Hi all,
Have you ever been to a desert? There isn’t a lot there but rocks, sand, and a few plants. It is tan in color and seems to go on forever. It is bland. It is like a bowl of porridge. There is nothing visually to distract you, and there is no noise other than the occasional bird. Its beauty lies in its starkness. The dry desert wilderness experience is a place of silence, of being alone to look around, contemplate, and be alone with our thoughts.
Silence has long been a cornerstone of Judaism. The priests performed their duties in the temple in silence. When they sacrificed an animal or grain, it was in silence. By contrast, other religions focus on chants, gongs, songs, prayers and such as their priests perform their duties. Rabbi Abahu said when God gave the Commandments to Moses all the people were silent, and even the world fell silent. Fasting words has long been part of Judaism and Christianity – Monks in particular are known to practice vows of silence.
When the prophet Elijah was in the cave after his confrontation with the prophets of Baal, he encountered God not in the whirlwind, fire, or the earthquake, but in the ‘still small voice’. In Hebrew; kol demamah dakah, literally “the sound of a slender silence.” You can only hear Him when you aren’t talking. When you aren’t praising. When you aren’t praying.
Many have discovered they have been created to hear His voice in a particular place and setting of the mind. Perhaps it is while working in the garden, perhaps out in nature, perhaps in a hot shower or bath. It seems the Lord meets us there and in our ignorance we may think He likes a particular location. But the truth is that is the place we shift to neutral, when all other distractions have been shut out. First we become aware of His presence, then His Words.
Two parts to hearing
When I’m in my office at home there are many times I can hear Barb elsewhere in the house calling out to me. But I can’t understand what she is saying – I hear her voice, I know she is saying something, but I can’t make out the words. I have to get closer to her to understand. In Hebrew the speaker is ‘Medaber’, and that which is spoken is the ‘medubar’.
How many times do we perceive in our spirit a leading, then our mind argues against it and we do our own thing, only to later realize that was the Lord? We heard the voice and maybe understood the basics of the instruction, but decided to do it the way our minds told us. Both parts are required – first hear that He is speaking, then perceiving what He is communicating. With the Lord, He can download a whole chapter that we find difficult to put into words because the revelation is so vast and connects so many ‘dots’ in our life.
But it all started with silence. It is in that silence we know we are loved, embraced, and heard. We aren’t alone. But that awareness is subtle, in our spirit, that still, small voice that is sometimes nothing more than a deep peace inside. But it is enough, if we let it be enough. There is such richness, such depth in just sensing His presence, that once noticed, it is like stepping through the gates of a great estate. There is too much to explore all at once, and we want to sit and soak and take it all in – such is His presence in our spirit we perceive in the midst of silence.
Consider….
God spoke the universe into existence. Therefore prayers are important. But in between His words and ours, are moments of silence. We put a period at the end of a sentence to mark silence, the end of speaking. We put an exclamation mark at the end of a sentence to emphasize a point or emotion. But at the end of that period or exclamation mark is a space of silence. Words are important to prayer, but silence is equally important. Without silence between words we would not know the meaning of the words.
The darkness between the stars in the night sky gives them definition and dimension. The time-out in a sporting event is the silence between the action, which provides for thought, planning, and defines what next happens in the game. We slow down our speech in solemn moments like weddings and funerals, to allow periods of silence for contemplation. We cannot have words unless we also have silence in between them. It is by the absence of words that we know silence. “Be still and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10.
The word ‘selah’ is used 71 times in 39 Psalms, and has been the source of great debate as to its meaning. It was used to indicate a pause much the way a fermata is used when writing sheet music today. A fermata is called a birds eye or cyclops eye because it is a dot with a brow over it. It means to pause after the note is held at the discretion of the performer or musician.
The root of ‘selah’ similarly means ‘to pause’ or ‘to suspend’ or ‘to hang’. Without a selah at the end of a verse a person would just go blindly on to the next verse without stopping in silence to contemplate the point just made. How often do we feel led or have a sense of the Lord’s direction and we just go on about our business without taking the time to selah, to pause, to hang on that last word, that last revelation we had? Receive that rhema, then go back and chew on it a bit more, getting every bit of spiritual nourishment.
Prayer is the vehicle by which our requests are carried, silence transports us into His presence.
Culture teaches us silence is a void to be filled. In media ‘dead air’ is a no-no. They must fill the silence with words and/or pictures. Silence is a void. Silence is equated with loneliness. Therefore our prayers tend to blend in with all the other sounds out there, and it becomes difficult to perceive the Shepherd’s voice among the many. We must stop listening to those other voices until we get to the point His voice stands alone in the silence.
But in Christ, silence has substance. Silence requires two parts: Silencing the tongue, and silencing the soul. Silence of the tongue opens the door to silence of the soul. It also opens the door to love, empathy, reflection and personal course adjustments. They go together as above, you cannot define words but by the silence in between, so too you cannot truly define your walk with God without periods of silence. But silence is all too often forgotten. We tell God what we want, we declare, we war, we proclaim, we, we, we. How in the world can we ever expect to hear from our Father and Lord if we do all the talking? Learn silence.
One rabbi has said: “The cry one holds back is the most powerful of all.” Another observed: “A fast from words has greater transformational power than a fast from food.” In the wilderness, consider times of silence. In your prayer life, make sure to give equal time to silence. It is how I have lived for decades now, and I’m convinced one reason the revelations keep flowing. In times when I’ve felt the need for more revelation, I ask the Father what Paul asked of Him for the Ephesians in 1: 17-19: “Father, please give me the Spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of you, that the eyes of my understanding would be enlightened to know the depth of the invitation you extend to me.”
In the wilderness the cloud is right there. His miracles are right there. See them. Think about them. Perhaps like the priests, have a time you perform your duties in silence, to contemplate your heart, for the wilderness is not there to test you for evil, but to prove what He knows is inside of you, so you can know it too. THEN in strength you will come out of the wilderness stronger than before. Wilderness is just a moment in your eternal life, don’t make it a lifetime.
New subject next week, until then, blessings,
John Fenn
