot be allowed to lose their dignity and worth, simply because they lose a job, or become ill or experience any of the variety of things that most any of us could experience at some point in our lives.  I didn’t need to be reminded of just how pervasive the problems of homelessness are yes, here in the Pioneer Valley and around our state: Springfield and Holyoke are two of the seven hotspots in Mass when it comes to poverty and homelessness.  Over the course of a single year, almost 5000 people in our Valley experience some period of being without a home, and close to half of these are families with children!⁷

As I listened I started to realize what I was hearing; when the Federal “czar” of homelessness, Mr. Mangano who directs the US Interagency Council on Homelessness, said, “we will be tolerant of our homeless neighbors but intolerant of homelessness,” I started to hear something about North Church.  When I heard the challenge put out to faith communities to be voices that “remind us of the moral imperative on ensuring that none of our neighbors is without a home,” I recognized that the face of our neighbors who deal with poverty and homelessness comes into focus right across the street nearly every day, at the Survival Center.   This isn’t “their problem,” this is our problem together as a community, and it was part of the landscape even back in the time when the writer of Hebrews was making a case for doing good, by sharing what his or her readers had…”such sacrifices are pleasing to God." (Heb. 13:16a)  What about us?

What are you hearing, friends?  In the sheer silence that often accompanies this “hidden” problem called non-urban homelessness, are we listening and what do we hear?  In the sheer silences of too many empty pews, too much work to be done and too little energy and wavering commitments, how are we doing at hearing the voice of God, “Why are you here?”  Are we the type of Christian family that is willing to head out with a word of encouragement and support; the type of people who listen and parse the way to reach out across the divides of class and background and all those other impediments, because we see the face of Jesus and know we’re called to loving service?  What do you hear?

One Great Hour of Sharing gives us an opportunity to give toward the crisis intervention ministries of the UCC, for this country and in over 80 countries around the world.  This is an awesome chance to participate in something that brings millions of dollars together annually to relieve real human suffering.  But several hundred feet from here, out the front doors and across the street from here, there are a whole range of needs and issues that are being addressed with limited resources and lots of hard work, and the average amount of cash it takes to help prevent the slide into homelessness in any one situation is about $2,100 a year!  What do you hear?  Where is the miscommunication, the lapse is understanding that allows so many to deny that there’s anything wrong and to buy into the belief that there’s nothing we can do about it!?

I think, if we’re listening, that we will hear divine direction in the stillness: I believe that North Church has the genuine opportunity to reshape our relationship with our neighbors and our neighborhood, and it has to do with the real needs of those who come here every week for support, that's here - across the street, and here, in this Sanctuary.  I believe that God is still speaking on these issues and that we’d better be ready to listen and to act as God passes by with the power of rock-shattering wind, an earthquake, and consuming fire … The voice of the Holy One might be disguised as a regional agreement to be about this new work together.

I hear the chance to share the parallel experiences of renewal and re-direction, but only if we are willing to step out in faith, open up our doors and windows, and walk to the entrance of our caves.  I see the long reach of the Holy One, interrupting business as usual, and offering a new word.  What do you hear in the sound of silence?  If you aren’t listening, start making time to pray with silence.  If you aren’t hearing anything, pray for that sound in the sheer silence. And when you hear something, come talk with me about it; find someone in the pew next to you, write a letter to editor, organize your thoughts about what you have and what you can share, and let’s get on with being the church with open ears, open hearts, and open doors.

One more thing: when I greeted Director Mangano after the program and introduced myself as your pastor, he surprised me by asking me to pray for him!  I will add Mr. Magano to my prayer list, and would welcome you to do so as well.

Endnotes