Braving the Tranquil Sea of Silence

Brad Sullivan

Good Friday, Year C

March 25, 2016

Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX

John 18:1-19:42

Braving the Tranquil Sea of Silence

Silence.  That what is called for often in our liturgy, silence.  Silence can be the sound of prayer, the sound of relaxing and taking a break for a while.  After a long day and once the kids are to bed and before binge watching Netflix or reading starts, it can be very healing to sit in silence for a few minutes.  Silence gives our brains time to unwind.  Silence allows us to notice our breathing and to marvel at the miracle of our lives, our bodies, the presence of God around us and within us.  Silence can be the sound and the sounds of life without the noise of everything else.

Silence can be a beautiful thing.  Silence can also bring to the surface things we’d rather keep buried.  Silence brings a void, and inevitably something will come to fill that void, often the memories we’d rather than deal with, the decisions which haunt us, the scars left by others.  In the tranquil sea of silence we see peace and beauty, but with pain and death lurking just beneath the surface. 

Perhaps that is why silence is so rarely sought.  Silence beckons to us, invites us to sail upon her waters, and yet we often dare not even approach the shore for fear of what may come forth, and so we draw back from the tranquil sea, retreating once again into the forest of voices and noise, hiding in the din of life, hiding from the truth that would otherwise rend our hearts.

As Simon and Garfunkel wrote in The Sound of Silence:

            And in the naked light I saw

Ten thousand people, maybe more.

People talking without speaking,

People hearing without listening,

People writing songs that voices never share

And no one dared

Disturb the sound of silence.

Silence is the sound of death.  Silence was the sound of Jesus tomb cut out of the rock.  Silence was the sound of Jesus’ body without the movement of breath, without the flow of blood, without the beating of his heart.  Silence was the only sound that was left when the sins of all humanity were poured out upon Jesus.  The author of life had been killed, taking upon himself the judgment due to all of humanity, and the Word of God which spoke the words “Let there be light,” in the beginning of creation was left was left in silence.

As humanity ran back into the forest of noise and distraction, Jesus sailed the sea of silence and then left the boat, only this time he did not walk on the sea, he sank down, swallowed up by all that lay beneath, and left the sea tranquil and calm as before. 

We know that Jesus was resurrected a few short days after his death.  We know that Jesus left the sea of silence, and yet, Jesus is still there, along with all of sins of humanity, the memories we’d rather than deal with, the decisions which haunt us, the scars left by others.  Jesus is there in the silence inviting us to face what we’d rather not face, inviting us to look into the face of the demons within. 

Jesus is inviting us to trust him, to follow him into the silence, to join with him there in the silence of his tomb, and to trust that he will bring us out with him as well, giving us new life with him.  First, however, we have to face the silence of his tomb.  We have to brave the waters of that tranquil sea and to face what lurks beneath.  We have to go down into the sea of silence.  Amen.