Almost a year ago I wrote two posts called “The Silence” and “Let’s Admit the Silence”. I had just read Shusaku Endo’s powerful book, “Silence”, and it helped me to admit what I had suspected all along… that silence is the language of choice for That-Which-We-Call-God.
If All is Silent for those in their deepest suffering, then why should there be verbosity for those living in their victory?
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Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?
why… always seems to be the biggest question, ain’t that right HAL?
But He is still there. We will suffer. But He is still there.
We walk by faith, and not by sight.
He is there where He promised to be there, for us. In His Word and Sacraments.
Off to receive Him, now, in faith. Knowing full well that it won’t be until the end that I receive the full reward.
I had to look up the novel Chinmoku (“Silence”) by Japanese Catholic Shusaku Endo (1923-1996). Endo has a fascinating life story — sad in deepest of ways. I might have to read the novel. Seems like an American movie on the book may be coming out in 2013.
I wonder if “The Mission” had a similar impression on you, David.
Silence has many connotations. Are you pointing to the God that is silent because there are no miracles nowadays as reported to have been before the advent of cameras and video which can disconfirm inflated reports?
Or, are you saying, “Silence” or “contemplation”, is the true place to meet the Divine?
Or is there some other nuance of the world that informs your thoughts.
There are two obvious choices for silence in Japanese:
(1) Chinmoku (lack of sound, muteness, to make speechless)
(2) Shizuka (still, quiet, motionless with nuances of peaceful)
That the author choose #1 seems to clarify which nuance of our more ambiguous “silence” he is describing. But I am curious what David’s images are.
Interestingly, the last character in Chinmoku (??) is MOKU (?) which is the combination of two characters: Black + Dog. The character actually has several components: field + earth + fire + dog.
? A dog in the burning field!
Hey David, I believe God hears and answers me every time. The voice is silent but His actions are everywhere … the friend that calls when I needed one, the native birds singing outside that remind me that there are bigger things than personal turmoil, my health so that I may serve others, my relationship with supportive and unsupportive friends when I came out of the closet. Supportive friends made me realize that all will be well. Unsupportive friends made me realize how special my supportive friends are. I praise Him for it all. Sabio points out a great point about the different interpretations of silence. *I* believe God resides in what Japanese might call “shizuka” and the opposite in “chinmoku”. Or am I just being naive? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Hearing nothing from God at a given moment or any span of time does not disturb me near as much as other Christians interpreting my lack of hearing as being an indictment against my spirituality. e. g. If I were praying and reading my Bible like I should, I would be hearing stuff from God. uh…not necessarily…
It was a tough book to read. My Japanese brother-in-law had given it to me. He himself won’t got to church now over all the evil in the world, though he met my sister in church.
Somehow one would have hoped that the blood of the martyrs had been the seed of the church, but it wasn’t that either, at least not very obviously. When one does go to Nakasaki and sees the church of the martyrs and the beautiful Catholic cathedral in the bay, it does make one hold ones breath and keep ones silence.
The Japanese culture is very strong and insular.
David’s point about boasting is well taken, though. There is only boasting in the cross and it hurts. And still, the pain is like a wedge; you hit it from the top with the hammer, and it drives you deeper. As Bonhoeffer said at the end: for you this is the end of life, but for me it is the beginning.
@ Joan Yoshioka
Contemplatives of many traditions value the stillness and quietude (shizuka) as a beginning place of understanding — ?amatha, in Sanskrit. Some clothe this with the ornaments of language, some use “love”, some “God”, some “nebulosity” — but much more than this is theology which always shows more of our fears than of our abiding.
rikai shite itadaki arigat?gozaimasu
Henri Nouwen writes, “It is in solitude that we discover that being is more important than having, and that we are worth more than the result of our efforts. In solitude we discover that our life is not a possession to be defended, but a gift to be shared…
In solitude we discover that our worth is not the same as our usefulness…” -Out of Solitude
I have never remembered my dreams but several years ago I had several dreams in which there was silence and these dreams are vivid in my mind. Healing in the desert dream: short version
I was standing in the midst of a sea of people and yet seeing everything from above. In every direction there was nothing but people. Our arms lifted, with our palms upturned. There was only silence. This silence went on and on for what seemed like an endless time. Then in the distant one person started to sing, then another, and another etc., until finally all heaven and earth was ringing with the same song.
Following is the words of the song:
Healing in the desert (echo from others) Healing in the desert
Flowing like a river (echo) Flowing like a river
Healing in the desert (echo) Healing in the desert
Flowing like a river (echo) Flowing like a river
Can’t you see His Salvation? (echo) See His Salvation!
It’s flowing like a river (echo) It’s flowing like a river
To you and to Me (echo) To you and to me.
Hi David, sometimes you hit the nail right on the head. Thanks
David, so true.
The greatest example of friendship I’ve ever heard about was Job’s friends, who sat with him in his grief and pain for seven days and nights without saying a word.
The only good reason for verbosity that I can think of is to share ourselves with each other. When someone is genuine and willing to share, I can’t get enough. When I can tell that someone is genuinely interested in me and what’s important to me, I can’t shut up.
The only thing better than that is to have shared so thoroughly and so deeply with each other that the only thing left is to sit or walk or work or lie together without words, enjoying each other’s inexpressible preciousness. Silence. Bliss.
“That which we call God”…
I have never heard anyone other than myself word it this way!