Sound of silence

Julle is almal oud genoeg om te weet van Simon & Garfunkel. Een van hul treffers is die profetiese woorde van Sound of silence. Al die gepraat oor stilte nou die aand en die gebrek daaraan het my mooi laat dink oor die volgende Formatio-geleentheid op 22 Augustus. My hoop sal wees om die aand 'n bietjie meer van 'n liturgiese ervaring te wil maak en ek het vrymoedigheid om Fourie (die aanbieder en goeie vriend) hierin te begelei. Julle is welkom om julle idees met my te deel oor jul ervaring. My gevoel is dat daar te min inoefen op die aand self gebeur en dalk te veel lesing gegee word. Ek sal dus poog vir 'n gesonder ballans. Onthou dus om die datum op te teken en onthou ons gaan die grootste deel van die aand by die Kapel bymekaar wees.

Jy ken die melodie dalk so goed dat jy dit spontaan kan saamsing, maar hiermee die lirieke van Sound of silence. Dalk kan jy hieroor mediteer/reflekteer.

Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched 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

"Fools", said I, "You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you"
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
And echoed
In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls"
And whispered in the sounds of silence

Rond my tot my kern

'n Gebed wat ek die laaste vyf jaar al bid - met variasie op die tema - kom uit 'n gedig van C.M van den Heever (as ek reg onthou). Dalk kan dit ook vir jou van waarde wees:

Maak my klein,

maak my kis,

rond my tot my kern.

Ek wil ophou

dink,

weet,

redeneer.

Ek wil net wees

soos albasters oor die vloer.

Ikoon-Gebede 'n ander perspektief

Worstel jy ook nog met die ikoon-gebede? Hier is 'n gedagte oor ikoon-gebede vanaf die Taize gemeenskap. Jy kan dit lees op hul webwerf by http://www.taize.fr/en_article340.html 

In die lig van die onderstaande woorde, veral die aanhaling van Saint John Damascene, kom lê daar 'n rustigheid in my. Die ikoon as venster op die koninkryk. Die ikoon as simbole van die inkarnasie. Die ikoon as visuele geheue hulp. Die ikoon as 'n singtuiglike padvinder tussen al die spookasem(candy floss) wat ons oorgestimuleerde (lees oorweldigde) gees oorweldig en smoor. Langs hierdie ikoon-roete reis ek makliker want op hierdie manier word verskeie prentjies vir my ikone. Ek gaan deur my skatkis blaai en soek na nuwe ikone...die prentjie hier is een wat ek sommer dadelik aan dink: Dit is 'n foto wat ek grafies ontwerp het "Die kind is nie dood nie" en dit help my bid vir Afrika.

 

Natuurlik sal ek nie wil hê dat die ikone net by terloopse visuele wekkers moet vashaak nie. Steeds wil ek in 'n eenkant hoekie deur die dieptes van sekere ortodokse ikone worstel, my album word nou net 'n bietjie breër. Mag jy ook nuwe vensters en nuwe simbole sien en mag dit die hart van jou bewus-wees-van-God maseer.

Icons contribute to the beauty of worship. They are like windows open on the realities of the Kingdom of God, making them present in our prayer on earth.

Although icons are images, they are not simply illustrations or decorations. They are symbols of the incarnation, a presence which offers to the eyes the spiritual message that the Word addresses to the ears.

According to the eighth-century theologian Saint John Damascene, icons are based on the coming of Christ to earth. Our salvation is linked to the incarnation of the divine Word, and therefore to matter: “In the past, the incorporeal and invisible God was never represented. But now that God has been manifested in the flesh and has dwelt among men, I represent the visible in God. I do not adore matter; I adore the creator of matter, who has become matter for my sake, who chose to dwell within matter and who, through matter, has caused my salvation” (Discourse I,16).

By the faith it expresses, by its beauty and its depth, an icon can create a space of peace and sustain an expectant waiting. It invites us to welcome salvation even in the flesh and in creation.

Veni Creator Spiritus (Taize Gemeenskap)

Dit is Pinkster tyd en in die lig van Pinkster deel ek hierdie lied met julle vanuit die gebede skat van die Taize gemeenskap. Probeer dalk in 'n eenvoudige ritme kom om elke oggend voor werk hierna te luister. Die video materiaal is nou nie uitstaande nie. Dalk sal toe oë jou meer help om die asem van die musiek te verinnerlik.

The value of silence (Taize gemeenskap)

Ek het hierdie op Taize se webwerf raakgelees en deel dit graag met julle. Jy kan dit op hul webwerf kry by http://www.taize.fr/en_article12.html 

Three times a day, everything on the hill of Taizé stops: the work, the Bible studies, the discussions. The bells call everyone to church for prayer. Hundreds or even thousands of mainly young people from all over the world pray and sing together with the brothers of the community. Scripture is read in several languages. In the middle of each common prayer, there is a long period of silence, a unique moment for meeting with God.

Silence and prayer

If we take as our guide the oldest prayer book, the biblical Psalms, we note two main forms of prayer. One is a lament and cry for help. The other is thanksgiving and praise to God. On a more hidden level, there is a third kind of prayer, without demands or explicit expression of praise. In Psalm 131 for instance, there is nothing but quietness and confidence: "I have calmed and quieted my soul … hope in the Lord from this time on and forevermore."

At times prayer becomes silent. Peaceful communion with God can do without words. "I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother." Like the satisfied child who has stopped crying and is in its mother’s arms, so can "my soul be with me" in the presence of God. Prayer then needs no words, maybe not even thoughts.

How is it possible to reach inner silence? Sometimes we are apparently silent, and yet we have great discussions within, struggling with imaginary partners or with ourselves. Calming our souls requires a kind of simplicity: "I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me." Silence means recognizing that my worries can’t do much. Silence means leaving to God what is beyond my reach and capacity. A moment of silence, even very short, is like a holy stop, a sabbatical rest, a truce of worries.

The turmoil of our thoughts can be compared to the storm that struck the disciples’ boat on the Sea of Galilee while Jesus was sleeping. Like them, we may be helpless, full of anxiety, and incapable of calming ourselves. But Christ is able to come to our help as well. As he rebuked the wind and the sea and "there was a great calm", he can also quiet our heart when it is agitated by fears and worries (Mark 4). Remaining silent, we trust and hope in God. One psalm suggests that silence is even a form of praise. We are used to reading at the beginning of Psalm 65: "Praise is due to you, O God". This translation follows the Greek text, but actually the Hebrew text printed in most Bibles reads: "Silence is praise to you, O God". When words and thoughts come to an end, God is praised in silent wonder and admiration.

The Word of God: thunder and silence

At Sinai, God spoke to Moses and the Israelites. Thunder and lightning and an ever-louder sound of a trumpet preceded and accompanied the Word of God (Exodus 19). Centuries later, the prophet Elijah returned to the same mountain of God. There he experienced storm and earthquake and fire as his ancestors did, and he was ready to listen to God speaking in the thunder. But the Lord was not in any of the familiar mighty phenomena. When all the noise was over, Elijah heard "a sound of sheer silence", and God spoke to him (1 Kings 19).

Does God speak with a loud voice or in a breath of silence? Should we take as example the people gathered at Sinai or the prophet Elijah? This might be a wrong alternative. The terrifying phenomena related to the gift of the Ten Commandments emphasize how serious these are. Keeping or rejecting them is a question of life or death. Seeing a child running straight under a car, one is right to shout as loud as possible. In analogous situations prophets speak the word of God so that it makes our ears ring.

Loud words certainly make themselves heard; they are impressive. But we also know that they hardly touch the hearts. They are resisted rather than welcomed. Elijah’s experience shows that God does not want to impress, but to be understood and accepted. God chose "a sound of sheer silence" in order to speak. This is a paradox:

God is silent and yet speaking

When God’s word becomes "a sound of sheer silence", it is more efficient then ever to change our hearts. The heavy storm on Mount Sinai was splitting rocks, but God’s silent word is able to break open human hearts of stone. For Elijah himself the sudden silence was probably more fearsome than the storm and thunder. The loud and mighty manifestations of God were somehow familiar to him. God’s silence is disconcerting, so very different from all Elijah knew before.

Silence makes us ready for a new meeting with God. In silence, God’s word can reach the hidden corners of our hearts. In silence, it proves to be "sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit" (Hebrews 4:12). In silence, we stop hiding before God, and the light of Christ can reach and heal and transform even what we are ashamed of.

Silence and love

Christ says: "This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you" (John 15:12). We need silence in order to welcome these words and put them into practice. When we are agitated and restless, we have so many arguments and reasons not to forgive and not to love too easily. But when we "have calmed and quieted our soul", these reasons turn out to be quite insignificant. Maybe we sometimes avoid silence, preferring whatever noise, words or distraction, because inner peace is a risky thing: it makes us empty and poor, disintegrates bitterness and leads us to the gift of ourselves. Silent and poor, our hearts are overwhelmed by the Holy Spirit, filled with an unconditional love. Silence is a humble yet secure path to loving.