Looking into the dark mouth of the New Year there is much to fear, there always is: The greedy ever-reaching claws of the tax man, the nuclear football in the hands of a trigger-happy President, a hot weapon being pointed at a crowd of people by an unhinged, unhappy loner, and of course there always is the sharpened gleaming edge of the Grim Reaper’s sickle. While those fears may be real, and terrifying, they are mostly distant shadows. A foreboding mist that appears in the dark corners of the mind on a lonely night. But the rays of the morning sun send them running the next day.

But there is a fear that lurks and lingers in the hearts of men and women, boy and girls, non-binaries and genderqueers every day. It is a fear that seems harmless, nothing to concern yourself about, no big deal. Yet, you and I avoid this fear like the plague.

This unspoken fear is silence.

Look around. We live an insanely noisy world. Televisions, phones, ipads –  small screens, big screens, tall screens, flat screens, handheld screens – constantly blaring and flickering everywhere we go. Moment by moment, every day, every minute. We are told that people are bored, so electronics fill in the gaps. Or we are all lonely so our device becomes our bosom buddy. An instant friend at the click of a button, or swipe of a screen.

But I think our need for noise has more to do with fear. People are scared of being alone with themselves. We are uncomfortable with silence. It scares us.

Sounds silly. Why would anyone be scared of silence? What about Paul Simon and Disturbed? Don’t they welcome the music of silence when they sing their haunting ode…

Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again 

But this is not a celebration of silence, but rather it is a reaffirmation of the inability of people to listen to the words shouted in the silence. Oh yes, there are many words that scream and pound in the rhythm of the silence. That is why there is constant fear because the words spoken in the hush and gentle breeze of a quiet morning land on our chest like a lead weight. Listen to how the brilliant writer Frederick Buechner explains silence’s power to speak:

“A particular truth can be stated in words…but Truth itself is another matter. The truth that Pilate asked for when he questioned Jesus, ‘What is truth?’ Jesus remained silent because Truth cannot be stated.  Truth simply is...Before it is a word, the Gospel that is truth is silence, a pregnant silence in its ninth month, and in answer to Pilate’s question, Jesus keeps silent.”

He continues,

“Before the Gospel is a word, it is silence…It is life with the sound turned off so that for a moment or two you can experience it not in terms of the words you make it bearable by but for the unutterable mystery that is. Let him say, ‘Be silent and know that I am God, saith the Lord’ (Ps. 46:10). Be silent and know that even by my silence and absence I am known. Be silent and listen to the stones cry out.”

Here in these words is the answer to silence’s dread – – it is in the silence God often speaks the loudest! Turn off your screen, go outside and look up in the stars. And then listen. You will hear his voice. Psalm 19:1-4 says the speech of the sky is blaring in our ears, day after day. Verse 4-6 says the sun’s roar is deafening. You can’t avoid it, you can’t go anywhere where it is not speaking.

I will never forget when God really screamed at me in the silence. I was a failing salesman, reeling after another rejection. I was near the Lake Erie shoreline on a frigid January afternoon and I decided to drive to the see the ice form on the surface of the water.

It was amazing. Ice was stacked for miles like a spilled bag of frozen chips lying across the shore. Everywhere I looked giant flakes of blue and white lay silent. Looking out on the horizon while my face felt the burn of freezing wind, I heard him. A pregnant whisper, “Chris, what are you doing on this earth?”

That’s it. But as I stood there shivering I was forced to listen. I felt so small looking over the endless expanse of scattered ice. Silence made me face the facts: Either I was made by a good God, or I was a hapless castaway lost in a senseless universe, no more significant than a piece of frozen water. Something began to stir in me, and it was the silence that first made listen.

How about you? What do you hear in the silence? Are you brave enough to turn off that device and listen? It takes time to clear the noise so you can hear. Don’t let fear stop you.