I’ve noticed that when I preach, there are two forms of silence that I can hear from the pulpit (which makes me realize how bizarre it is that we can hear silence, but anyway)…
One is an empty silence. It’s like everyone has left the room, even though they remain in their seats.
(This is not good.)
The other kind of silence is a pregnant silence. It’s teeming with presence - and not just the presence of those gathered. There’s a moreness in the room. The Spirit, Herself, shows up.
(This is not just good. It is transcendent.)
Maybe you can feel this, too, even if you’re not a preacher. Maybe you hear the difference between these forms of silence around the dinner table, in the board room, or at coffee with a friend.
You can hear it in the gaps of the conversation...
Are these gaps vacant?
Do they widen the distance between you?
Or are they full of transcendent presence?
Do they bring you into communion with each other and the Ground of Being itself?
I don’t think it’s possible to manufacture the latter. All we can do is wait for it and celebrate it when it happens.
In Joy,
Jonas+