The Sound of silence, for children of the 1960s it brings back memories of Simon and Garfunkel. It is used by English teachers such as I to demonstrate an oxymoron “a combination of contradictory or incongruous words” (www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/oxymoron) when teaching figurative language in Literature. As I sat tonight however, in the silence of the church prior to Ash Wednesday services it dawned on me that there really are different “sounds of silence.” How those silences affect us depends largely on the type of silences we hear.
There is the awkward silence, made infamous by talk show and game show host Craig Ferguson when he hosted The Late Late Show and offered his guests the opportunity at the end of each interview the choice to do “an awkward pause.” It was a comedic demonstration of that awkward silence that occurs when you don’t know what to say. Many of us have experienced it on first meetings with someone. Some of us experience it after we have experienced a loss and people come up to you and say “I just don’t know what to say.” Or they say nothing at all.
There is the Thundering Silence I have heard soldiers refer to. That brief split second of silence just after an explosion. The silence that precedes the chaos that inevitably follows. There is the thundering silence following the 21 gun salute at a military funeral when the echo of the last round still hangs in the air. The thundering silence on 9-11 just after the second plane hit the twin towers. That eerie silence that preceded the chaos of ashen covered people running from the neighboring buildings.
There is the deafening silence, usually experienced by parents of teenagers. The silence that follows in answer to a simple question posed by the parents such as “how was your day.” Then there is the deafening silence of someone who is angry with you and giving you “the silent treatment.” The silence designed to deliberately either force the issue or cause you to give up and flee.
There is the sorrowful silence. The silence you hear all the way in your soul. That silence you hear because someone you love is no longer there. The silence you try to fill with replays of messages left by loved ones on your voice mail. The silence you try to fill by turning the TV on even when you’re not watching just to have the sound of another person in your house.
There is restful silence. That brief reprieve from the noises that have assaulted your senses for an extended period of time. The silence you are grateful for because in part you know it will not last long.
These sounds of silence although at times short lived are usually the most easily found. Perhaps because these are the sounds of silence that find us with little effort on our part. The awkward silence finds us at first meetings or at any given time when we don’t know what to say to someone or vice versa. The Thundering silence finds us just before chaos ensues. The deafening silence is inflicted upon you by someone else as retaliation for a perceived slight. The sorrowful silence finds you after the death of a loved one. The restful silence finds you in the absence of noise.
Then there is the most allusive of all the sounds of silence, peaceful silence. The silence we all strive for and rarely find in the hustle and bustle of our daily lives. We meditate, go on retreats, pay therapists, go to workshops, and take medications all in search of this allusive peaceful silence. It is the silence that is closet to us but it is hardest for us to find. Perhaps it is so allusive because we have to actively seek out peaceful silence. We have to shut out the external world and look into what Theresa of Avilla called “our inner castle.” We have to go within ourselves to search out this peaceful silence. We have to make the time to wholeheartedly seek the peaceful silence within ourselves. This season of Lent I encourage you to zealously search for your own peaceful silence. “May the Peace of the Lord be always with you.”
