Worship - 22 June 2025

Summary of this week's theme

In Es Castell, a record-breaking charcoal mural is taking shape - a silent statement of Menorca’s culture.  Unlike rebellious graffiti or provocative slogans, this artwork communicates without words, much like the whispers of truth found in silence.

Paul Simon’s The Sound of Silence captures this idea: ‘The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls… and whispered in the sound of silence.’  But long before Paul Simon, the prophet Elijah discovered the voice of God not in fire or earthquake, but in sheer silence.  Exhausted and disillusioned after his success in confronting Baal’s prophets turned sour with his life under threat, Elijah fled - not so much to save his life, as to escape his calling.  He’d had enough.

Elijah’s story is familiar to anyone in ministry. Moments of burnout, when efforts seem fruitless, and the Church, meant to embody grace, feels mired in conflict and control.  Elijah, at the edge of despair, encountered God not in grand gestures, but in quiet presence.  In the silence, God asks, ‘What are you doing here?’ - a question that shifts in meaning depending on tone.  It’s a call to reflect, to listen, and to keep going.

Jesus, too, spoke in silence and vulnerability, not with force.  In Gentile territory, he heals a possessed man - an act that frightens the locals more than it inspires them.  Their fear of economic loss and disruption speaks louder than divine compassion.  The demons' name, ‘Legion,’ hints at Roman oppression, linking spiritual bondage with political domination.  Faced with liberation, the people choose the safety of the familiar chains.

This raises a question for us: what does the mural of our lives show?  Are we painting pictures of power and possession, or of listening, caring, and love?  We’re each crafting a mural - not in charcoal, but in the choices we make and the lives we lead.  And if we are to hear God’s voice guiding us, we may need to stop shouting, stop striving, and simply listen - for the divine voice often speaks, still and small, in the sound of silence.