Silence

"I know of no other way, in these deeper depths, of trusting in the name of the Lord, and staying upon God, than sinking in to silence and nothingness before Him... So long as the enemy can keep us reasoning he can buffet us to and fro; but into the true solemn silence of the soul before God he cannot follow us."
- Quaker Faith & Practice (Britain Yearly Meeting) from John Bellows in 1895

There is a really great discussion going on in the comments of a Kwakersaur post about the reluctance of many Quakers to use "Jesus Language" - a sort of deliberate vaugeness of language about a definition of God, or relationships with God, and a commenter offered this quote, which really spoke to my condition. I was recently in an online discussion (which turned into more of a debate than I like) where we were talking about creeds - the use, value, shortcomings, and pitfalls thereof, and I find this quote applicable there, too.

I understand Friends' concern that this vaugeness and lack of definitive language can be more a sign of lukewarmness and cowardice than of thoughtfulness. It's an argument I try to stay out of, but one that I think about a lot.

The fact is, I share a deep craving for depth and reality, for real-world applications and consequences in the journey - I'm not here to skip stones. But my concern for truth rather than abstraction and the accompanying reluctace to seize on a proper noun for God is actually deeply at one with my horror of lukewarmness.

I want to be bold, I want to be sure, I want to go to a mountaintop and proclaim that "Yes, I believe in _________!!!!!!!!" I don't want to go soft and inoffensive around the edges, and yet I feel such a vulnerability, such a new, strong call to meekness, humility, and owning up to my ignorance, that for once in my life I am struck absolutely dumb. I cannot honestly lay claim to a Jesus, or a Christ, and only barely, some days, to a God. If a vauger word comes nearer to expressing the larger truth, it is a mortification to me, but I cannot in honesty deny it.

It does seem to me that the one article of faith that I cling to is that one can go from being a seeker to a finder - or rather, that there is something to be found. I have found Truth, or at least, encountered it. To say I've found in in partiality or in totality is actually a bit meaningless...by definition Truth (God) is complete, always, regardless of what I know or do not know of it, can or cannot say of it. To quote again from Hedwig, "There is nothing you can find that cannot be found." I have found something, I know. I can't say why I find my ignorance to be so huge in the face of this Truth. I can't really express how the fact that I have been a Finder makes me so absolutely sure that I remain a Seeker.

I am strongly convicted by this verse from 1 Peter:

"But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts: and be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear.

I am in the odd position of strongly having that hope within me, but not yet having an articulable answer, or even worse, wondering if there is one. In such a time it is so absolutely sweet to have recourse to the silence. There I am reassured, strengthened, reminded, and doctored with that hope, which I cannot deny, even as I fail to define it.