For October 12, 2008–My car radio broke this week. I had no idea I needed my radio so much. I’m a fairly contemplative person-I need some down time. But I found my drive to work maddening, as I kept cranking the sound to no avail and hitting the power button with no satisfaction. I drove past the bus stop, wishing I would have taken the bus so I hear people talking or at least kept up with the Jones, and had a iPod. But with all the time alone with my brain, I had time to think about the relationships I had made over the years with the morning radio disc jockeys and the NPR newsfolks. Had they become part of my family?
It is not surprising the silence was maddening. The jungle or woods are never silent–unless there is danger. The natural world makes noise all the time. Humans, with our giant brains and imago-dei creativity, have made all sorts of ways to fill our ears with sound. We are seldom quiet. Even when there is no audio stimulus, we have our mind to chatter with. We crave companionship and community, (even the Myers-Briggs introverts.) It is strange how technology can both help and hinder our connectivity.
This week’s lesson is about Abraham, Sarah and the great family that came from them. Abraham embraced the silence. He went out into the desert. I’m sure he must have encountered deafening silence, but then a way of knowing God, that comes from deep listening. God’s promise to Abraham was that he would be the father of a great nation (two in reality, but that’s a different post) that would number the stars in heaven and the grains of sand in the desert. I wonder if the fine print of that covenant included, “and thou will never endure silence again, because in your remaining days, you will have a child.”
A big family ensures one company. As immediate family size tends to be shrinking, it is comforting to know we are a part of a great big family. We are not alone. We don’t always think alike, or recognize our love and dependence on each other, but we are part of a great family web.
In times of crisis, we realize how tenuous and fragile our family web really is. The four people in my house depend on the grocery store and farmer for food, who depend on the truckers to drive the food short or long distances, who depends on the gas station, etc. to a scary extreme. We are completely dependent on our global family for survival.
Where are you in this story of the Great Family? The children’s answers are often, “I’m one of the children”–one of God’s cherished children. As adults, do our ears not hear that message or has our mind stopped listening?