Finding Your Voice in the Silence

Here is a little piece by my favourite farmer poet, always a farmer first Wendell Berry, “The Silence”

“The Silence” by Wendell Berry

Though the air is full of singing
my head is loud
with the labor of words.

Though the season is rich
with fruit, my tongue
hungers for the sweet of speech.

Though the beech is golden
I cannot stand beside it
mute, but must say

‘It is golden,’ while the leaves
stir and fall with a sound
that is not a name.

It is in the silence
that my hope is, and my aim.
A song whose lines

I cannot make or sing
sounds men’s silence
like a root. Let me say

and not mourn: the world
lives in the death of speech
and sings there.

I was chatting with my friend Michael the other day, struggling with my throat but still finding it hard not to speak. I was recalling a conversation I had with a few family members at my cousin Cheryl’s funeral. Our Sammie was talking about how we were as children, in our large complicated family. She was talking about how quiet I was, a gentle sort really and how often many of the others would torment and pick on me for this. She was contrasting this with the person I am today who often does the public speaking on behalf of family. It is not that I was a mute as a child, its just that the others were far more boisterous and loud. In fact I was a talker from a very young age, as my mum always says I could talk before I could walk, she means hold a conversation as a toddler. It must have been a strange sight to behold. I just tended to be quiet when all the others were around, to be honest this is still usually the case. My friend Michael made a humourous response to my perceived childhood silence saying “Well you have certainly made up for it since.” He was suggesting that I usually have something to say about things. I told him afterwards that he had just made it into this weeks sermon, which as you can see he has.

I continued the conversation with Michael saying that actually I often keep quiet. In fact I reckon that sometimes in life I have kept silent when perhaps I should speak up more . That in recent times I am endeavouring to speak up more at the appropriate time, to address the inbalance. I then quoted Ecclesiastes “There is a time to speak and a time to be silent.” The key, as it usually is, is discerning when that is, to unearth the wisdom to know the difference.

Now of course part of my role as a minister is public speaking. My voice is an important tool of the trade. I remember being taught how important it is to take care of your voice. Well last Sunday I was really struggling with my voice. I had developed a head cold and by Sunday it had moved into my throat. By the end of the day I could hardly speak at all. The early part of this week has been a struggle. I have rested, taken appropriate medicine, a dear friend even left some lemon and honey on my doorstep. Been quite painful as I have gone about my usual duties. I went to bed in Tuesday night still in some pain, I even woke in the night still struggling to swallow. I awoke again at about 5.15am to find Molly resting her neck and little head across my throat. I don’t know how long she had been laid like this. It was strange to find myself laid on my back as I usually sleep on my side. As she lay there I felt no pain. After about 20 minutes she moved away and I noticed that I could swallow without pain. I have been able to do so since. Now please do not get me wrong I am not claiming a miracle here. I do though feel like she blessed me and I was able to speak freely again. This is a good thing as I did have a speaking engagement that evening. So thank you Molly, thank you to the friend who left the honey and lemon, thank you to paracetamol, thank you throaties pastilles and thank you to those kind souls who have let me rest my voice.

This all got me thinking about speaking, how important it is to do, after all it is our primary way of communicating with each other. Not constantly of course, but to use your words wisely and appropriately, to have a voice, to find your voice. This means it is important to listen appropriately too, to have your ears awake in the silence. I know I am at my best when I find my voice in the silence, when I listen with the ears of my heart and speak my truth in love.

I am amused by my friend Michael’s comment about making up for being quiet, his suggestion that if anything I talk too much. His suggestion that I am somewhat loquacious. It reminded me of the following tale I recently came across.

Pianist Artur Rubenstein, loquacious in eight languages, once told this story on himself: Some years ago he was assailed by a stubborn case of hoarseness. The newspapers were full of reports about smoking and cancer; so he decided to consult a throat specialist. "I searched his face for a clue during the 30 minute examination," Rubenstein said, "but it was expressionless. He told me to come back the next day. I went home full of fears, and I didn't sleep that night." The next day there was another long examination and again an ominous silence. "Tell me," the pianist exclaimed. "I can stand the truth. I've lived a full, rich life. What's wrong with me?" The physician said, "You talk too much."

Maybe Michael is right, is this why I have been having throat problems? Do I talk too much?

It is an interesting question. The truth is that when I am in the company of most people I spend most of the time listening, it is other people who do most of the talking. This is as it should be in my line of work. The key is that when I do speak I do so generally in a thoughtful way.

It is important to be thoughtful when we do speak, about what we say and how we say it. We live in age where everyone has an opinion about everything and freely expresses it. Sometimes with true knowledge and or consideration of those who are listening to it. Social media gives everyone a captive audience. What we say and how we say will always have an impact. I know people listen to me, not everyone obviously, so I need to be careful, even when being humorous. We need to listen, to take in even the silence, to absorb and then speak truth in love. It brings to mind the following story told by Rami Shapiro in “Minyan: Ten Principles for Living a Life of Integrity”

"There is a Hasidic story about a town gossip. This fellow thoughtlessly told and retold stories about others that brought them shame. The town's rabbi met with the man and confronted him with his words. The man was stunned. He had no idea he was spreading such hurt. He broke into tears and begged the rabbi for help. 'There must be something I can do to atone for the wickedness I have done.'

"The rabbi instructed the man to take four pillows out into a field. Once there he was to slice open each pillow with a knife and shake its feathers into the wind. The man thanked the rabbi and rushed off to do as he was told. He purchased four fine feather pillows and cut them open in the field, watching as the feathers scattered in every direction.

"He returned to the rabbi to let him know he had completed his penance.'Not quite,' said the rabbi. 'Now go back to the field and retrieve the feathers.'

" 'But that is impossible,' said the man. 'The winds have taken them everywhere.'

" 'It is the same with your words,' the rabbi said gravely. 'Just as you cannot retrieve the feathers once spilled, so you cannot withdraw words once spoken. No matter how sincerely you desire to undo what you have done, the harm caused by thoughtless speech cannot be rectified.' "

To Practice: Monitor your words so that they do not set in motion harmful things. And when they do, ask for forgiveness.

It also reminds me of the “Three Fold Test” for right speech. According to this test there are three things that we ought to ask ourselves before speaking:

Is it kind?

Is it true?

Is it necessary?

Sometimes silence, not saying anything is the best option. We do not always have to fill every second with words, silence can be golden, we do not live on the radio. There is a time to speak and a time to be silent. Being silent is not a passive thing, it is an opportunity to listen. This is an active thing if we truly pay attention to what others are saying, if take in what they say and absorb their words. It will hopefully inform how we speak and act in this world.

As a minister of religion I need to be very careful in my choice of words. There are warnings about this in the third chapter of the book of James in the New Testament. As he points out preaching and teaching are dangerous professions and any misuses of the tongue by a teacher is judged with extra strictness. He also says that the tongue is a fire. And even a small spark, a tiny hint of a flame, can burn down a whole forest.

I need to be very careful, skilful in what I say, people listen to me.

I must be mindful not to do what they said of Lenny Bruce “He uses words as weapons to hit people over the head with”. We all need to speak our truth in love, but we need to do so mindfully.

We must never underestimate the power of words as well as the power of silence.

There is a time to speak and a time to be silent, the key is knowing when that is and to use our time wisely and with love. We must never lose our voice, it is important that we find our voice. Sometimes the best place to find your voice is in the silence, when we truly listen to that still small voice that can only be heard in deep silence.

So listen with the ears of your hearts to one another and to yourself and when you need please do speak your truth in love, for our world needs us to.

Please find below a video devotion based

 on the material in this "blogspot"

Finding Your Voice: Learning to speak the language of the heart

Unitarian College Manchester recently asked me to answer the following question, in just a couple of sentences.

“What aspect(s) of your training or time at UCM has made the most significant or positive contribution to your work as a Unitarian minister?”

A difficult question and this is what I finally came up with.

 “For me it has been about finding and refinding my voice. This happened throughout my training, where I continually found myself forming and reforming, while discovering ways to articulate this. This was difficult at times, but I know it has shaped me for the better."

My journey into ministry has been about finding and refinding my voice.

I now look back fondly on my early days of training, but at the time it was a struggle. I was thrown into several unfamiliar environments, while at the same time I had lost the security of my home congregation at Cross Street. The first few months were very painful as I struggled with my identity. I felt quite exposed and vulnerable at times. Everything I said and did seemed to be under scrutiny. It was tough, but then again so it should be. Thank God for prayer. It held me and it sustained me throughout this period, has it has for many years.

I had to go through this in order to discover and rediscover who I was. I had to examine and re-examine my faith and learn to articulate it. I also had to really listen to what others were saying, to know where they were coming from, to respect them as they were and to learn how to communicate with them. I had to find ways to walk in their shoes, while still remaining true to me.

The first few months were the most challenging, but by the Christmas of my first year things began to change. I found my voice. I was able to be myself and was able to begin to communicate this to others with more confidence. I felt increasingly at ease and less nervous and was able to speak my truth in love. I became less defensive and precious about my personal religious convictions. Put simply I began to loosen up. I found my voice.

The ability to speak publically is a vital tool of ministry, so if a minister loses their voice or ability to speak their effectiveness would be seriously compromised. Well just this did happen to one of the two father’s of British Unitarianism, Joseph Priestley.  For many years Dr Priestley struggled with a stammer.

I have a personal affection for Priestley, which has nothing much to do with his actual achievements. No I have affection for Priestley because he comes from Birstall, in West Yorkshire, where I grew up and he attended Batley Grammar School, where I went. There the comparisons end I’m afraid. I have never been a leading radical, politically and I have never been particularly scientifically minded.

The stammer has been brought into the public consciousness in recent times, due to the success of “The Kings Speech.” During the film King George VI struggles to overcome his stammer, with the help of a highly unconventional speech therapist. The treatment began long before he became King. In fact he was never expected to become the King at all. He never sought the limelight. He had little self confidence and no doubt his stammer contributed greatly to this. I am sure he would have been happy living the quiet life with his wife and two daughters. This though was not meant to be, as life events dictated otherwise, as they so often do. Following the death of his father and the abdication of his brother  he was thrown into the limelight and into a position that did not suit this quiet reserved individual.

The film portrayed how he came to terms with himself and his new life. He found his voice. It spoke powerfully to me in this respect as well as in the sense that it beautifully portrayed how we humans can overcome obstacles with courage and faith and the right kind of guidance.

Dr Priestley struggled with a stammer for years. It must have been terribly difficult to preach with such an impediment. Like the king he did overcome it as it did not affect his later career. That said it did cause him much distress although, as he said, it saved him from being “seduced by the love of popular applause as a preacher”

My tradition lays great emphasis on the word and the preaching of it. Ok today we may not place authority at the door of scripture, this has been replaced by the conscience of the individual. That said the preached word, articulated correctly is still central to our worship.

Is this though the most important element?

Many people can speak well and articulately. I myself have had some training, but I know I will never be perfect and absolutely clear. I do not wish to be. I need to remain true to who I am, to speak my truth in love and in a language that hopefully others will understand.

To truly minister people need to hear what my heart and soul has to say. I need to speak the language of the heart, but not from someone else’s book of life and experiences. No! These experiences must come from my own; otherwise how can I expect others to relate to what I have to say.

I hope that by continually finding my voice I am able to encourage others to do likewise and that they in turn continue to speak their truth in love.

Isn’t that what ministry is all about?