Good Noise, Bad Noise and Silence

It’s been a noisy weekend.

On Saturday afternoon Son-Pete and I went to Norwich to watch the football. Twenty-six thousand enthusiastic fans expressed their pleasure and displeasure loudly.

In the evening, at Daughter-Jo’s fiftieth birthday party, there was music, and laughter. I’m aware of my inappropriate prejudice, but Jo’s friends… middle-aged women… are well-skilled at communicating with significant volume.

Yesterday morning at church the singing, guitars, keyboard and percussion created enthusiastic and joyfully loud worship.

Then we enjoyed a family meal. Eleven of us, catching up with each other’s news, appreciating each other’s company, exchanging opinions, could only be noisy.

It was a noisy weekend – but all good noise.

There’s also bad noise.

Yesterday in churches, by war memorials across the country, we remembered men and women who lost their lives serving in the two world wars and other conflicts… those who had heard the dreadful noise of bombs and bullets.

Meanwhile war continues in Ukraine and the Middle East. We see it on the news; we hear the noise of continuing bombs and bullets… accompanied by the sounds of personal horror, grief and bereavement.

And closer to home, behind closed doors, on our streets, the sounds of hatred and incitement, anger and argument, abuse and violence, are heard all too frequently.

On Saturday after the party, yesterday after the family had gone, it was good to sit quietly…

At the football on Saturday, in church yesterday, we observed two minutes respectful silence, remembering…

Yesterday Minister-Lou encouraged us to practice silence, quoting the Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard: ‘If I could prescribe only one remedy for all the ills of the modern world, I would prescribe silence.’

I’m used to a noisy world… enjoying the good noise of laughter, music and conversation… saddened by the bad noise of hatred, anger and war. Kierkegaard also said: ‘I found I had less and less to say, until finally, I became silent, and began to listen. I discovered in the silence, the voice of God.’

I’m still learning about silence.