The Silence of Beauty

I remember a piano teacher often reminding me of the importance of silences in a piece of music. I would play to him the piece that I had been practicing; he would listen intently, and at the end comment that I had not paid enough heed to the ‘rests’ - the periods of time during which one or both of my hands didn’t play. ‘Silence is part of the music,’ he would say, ‘Silence allows the music to breathe’.

We live in a culture that is addicted to background noise. Most of us are so accustomed to the sound of traffic that we simply blot it out. The hum of the fridge, or the murmur of the central heating are so much part of our daily life that one of them has to go off unexpectedly for us to be aware of it. We let even music wash over us - so much so that a national music radio station has recently launched what it has called its ‘Hear Hear’ campaign.

We are frightened of silence; scared of the loneliness, the isolation or the nothingness which it seems to imply; of confronting some of the realities within us, stripped of the defences that words provide, and of being vulnerable before God.

At the same time, we have got out of the habit of proper listening. Maybe we are scared of that too. True listening requires silence on the part of the listener, and implies engagement and commitment. It places demands upon us. For these same reasons we can be scared of really listening to God.

I am often struck by the silences which  pervade the gospel narrative. We are constantly reminded that in the midst of a punishing schedule, Jesus spends time alone in prayer. When, in response to a miraculous healing, people want to rush off and tell the world, Jesus invites them to tell no-one. Witness is to be preceded by silence. Again, surrounded by a crowd who utter words of accusation at the woman taken in adultery, Jesus simply remains silent, writing in the sand.
In contrast, Jesus’ followers are all too often too quick to speak and consequently often say the wrong thing! The gospel story is laced with examples of impetuous outrage, lies and denial, rash and empty promises, flawed self-perception, arguments, and the total inability to listen and understand. No wonder that in order to speak meaningfully at Pentecost, the apostles need words to be drawn from them not by a commandment to keep talking, but by the mysterious power and gift of the Holy Spirit who inspires the right words at the right time. 

Pentecost is often a moment for us to remember our call as Christian disciples to be effective witnesses to Jesus Christ in language that others can readily understand. Yet at the heart of our worship and witness there is always an invitation to listen to the gospel story and to find the quietness to attend to it carefully. The great mysteries of our faith invite us first to silence, to the encounter with the living God where we shall come more fully to know ourselves.  Silence allows worship to breathe. It lies at the heart of mission. It is part of the music of Christian living.

Mary Coates is the ecumenical moderator, Milton Keynes.