Out of Silence

Many years ago I read a book by then contemporary author, Elizabeth O’Connor. Journey Inward Journey Outward was title of the book (Harper & Row, 1968) and it gifted me with a framework for my spiritual journey and also professional understanding which moved my life in ways I had not dreamed of as possible. I had an early entry into pastoral ministry, but even after a few years of experience and seminary graduation under my belt, I had need of what was provided at that crucial point. O’Connor’s book is simply a story of Church of the Savior in Washington, DC and its innovative ministries. She wrote of this church’s vital balance of engagement with self, God, and others (Journey Inward), and how it proceeds from this to involvement with the needs of the greater community (Journey Outward). I was hooked, consumed this book as well as a number of others by this author, also began reading another prolific author, Father Henri Nouwen. Interesting how resources from beyond sometimes provide just a little more than we know we need! Anyway, I was taken in by O'Connor's convincing thesis that quietude is absolutely essential for any person or any faith community of any kind to have a breath of life. There is death if we are dependent on ideas only. I already knew at that early stage that my ministry would falter very shortly if somehow I did not learn something more about this.

I remember like it happened yesterday. I was appointed pastor of a brand new church-plant, a very positive process of discernment and cooperation with a parenting church which eventually provided occasion for a daughter church to begin in another part of the city. A great gift in that formative situation was that there were some very enthusiastic participants with vision and literally a willingness to do ‘whatever it took’ within this new fellowship. And mercifully it was not all rah rah, even though we were surrounded by many cheering sections from other churches as well as our denominational leaders. What a privilege to be a part of such a supportive community. Within that group among those willing workers there was also what seemed to me like a supernatural yearning for something beyond the enthusiasm, the lively singing, the ball games and small groups, etc. This yearning was kind of ironic because outwardly there was nothing missing. We were a bunch of young families with lots of noisy kids and teenagers along with many activities providing a fine opportunity for me to write some nice pastoral reports the first year or so. The environment was anything but silent. We made a lot of noise and I think I preached quite well among all of that. Yet several within our hardworking deacons group were advocating for something deeper.

Being a hard worker myself, and also kind of socially apt, able to hold up my end of conversations both loud or quiet, I sensed this ‘voice’ among us was probably of God, needed to be heeded. That is how we became acquainted with the story of Church of the Savior. In short order there were some of us, along with a number of persons in other churches of similar interest, participating in Silent Retreats with resource persons from that unique church all the way down there in D.C. I still don’t know who paid travel expenses for the resource person because the retreat costs were quite reasonable (Probably a supportive benefactor or two writing a few good cheques). At any rate these retreats I believe became a godsend for our congregation. It is within silence that we began to listen more deeply to one another. It enabled us to hear one another and it provided confidence for those leaders working with the pastor to do what needed doing, even modeling considerable transparency including both pains and inspirations. There was a growing comfort in being with one another regardless of what was being spoken or not spoken. We began to experience some faith commitments and requests for baptism and membership even from those who still had considerable questions. They became members of a church still in formation. The church started to grow!

As the pastor I was encountering a mysterious paradox. The congregation included a considerable portion of persons who liked proclamation, ie strong unapologetic evangelical preaching, as well as those desiring a more meditative liturgical worship experience. I found these both personally acceptable, actually quite comfortable in both worlds 😀 fully convinced that Jesus’ powerful teachings and miracle works came out of essential quiet times (Mark 1:35; Matt 26:36) this also with good O.T. support (Isaiah 32:7) as well as N.T. epistles (eg Eph 5:21; 1 Pet 5:5). Both ends of this preference spectrum seemed to be acceptable in our fellowship - even for the ones of no fixed opinion! Services were always planned carefully by pastor working with rotating worship leaders as appointed by a worship committee. In hindsight I attribute the church’s early growth to the people’s comfort with both ‘holy preaching’ and ‘holy quiet'.

Silence is still a mysterious go-to this many years later. Many churches are now in the empty pew syndrome. Even as Sunday morning attendance is waning I observe some hints of longevity, which seem to be new discovery or possible recovery thanks to ... silence! For instance, a women’s group in our church continues with a recently identified clarification that they love to sit with, to be with one another – actually a book study which includes sharing which grows out of quiet. This method of being together seems to be surviving pandemics or leadership variations or styles or what have you. Interestingly the church in Acts at its beginning experienced that very thing (see Acts 2:46-47). This is a usable transferable reality: My son’s mother-in-law meets weekly with a group of fellow seniors in Peterborough, ON. Pandemic Zoom meetings only strengthened their commitment and belief in God’s presence in their Friday meetings – always beginning with silence, and nobody ever getting anxious even with long stretches of no chinwag. What emerges out of the quiet is always gratefully received and considered, not lectures or debate but up-building one another.  Humor is there, but it shows up naturally, not because of noisy entertainers. It’s been a pleasure to join them several times.

Retirement involvements here in Calgary have brought me into the world of Interfaith, including city-wide participation in a yearly Worldwide Interfaith Harmony Week, regular meetings of Sacred Text discussions, and varieties of joint service projects. These all provide excellent opportunity to ‘be’ with one another even alongside considerable difference of worship requirements and styles including current and historic differences. These have become for me a fresh occasion to remember the things discovered during those early years in Edmonton. No matter the location or the decade, God, Allah, Creator is  present with and among us all. 

Recently our local grouping of this Calgary Interfaith Council enjoyed a potluck meal for any who wished to share food items for a Food Pantry for students in a Catholic University located in our neighborhood. The gathering seemed to be sacred quite beyond our various orthodoxies or even orthopraxis. Interfaith experiences provide opportunity for what I would call holy quietude with new friends (old friends?) ironically also including clergy from the Roman Church, that same denomination of colonialism so critiqued by so many here in Canada these days. I have come to appreciate the blessed thoughtfulness, some humility and the healthy participation of this Church in exemplary ways in our communities (cf my blogpost "Using the Church", April 13, 2022). Let those of us in our churches without sin (John 8:7) cast the first stone. And the Indigenous? Always fully present and onsite, to wit: an ordained United Church Minister from the Chinook Winds Region, simply one of the gang.

I conclude with some reflection gleaned during the years toward the end of my pastoral ministry when I retreated to the safety of wide open highways as a longhaul trucker. Actually this was a retreat into what I mention above – what I had tasted early in my profession. Although I received professional mental health assistance to navigate a considerable mid-life decision, I knew my best therapy was going to be connected to what I had learned in those earlier years of pastoral ministry. My mental health needed silence. Even as I envisioned endless highway miles, I knew I would not survive driving team. I did not need a driving partner, especially not a yappy one. I needed the silence of a quiet obedient truck, which is why in short order, with the assistance of my financially astute wife, we purchased the needed truck. The spiritual journey was able to continue for another 20 years until retirement! Had I not identified that early need for silence I would not have recovered as I did. Also, I know this was a key to my enjoyment of life in this present ministry of retirement.

²⁶ I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them and I in them.” (John 17:26)