snow and silence.

Snow at the seminary in Philadelphia, March 2009.

The post below is one I originally wrote for a personal blog on March 2, 2009.  But walking downtown last night in the heavy snow I recalled this reflection, and offer it for your devotion.

You know how, when it snows heavily, especially at night it seems to me, the snow blocks out the sound of life that usually pulses through wherever you are? But when it snows and you're outside of it, there is this silence, here I notice not hearing the road noises and finding my mind somehow more open. The world seems to move differently when it snows (more so than the obvious complications), and people seem to act quieter. I am thankful for the couple good snows we have had here this winter in Philly. (Though I must say I am jealous that CCPS finally got a snow day after I worked there for three years without!)

My parents' driveway in Virginia, and their dog, Chauncey.

I like silence a whole lot. This snow is reminding me how I need to be more vigilant about practicing silence as a part of my daily life. I think I take it for granted. I mean, I go to weekday chapel services, plus matins and compline pretty muc

h every weekday, and silence is always at least a small part of those. But there is more to it. There is something to be found in the silence. As the snowflakes fell fast and furious as if angrily, I thought about breathing. I have had a very bad cold the last few days, and the silence, snow, and sharply cold air feels especially oppressive at times. . . Silence is hard, but one thing I've felt I'm here to learn is how to breathe in silence. It's not always comfortable, but that's ok. Leading more silently is also something I'm slowly learning.

This made me think about how God breathes for us in and through the silence. So walking in the snow, I thought about these verses in 1 Kings, when the LORD comes, in the silence:
(1 Kings 19:9 - 20:19)

At that place he came to a cave, and spent the night there. Then the word of the LORD came to him, saying, "What are you doing here, Elijah?" 10 He answered, "I have been very zealous for the LORD, the G

od of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away." 11 He said, "Go out and stand on the mountain before the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by." Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake; 12 and after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. 13 When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then there came a voice to him that said, "What are you doing here, Elijah?" 14 He answered, "I have been very zealous for the LORD, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away." 15 Then the LORD said to him, "Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus; when you arrive, you shall anoint Hazael as king over Aram. 16 Also you shall anoint Jehu son of Nimshi as king over Israel; and you shall anoint Elisha son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah as prophet in your place. 17 Whoever escapes from the sword of Hazael, Jehu shall kill; and whoever escapes from the sword of Jehu, Elisha shall kill. 18 Yet I will leave seven thousand in Israel, all the knees that have not bowed to Baal, and every mouth that has not kissed him."


19 So he set out from there, and found Elisha son of Shaphat, who was plowing. There were twelve yoke of oxen ahead of him, and he was with the twelfth. Elijah passed by him and threw his mantle over him. 20 He left the oxen, ran after Elijah, and said, "Let me kiss my father and my mother, and then I will follow you." Then Elijah said to him, "Go back again; for what have I done to you?" 21 He returned from following him, took the yoke of oxen, and slaughtered them; using the equipment from the oxen, he boiled their flesh, and gave it to the people, and they ate. Then he set out and followed Elijah, and became his servant.

Sheer silence. So powerful. Elijah's plea he repeats here is one of lonliness, of seeking God as true refuge. And God comes in the sheer silence. God's words to Elijah are here first a question - one that I feel is extremely central to us in our lives of faith - "What are you doing here?"

I am excited to study the Hebrew Scriptures in more depth and learn about this passage. So what comes to me about this passage is my own reflection, not that out of learning. The word of the Lord directs Elijah to witness the Lord passing by, and then there are a handful of natural events. Then, the sheer silence. How perfect in its completeness that must be! The silence of snow here doesn't match it but maybe in a lone meadow somewhere where the snow is so full. . . I think we are most honest with ourselves in the silence - in feeling our emotions there. Think about it. When a movie is at a tense/climactic point and there is a pause or a hold of silence, we feel. When we are in a deep conversation with a loved one or get a phone call or tragic news and the words stop, we feel most fully. That is where at least I feel my heart and mind resound and push me. I want to experience and practice this silence more. To be more present.

And yet back to the news. Local news spent more than 2 minutes in a half-hour broadcast showing a man in a green spandex bodysuit sledding and being goofy. The snow brings forth these newscasts focused on it as if it is the only thing. The silence of the snow falling brings the central focus of the news being these very simple, joyous, non-earth-shattering things: sledding, people getting their cars stuck, which sleds/hills are the best, school closings/delays. And I know that there is joy is this. (I know as I felt it crushed in those many days I didn't have snow cancellations of school as a teacher.) But I also feel the silence. There is some kind of deafening silence in the news reports, even the national news, that talk about not-so-atypical weather and continue their silence on the sadness and tragic state of much of the aspects of our world. I admit that I do not always daily go out looking for the hard news, the sad news of the world.

I guess overall it comes down to this. I thank God for a world in which snow can seem so amazing that joy flows and we are so blessed as to only think and talk about that. But I also thank God for the prayerful silences when I am called to consider everything but those simple joys, but in that silence the suffering and struggles of myself and others. In those silences, we ask ourselves naturally what God asked Elijah - "What are you doing here?"

So, what are you doing here?