Staying in the Silence

“Staying in the Silence”—March 28, 2018

"Then the chief priests accused [Jesus] of many things.  Pilate asked him again, 'Have you no answer?  See how many charges they bring against you.'  But Jesus made no further reply, so that Pilate was amazed." [Mark 15:3-5]

Sometimes there just isn’t anything to say.

Or, let me clarify: sometimes there just isn’t anything to say, but we still try desperately to find some way to fill the silence.

"We chirp theories like chickadees,” writes Walter Wangerin, Jr., “because ignorance is a terrifying thing and we need the noise.”  We seem to have this instinctive need to talk, or make someone else talk, even in moment when there is nothing to be said.

What, after all, does Pilate expect Jesus to say?  Does the Roman governor expect Jesus to play along with this game, pretending it isn’t already rigged?  Does Pilate really expect Jesus to act as if he can get a fair trial?  Does Pilate really expect Jesus to plead for his life like the Empire is really the one calling the shots?  Does anybody think that it is really the ropes or the soldiers that are keeping Jesus there in the room to endure the trial?  Nevertheless, Pilate, the anxious, insecure, blustering representative of the Empire's kind of "law and order," keeps prodding Jesus to speak up, to fill the awkward silence of a courtroom where the defendant won’t… defend himself.

And mark that: Jesus doesn't defend himself.  He is unafraid, unprovoked, and unashamed... so he doesn't get defensive or even attack back those who are wrongly attacking him.  Jesus has nothing more to say.

In our country, we tend to hear about “remaining silent” and think of sleazy businessmen or conniving government appointees refusing to incriminate themselves.  We all know from television and movies (if not from real life, let’s hope) about getting your Miranda rights read to you when you are arrested.  We all know that the arresting officer begins, like a monk chanting a memorized prayer, “You have the right to remain silent.  Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”  We are, in other words, used to hearing about “remaining silent” or “pleading the Fifth” as an act of cowardice—albeit cowardice protected by our Constitution.  Nobody can make you plead guilty in our system—which means that right often becomes a shield to hide behind in order to make the police find other evidence to convict you on.  But nobody has much respect for the defendant who has to hide behind the Fifth Amendment to slow down the prosecution.  This is not what Jesus is doing.

Just from a historical perspective, of course, the Romans had no “right to remain silent.”  They had no Fifth Amendment to allow mob bosses and corrupt politicians to hide behind.  There was no ancient equivalent of saying, "I have no recollection, Senator..." or "I do not recall that..." the way we have grown used to people saying in our day. So Jesus’ choice to remain silent is not a way of keeping himself out of trouble.  If anything, it is Jesus’ refusal to grasp for any escape ladders out of that trouble. Jesus isn’t a helpless victim, caught between the Romans and the religious leaders.  Jesus won’t let himself be a pawn for them. He refuses to speak because there is nothing he can say to change things, and he will not try and pretend that a few eloquent words can fix what is broken with the situation.  Jesus has never been one to pretend, after all.

And yet Jesus doesn’t run away from the situation, just because there is nothing he can say to change it.  Sometimes there just isn’t anything to say, but you stay put in the uncomfortable silence because your presence is enough.

In one sense, we will never be in a situation like Jesus was here, because he went through this mockery of a trial and his crucifixion to save us from having to stand accused alone.  But in another sense, we will often be in moments like Jesus is right here, moments where our presence is needed for someone else, but not for us to try and fill the silence because we are uncomfortable with it.  Sometimes we will be called to show up in someone else’s life and there will be no “right” words, no words that can fix what is wrong.  Tragic, awful, unfair, and heartbreaking things happen in this life, and no amount of saying, “Look on the bright side,” will change that.  Sometimes we are called into one another’s lives, not to find the right words to make them happy again and “leave ‘em smiling,” but to share their sorrow and to stay in the silence with them.

When you do find yourself in one of those moments—at bedside in a hospital room when the doctor walks in with a stern look, when your friend’s heart is breaking, when a loved one walks in the door with the sentence, “I lost my job,”  when someone you care about simply needs to unload the weight of the day that has worn grooves in their soul—we will find that being Christ-like doesn’t necessarily mean finding something vaguely religious to say because we are uncomfortable with the silence.  The Christ-like response may just be to stay in that silence, and not to stumble around looking for inspirational words, but simply to let your presence say, “I am not leaving you in this.  I will not take an escape hatch to abandon you.  I am with you.”

That is, after all, what Jesus said to us with his silence. Actions, as they say, speak louder than words, and Jesus spoke volumes in the act of laying his life down for a world full of us who were holding the nails.

And beyond that, there was nothing more that needed to be said.

Christ our Savior, give us the courage and compassion to be present with those who need us today, and give us the grace to know when to let our mouths stay shut.