For solutions in Iraq, listen to the deep silence of God
Originally appeared on spirituality.com
The airwaves and newspapers are filled with incessant discussion of the US invasion of Iraq and its terrible consequences. Was there cause for it or not? What mistakes were made and how can they be corrected? Will the conflict spread? How will other countries respond? Should the US stay or leave? What will happen in either case?
Unfortunately, human reasoning, unless it’s based on that which is verifiably true and unchanging (like arithmetic), lacks a universally acceptable foundation on which a solution to the Iraq tragedy can be developed. Its conclusions rest on human opinions, which, no matter how well informed, are at best uncertain and speculative.
I’d like to offer an alternative to the parade of human opinions and analysis: the silence of communion with God. Silence is indeed the only medium through which a lasting peace can be achieved.
Silence frees us from speculation and gossip. It opens us up to inspiration from God, the one Mind who truly knows all. To human sense, God appears to be silent. But this is because we’re so occupied with our own and others’ opinions that we aren’t mentally quiet enough to receive divine inspiration.
Ignatius of Antioch, an early Christian bishop who was a student of Paul, speaks of major acts of God as “trumpet-tongued secrets”—literally, the mysteries of a loud shout—“being brought to pass in the deep silence of God” (“The Epistle of Ignatius to the Ephesians,”Early Christian Writings: The Apostolic Fathers, Maxwell Staniforth, trans., New York: Dorset Press, 1968; 1986, p. 81). He also counsels that “a man who has truly mastered the utterances of Jesus will also be able to apprehend His silence, and thus reach full spiritual maturity, so that his own words have the force of actions and his silences the significance of speech” (p. 80).
What is this deep silence, visualized by Ignatius, out of which God’s actions emanate? Throughout history, we read of God communicating with individuals, of helping them to make plans, overcome obstacles, and accomplish tasks, like the rebuilding of Jerusalem’s walls.
How can this be if God operates in what seems to human beings to be the stillness of deep silence? The answer, of course, is that God communicates through spiritual intuition and acts that destroy evil—and that deep worshipful silence is the human prerequisite to receiving such communication.
To the extent we can silence our fears, pride, experiences, education, opinions, ambitions, purposes, and plans, and lay all our surrendered thoughts at the feet of the only absolute universal power there is, we find our human consciousness refreshed.
The spiritual intuitions that enter it can indeed shape themselves into universal rather than polarized viewpoints, into silent words that inspire new commitments to more God-centered endeavors, and even into the loud (but silent) shout of healing and regeneration. No error, whether sickness or anything else, can stand before the silent witness of divine Truth.
The Jewish Bible, the foundation stone of Jewish, Muslim, and Christian religions, makes clear that to communicate with God we must still the constant chatter of the human senses: “Be still and know that I am God,” and “He leads us by the still waters.”
Mary Baker Eddy amplified this in her chapter “Prayer” in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures: “To enter into the heart of prayer, the door of the erring senses must be closed. Lips must be mute and materialism silent, that man may have audience with Spirit, the divine Principle, Love, which destroys all error.”
An answer to the situation in Iraq is not to be found in the uncertain realm of human reasoning, devoid as it is of verifiable knowledge. God, on the other hand, does not think: God knows. There is no uncertainty or subjectivity in knowing. What God knows is.
His statement “I am that I am” encompasses everything that is good. To solve human problems of any magnitude, human consciousness and reasoning need to rest in the silent stillness of intuitively available divine knowledge.
To the extent that words can encourage us to seek and find the spiritual foundation of God’s goodness and thus discover a universally acceptable way forward—whether in Iraq or in our own lives—they are, of course, useful. But when God’s inspirations do come, they transcend the limitations of language by unfolding to us not only the words but the power to communicate in a way that unites rather than divides. And, as Moses discovered at the red sea, his call for stillness and fearlessness produced action that spoke louder than words.
What a loud shout it would be if the world’s worshipers of God could lay down their religious and national identities, self concepts, political viewpoints, human opinions, enmities, alliances, losses, hurts, and anguish, and rest in a Sabbath of silent knowledge that there is a God, that God alone governs man, that all that He made is good, and that His will is done in earth as it is in heaven! With such a transformation of thought and life, there would be no need to reason further.
Silent communion:
Science and Health
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