Sounds of Silence

Often we think of prayer as talking to God, that flow of communication with the Sovereign Lord of hosts by which we express our praise, thanks, laments, doubts, fears, petitions, complaints, confessions and all those other aspects of life in communion with our Father in heaven. But how often do we just linger in the presence of God practicing the call of Psalm 46:10 to "be still and know that He is God." The scriptures are punctuated with the reminder that our God is "with" us. He reminds us of this in Isaiah 41:10 to calm our fears. He asserts this in Matthew 28:20 to embolden us and authorize us for mission. Jesus promises not to leave us as orphans but will come to us and be with us (John 14). "With us"--what exactly does that mean? Let me think about it. That is the agenda of being still.

In our times of prayer we whip out the prayer list, run through it with dispatch, pack up and go on our way. How much different is that from the confessional, where adherents line up to enter the enclosure, dump their sins and be on their way? How strange would it be to linger in silence? Surely the priest would hasten us on our way, the business having been conducted.

But prayer is more than a business meeting. Prayer is communion with our God in the splendor of His glory and the expression of His care. One of our goals in prayer is to grow to know our God, to reflect on His revelation in His Word and in His creation and in His providence and in His Son. We want to ruminate. That takes time and that takes discipline, the discipline of being still to know that He is God. In that stillness God impresses His glory upon us, prompting praise. He reminds us of His wisdom, that His ways are not ours, His workings are often inscrutable to our finite minds. Our prayers being fueled by awe and saturated with humility, dependence and submission. Stillness before God fosters depth of relationship with Him by which we might know Him not just academically but experientially.

Silence in prayer can become quite noisy, both with ejaculations of response and with unarticulated murmurs of musing in communion with the God of glory and grace who has entered into relationship with us through the reconciling work of His Son. With these sounds of silence, unlike the song that bears the same name, we don't say, "Hello, darkness, my old friend," but commune with Him who is the Light as the sons of light He has made us to be.