Saturday, January 20, 2007

Open our ears and loosen our tongues.

One morning this week as I was working at the support desk, being stretched more thinly than normal because of some staffing shortages, I got to see something in person that I’ve never seen before (not that that’s unusual at the Campus). There was a woman speaking in tongues. She had come in looking for a homeless gentleman she needed to give something to, but she could not find him. I figured she had left, but as I was trying to do a million other things I all of a sudden heard some passionate voices, which usually means trouble. This time it was prayer. It was a vigorous and loud and rocking kind of prayer that Presbyterians don’t usually pray (at least aloud in public). This woman was pulling participants aside and offering to pray with them. Her Pentecostal style of praying, with tongues that I’ve only heard on religious TV channels, was completely foreign to my experience as a Christian. I wasn’t sure what to make of this, and I’m still not.

Thursday evening, we went to an ecumenical worship service at Christ the King Catholic Church to celebrate the first day of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. The service was sponsored by Second Presbyterian, Christ the King and the Nashville Community of Sant’Egidio. Jim Kitchens and John McClure participated in the service’s leadership. The theme of this year’s international celebration is “Open our Ears and Loosen Our Tongues,” based on Mark 7:37 (“He even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.”) The service at Christ the King opened with three minutes of silence that began with this invitation:

Let us keep silence before God…silent within ourselves…opening our hearts to the silence of our sisters and brothers living in suffering: “if one member suffers, all suffer together” (1 Cor 12:26).
May our ears be opened by this silence in communion with those whose voice we do not hear, either because they keep silent or they are silenced. Let us hear the call of Christ to the suffering of others, placing us firmly as Christians of all confessions before our common responsibilities.


It was easy for me to conjure up the sounds of the silenced. Those are the sounds that I sometimes have a hard time shaking at the end of the day. My co-workers at the Campus and I have talked about how the dreams we have at night that are so often centered around the people we work with during the day. And though I usually don’t remember specifics about what I am dreaming about, what I usually do remember is being awakened by the noise of people yelling or calling my name.

There are big gaps between Christians. There are walls of silence such as the one between the conservative Pentecostals like the woman who was speaking tongues the other day and the liberal Presbyterians like me. Those walls exist between Christians who experience God in informal churches that meet in huge arenas and those who worship using ordered liturgies. There is silence between Christians for whom the primary task of faith is to convert others and those who see working toward social justice as the most important thing, and even those who land somewhere in the middle. What if in our silence, our ears could be opened, despite our many differences, to the cries of those who are our common responsibilities?

I still don’t understand why or how that woman at the Campus was speaking in tongues. But, I do know that she and I were there for the same reason: because God calls us all to hear the silenced, however feeble our efforts may be. May we all pray for a day when together, the body of Christ can join as the church with open ears and able to speak and live the good news together in a world that so deeply needs to hear it.

This was the final blessing given at the ecumenical service on Thursday night:

“As you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” Mt 25:40

“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” Mt 11:28

Dear friends, these words of Christ apply to each and every one of us. Christ is close to us in the heart of our actions, including our ecumenical actions, as well as in the suffering of the sick, the solitude and discouragement of many of us. He supports us in our weakness. He is our consolation and blessing.

Blessed be the Lord our God for the love which you have shown us
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
In him who loved us we are conquerors over hardship, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, peril and the sword.

In the silence of abandonment and solitude,
of sickness and death,
pour out the riches of your blessing,
that we may ever be more faithful to serve you
in our sisters and brothers,
and that our joy to do your will be ever greater.

We bless you and glorify you,
for you listen to the silence of our hearts.
You act within us with power, healing us and leading us
to speak in the name of Jesus, your Son.

Send us into the world to carry out your will
and to break down the walls of silence which separate us.
May we witness to you, our only Saviour,
being ever more united by “one faith and one baptism.”

And may we grow in grace
and in the peace of God which passes all understanding,
that your name may be glorified.
Amen.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Silence is hard for most people to deal with. Listening to silence is still harder, yet. Keep listening, Jeff. Thanks again for sharing your experiences.