Noisy Silence
Sermon: May the Fourth Be With You
A few years ago. Justin downloaded Merlin, the Cornel University Birding app. I did not. My phone did not have enough space.
Last summer, I was unable to walk the trails in search of new bird song, but my phone was still too old and small for the app to function, so it was a moot point.
At the beginning of winter, we upgraded our phones; the first new app I installed was Merlin the birding app. It was going to be my motivation to walk, to get back into shape in the spring. And then I received my diagnosis and knew why I was so out of breath. Mere lack of fitness was not the primary reason – I had something physically wrong with me.
It was then I realized that the birding app could still help my recovery. I would begin to use it on my post-surgery walks. It could still be part of my motivation to move. From April tenth to now, I have recorded forty-one different bird species with the app, and I am approaching the half-way point of Justin’s list!
As a result, I have been more aware of silence on my walks, the quality of stillness, and the noise that pollutes the landscape in the absence of birdsong.
Cars and other wheeled vehicles are easy to notice, as are motors for chainsaws and mowers and other lawn equipment. The laughter and squeals of children, the barking shouts of adults, warning woofs from dogs, the sounds also change the kinds of birdsong in the soundscape, either by drowning out the birds, or frightening the flyers into silence.
Wind is incredibly noisy, even when there are few leaves to rustle with passage, the wind will howl through bare trees, leaving them creaking and groaning in the wake of the rush. Rain, too, even when gentle, as those drops hit ground, leaves, trees, they burst upon impact, leaving behind the sound of micro-bubble wrap: plop, pop, pop.
The world is incredibly noisy, and we keep filling it with more sound. Even when you eliminate all manufactured sound, the cacophony left behind is amazing, once you are still enough to listen.
Perhaps I am more aware of ambient noise right now as I am still recovering my full voice. I find myself shouting to be heard, yet those around me cannot hear a sound. I am so loud inside the echo chamber of my head, but I barely make a whisper on the soundscape. Or perhaps I am making plenty of noise, if the world were silent.
Speaking of making noise, though, I am getting myself preaching ready once again.
To my friends at Hudson Presbyterian, I have not forgotten my promise to call you when I am healed. I have not called anyone yet; all my upcoming bookings are from people who called me just before my surgery or during my convalescing.
Yesterday, I had the chance to preach at the church I consider my home congregation. The two churches where I was a child and did my growing are no more, but Westminster Presbyterian Church sponsored me through seminary.
One curious trait of Westminster is the concentration of honorably retired pastors who call that congregation their home, too. I still remember the first time I delivered a sermon at Westminster, and how intimidating it was to look at the gathering and see all these faces with intense looks of attention. I wondered if I was being judged for my logic, my theology, my writing, but one of the Honorably Retired Pastors (who has passed now) was beaming up at me. His face was my haven, my rock, my fortress, my green pasture. As it turns out, all the honorably retired pastors appreciated my words, focus, and conclusions similarly, and from then I was able to interpret their intensity for what it was – curiosity and encouragement, not judgement.
And so yesterday when I preached at Westminster on a familiar passage, which so many of us pastors fall into the same trap of concentration, I enjoyed focusing on something different in the passage.
Synopsis:
Scripture:
The familiar post resurrection story of the Breakfast Picnic Fish Fry on the beach with the risen Jesus and several Fisherman Disciples. After they eat, Jesus asks Simon, son of John, (also known as Peter), three times if Peter loves Jesus. After each affirmative, Jesus tells Simon to feed his lambs, tend his sheep and feed his sheep.
Sermon:
Often this sequence is seen as a three-fold revocation of how Simon Peter denied knowing Jesus when challenged on the matter during Jesus’ trial. This makes sense as an interpretation, especially considering Greek storytelling! I took a different approach in my interpretation because of how Simon Peter’s name was used throughout the text in the translation I studied for the sermon.
In the storytelling, the narrator calls our main disciple “Simon Peter,” while the other disciples are seen directing a statement to “Peter.” Jesus, in directly addressing this character, calls him, “Simon, son of John” even though it was Jesus who told this person several months prior some variation of, “Now you will be known as Peter, the rock, the foundation.” Peter is hurt. The passage reads that Peter felt hurt because Jesus kept asking the question, “Do you love me more than these [fish]?” But names are important, and the narrator only refers to Peter as “Peter” from this point on in the narrative. It is as if before this challenge, Simon Peter was at a crossroads. Return to his safe pre-Jesus life (as “Simon”) or go forth in the world unable to look away from the suffering of those around him (“Peter”). If we accept that names, and use of names in storytelling, is significant, then we can interpret Peter’s hurt feelings over Jesus’ question as Peter feeling upset because Jesus is telling Simon that he has fallen short of his injustice rebuking potential, and Peter does not like having it pointed out that he has reverted to being Simon.
Conclusion:
There are many of us who can check into and out of the struggle against injustice in this world, but there are many more who cannot, who do not have that same freedom of choice. We who can choose to engage or stay “out of politics” are choosing to not obstruct oppression.
An analogy would be to the regular German citizens in the 1930’s who did not vote for the rising party but went along with the policies to hopefully come out the other side still in possession of their lives and property. They were sympathetic towards the plight of their Jewish neighbors, but looking out for their own interests did not make them bad people, right? They considered themselves to be good people, good German Christians, and certainly not part of that crazy political party that seemed to be gathering a scary amount of power.
It is not enough to be like Simon Peter, bouncing between two worlds, only fighting against injustice when it is convenient, because so many people do not have the choice. We live in a noisy world. When the manufactured noise retreats, be the sound that remains.
There’s a whole lot of us walking around with our chins tucked down because it is easier to swallow than to see.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Irreverent Reverend to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.