Well it may
be one of my favourite Simon and Garfunkel tracts but this week as I reflect on
the phrase ‘The Sound of Silence’ I’m not thinking of this 1964 classic,
written in the aftermath of the Kennedy assassination, but of a comment made to
me at the serving hatch of our church hall one day this week. It was the day we
received a number of welcome visitors from the Tuesday group at Bloomsbury
Central Baptist Church. Instead of
meeting in their church hall for lunch we were their final summer outing destination
for 2013 so they joined us for lunch in ours.
One of their number said to me just how much he was enjoying the lack of
background noise in Amersham compared to central London. He said it was refreshing to hear the sound
of silence!
After lunch that experience became even more intense as we gathered in The Sanctuary for a talk by Alison MacTier, Director of The Retreat Association, who actually concluded her time with us by leading a short – and silent – meditation.
We often long for silence when our lives are crowded and noisy. Whether we know what to do with it is another matter.
I, like many people, have tinnitus which means silent retreats are never totally so because there is always a high pitched ringing in my ears. I remember being diagnosed and the rather down to earth consultant, after examining me, said ‘Well looks like you’ve got tinnitus, I’ve got it, my wife’s got it and now you’ve got it – none of us can do anything about it so you’ve just got to live with it’. I actually found that rather helpful!
The point of meditation in the Christian tradition isn’t just to find the silence. That very process often brings lots of other thoughts and worries into our minds and maybe these are the current issues that we need to be addressing prayerfully. To that end retreat leaders, when settling a group down for say half an hour of quiet or silent prayer, actively encourage retreatants to listen to the noises coming in from outside the building or the thoughts filling the empty space we’re trying to clear in our minds. The idea is that slowly, and with a consciousness of God that can be all too absent from our usual rushed routine, we linger with these thoughts and tease out what they may be saying to us about our journey through faith and life.
Over the years retreats, quiet days and silent prayer have given me tools to hone down what I believe to be the really important things in life. They have been the tools I’ve often used to separate the dross from the gold and begin to see with a greater clarity what matters. They are, I believe, effective tools in our pilgrimage with Christ – giving him the space to speak into the silence.
A lady I once knew, now in God’s nearer presence, called Phyllis used to come along to Thursday Morning Prayers every week without fail. She was a very, very quiet lady whose main ‘ministry’ was, I think, essentially that of praying for our church. One morning after the prayer group the only ones left were Phyllis, myself and another lady and we got on to the subject of favourite hymns. I was touched when she suddenly, and I thought uncharacteristically, burst into song singing with a lovely sweet voice her favourite hymn. All the words she knew by heart and the middle verse went like this:
Ev’ry day, ev’ry hour, ev’ry moment
have been blessed by the strength of God’s love.
At the turn of each tide he is there by my side,
and his touch is as gentle as silence.
Now that, I reckon, is as good as any Simon and Garfunkel number!
With best wishes,
After lunch that experience became even more intense as we gathered in The Sanctuary for a talk by Alison MacTier, Director of The Retreat Association, who actually concluded her time with us by leading a short – and silent – meditation.
We often long for silence when our lives are crowded and noisy. Whether we know what to do with it is another matter.
I, like many people, have tinnitus which means silent retreats are never totally so because there is always a high pitched ringing in my ears. I remember being diagnosed and the rather down to earth consultant, after examining me, said ‘Well looks like you’ve got tinnitus, I’ve got it, my wife’s got it and now you’ve got it – none of us can do anything about it so you’ve just got to live with it’. I actually found that rather helpful!
The point of meditation in the Christian tradition isn’t just to find the silence. That very process often brings lots of other thoughts and worries into our minds and maybe these are the current issues that we need to be addressing prayerfully. To that end retreat leaders, when settling a group down for say half an hour of quiet or silent prayer, actively encourage retreatants to listen to the noises coming in from outside the building or the thoughts filling the empty space we’re trying to clear in our minds. The idea is that slowly, and with a consciousness of God that can be all too absent from our usual rushed routine, we linger with these thoughts and tease out what they may be saying to us about our journey through faith and life.
Over the years retreats, quiet days and silent prayer have given me tools to hone down what I believe to be the really important things in life. They have been the tools I’ve often used to separate the dross from the gold and begin to see with a greater clarity what matters. They are, I believe, effective tools in our pilgrimage with Christ – giving him the space to speak into the silence.
A lady I once knew, now in God’s nearer presence, called Phyllis used to come along to Thursday Morning Prayers every week without fail. She was a very, very quiet lady whose main ‘ministry’ was, I think, essentially that of praying for our church. One morning after the prayer group the only ones left were Phyllis, myself and another lady and we got on to the subject of favourite hymns. I was touched when she suddenly, and I thought uncharacteristically, burst into song singing with a lovely sweet voice her favourite hymn. All the words she knew by heart and the middle verse went like this:
Ev’ry day, ev’ry hour, ev’ry moment
have been blessed by the strength of God’s love.
At the turn of each tide he is there by my side,
and his touch is as gentle as silence.
Now that, I reckon, is as good as any Simon and Garfunkel number!
With best wishes,
No comments:
Post a Comment