The Sound of Silence

As nearly the last to post on this forum, perhaps I should explain my silence. Would that I could do so! Silence is one of the most difficult things to explain, but it is a wonderful word, nevertheless – almost a riddle. An image which captures the difficulty for my mind’s eye is a very fast moving wheel (on a car, say) which is simultaneously still and revolving. One knows how at certain points on a highway the fast-moving wheel on a next-door car seems motionless; it has combined both speed and stasis. Or take the waterfall with its perpetual motion and stability; one looks at voluminous motion only to see it virtually still. And hence the predicament, in a world where we are often revolving, not to say spinning, how does the stillness enter? Our culture supports "the lurch method" just fine: we can lurch from frenetic work to medicated stasis in front of the TV or internet. The frenzy of one segment of our life demands the mental shut-down of the other. The work week begets the weekend, but rarely in either does one find silence. The TV, the computer, and the bottle do not offer us silence; they offer numbness. If we can infuse our speed with stillness, our motion with stasis, then the opponents of "Go" and "Stop" have been harmonized. I am reminded of C.S. Lewis’s sage remark that in Heaven there will be only Music and Silence; in Hell, only noise. In their way, Music has its own silence and true Silence has its own music: noise contains neither. I had better stop speaking!

Nicodemus

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Comments

[Thomas More]

Maybe just a corolary, but a saying from the Sage of Westwood, John Wooden, comes to mind: "Never mistake activity for achievement."

Thomas More

[Thomas More]

Though Augustine could hardly keep up with our Nicodemus, I thought Book 1, Chapter 4 of "The Confessions" spoke nicely to this post:

What art Thou then, my God? what, but the Lord God? For who is
Lord but the Lord? or who is God save our God? Most highest, most
good, most potent, most omnipotent; most merciful, yet most just;
most hidden, yet most present; most beautiful, yet most strong, stable,
yet incomprehensible; unchangeable, yet all-changing; never new, never
old; all-renewing, and bringing age upon the proud, and they know
it not; ever working, ever at rest; still gathering, yet nothing lacking;
supporting, filling, and overspreading; creating, nourishing, and
maturing; seeking, yet having all things. Thou lovest, without passion;
art jealous, without anxiety; repentest, yet grievest not; art angry,
yet serene; changest Thy works, Thy purpose unchanged; receivest again what Thou findest, yet didst never lose; never in need, yet rejoicing
in gains; never covetous, yet exacting usury. Thou receivest over
and above, that Thou mayest owe; and who hath aught that is not Thine?
Thou payest debts, owing nothing; remittest debts, losing nothing.
And what had I now said, my God, my life, my holy joy? or what saith
any man when he speaks of Thee? Yet woe to him that speaketh not,
since mute are even the most eloquent.

So as Nicodemus brings us to merge our own stop and go in life, Augustine sees our model and guide as "unchangeable, yet all-changing." It seems, then, that our God is the perfect place to begin, and end, this comment.

But not before a quick review Augustine's penultimate exhortation: "woe to him that speaketh not"