Moved to Silence
Can you think of a moment when life has left you speechless—and can you think of a moment that someone (maybe you) spoiled by talking?
In the gospels we read that one day Jesus took his friends Peter, James, and John to a mountain. While they were there, Jesus “was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became white as light” (Matthew 17:2). The friends saw, to their astonishment, ancient heroes Moses and Elijah standing with and speaking with Jesus. This experience was beyond anything they could have imagined, anticipated, or hoped for when they got out of bed that morning. Why did Jesus orchestrate this moment? Why did he choose them to witness it? What did it mean?
Peter—no doubt humbled, amazed, and inspired—feels the need to say something. Something to show that he appreciates what Jesus is doing. Something to show he gets it. In the narrative, we can almost sense him fumbling for words.
“Lord,” he begins. “It’s good for us to be here. If you wish, I can make some tents….”
While he is still speaking, a bright cloud overshadows them, and a voice from the cloud says:
“This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased. Listen to him.” Matthew 17:5
The voice of God literally cuts Peter off: Stop talking, and listen to my son!
By talking, by turning the moment toward himself and his words, Peter rushes through the experience. By trying to sound confident, he reveals his own ignorance.
But the Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth keep silence before him.
Habakkuk 2:20
In the Christmas story, a story with very little dialogue, we find people who listen more than they speak. Stepping back, we find places in scripture where humans are told to be silent in the presence of a holy God. It turns out that listening never makes us look ignorant. Silence can be humbling, but it can also be liberating.
In silence we accept that God is doing something, and we are called not to narrate it, but to witness it. We don’t have to know what to say. We don’t have to come up with anything profound. We don’t have to add anything to what God has already done. We can simply come, and be where Jesus is—as Mary does, as Joseph does, as the shepherds do… as Peter will do again and again.
You might not see anyone transfigured today. Or maybe you will: the Christmas season has a way of showing us beauty where we might otherwise see something—or someone—lowly, dusty, and plain. Keep your eyes open. Keep your mouth closed. And let an unexpected moment move you to silence.
Song: “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence” - Holy City Hymns
This song is part of our Silent Nights playlist on Spotify.