Cycles of Newness

It is better to be silent and to exist than to speak and not exist. It is good to teach, if the one who speaks also acts. There is one teacher who spoke and it happened. And even the things he did in silence are worthy of the Father. The one who possesses the word of Jesus is truly able to hear even his very silence, that he may be perfect, and may both act as he speaks, and be known by his silence. – Saint Ignatius, Letter to the Ephesians

One of my favorite themes in the early church is Saint Ignatius theme of the silence of God. It has shown to be a recurring theme since I have arrived at seminary. Every question I have had since I have come here that wasn’t answered right out has been answered by deep, blessed silence. I have noticed lately that I have so much less to say (yet so much more to sing), with silence accompanying in harmony. For Ignatius, silence is the mastery of a mature Christian:

A man who has truly mastered the utterances of Jesus will be able to apprehend His silence, and thus reach full spiritual maturity. – Letter to Ephesians, Ch. 15

I cannot claim to master silence, but I can be grateful for it. The unanswered questions all rest in the heart of God’s silence. The greatest wonders lie there – the Incarnation, the Cross and the Virgin:

The virginity of Mary and her giving birth and also the death of the Lord escaped the notice of the ruler of this age—three mysteries loudly proclaimed which were accomplished in the deep silence of God. – ibid, Ch. 19

The Lord surrendered himself to be emptied out in silence. He came with no announcement but the miracle of a virgin birth. Miracles are like that, unannounced. He gave himself to the death of a common thief, taking no account for the shame. Even shame was silent. Our salvation did not rebuke His enemies at His crucifixion, instead the words He chose to break His silence with were “Father forgive them.”

I remember when I was at the height of my pain chronic pain in my stomach, in 2014 when I had my cane. I would lay down in bed around 11 and writhe in pain some nights until 5 when I finally fell asleep. One morning after a night of no sleep I woke up to the most blessed silence – no pain, no thoughts, nothing hurt. Christ was there. For 5 blessed seconds Christ was there and nothing else. Then a thought ripped through the silence “I don’t have any pain” and the pain flooded back. I will never forget that silence.

I have no idea what I am doing here at seminary, it’s so quiet. Christ is always in the silence. When we are finished thinking and arguing, when our words of praise and damnation fall away, there will be silence. Christ is waiting for us there.