the Silence

The above image is from a very old, original photograph, which was colorized by Jared Enos (here).  It is captivating.  Although the colorization makes the image appear as if that picture could have been taken recently, yet it could not have been any more recent than about a century ago (the photographer was then deceased).  The men in that photo were not in costume; it was not a staged photograph.  Actually, the photographer was much farther away from those men than what it appears.  I magnified the image and then did a screen capture, in order to re-frame the view.

The reality of that scene is what I find mesmerizing.  It powerfully draws me, in my imagination, into that very place.  I feel as if I can almost hear the magnificent silence ~ not only of that particular place, but of that time ~ which that silence must have seemed, to those men, to permeate the whole world....


That silence was not only among the mountains, but it was everywhere.  Although it is still possible, today, to go to certain places on earth where there are no few man-made sounds, and thus the environment is comparatively quiet; yet, I believe that is not the same thing as what those men pictured above, experienced.  I have sometimes been in some very remote area far from any towns or roads.  Yet, even there, that "silence" was occasionally broken by the sound of a jet flying high overhead.  And even if I had my cell phone turned off, yet I was aware that "civilization" was not really very far away.  Thus, in my own lifetime, I have never actually experienced (though I can barely imagine such, if I really try) a feeling that ~ over, above, and throughout the whole world ~ a grand, ever-present, awesome silence prevailed.  That silence was complete.  It was permanent.  It was dominating, by virtue of its awesome grandeur and ubiquitousness.

Take a close look at the look on those men's faces, above.  I don't think they were all looking in exactly the same direction.  Yet, it seems to me that there was a look of wonderment in their countenance.  What were they looking at?  Why were they sitting, still, on the prominence of that ridge?  They were not at a place where they could cross that lake.  There was no moose nor elk on that little strip of land where those men sat, motionless, on their horses.  Each of those men was looking "away," and "up."  To what?  Every day of their lives they had seen mountains, and trees, and sky.  I suppose they were overawed by the majesty of the world in which they lived, of which they themselves were a part of that.

I have personally known a few native American Indians, in my lifetime.  In fact, I am myself part native American Indian.  To the extent that I know about the nature of those people (which, admittedly, is not very extensive), it seems to me that they are a comparatively quite people; by which I mean it seems that they are not given to talk as much as do most other people (groups).  Could that have something to do with how that, anciently, native American Indians lived in more intimate relation to that great silence of which I'm writing about?

I can't help but believe that modern man is not only missing something which is important to his own well-being, by having destroyed to himself that atmosphere of reverent silence.  But, also, that the cacophony which modern man has substituted for that silence, to be sure, is burdensome to man's spirit ~ if it may not in other ways be hurtful to man's existence.

As I meditate upon these things, I keep thinking about a certain experience that the prophet Elijah had with God.  Elijah was camped out in a cave high up on a mountainside.  (Spending time upon mountain tops seems to have been the habit of many of the prophets of old.  I believe the reason why that was so must have something to do with being alone with God, in solitude ~ and in silence.)  After a while, God came to speak with Elijah:

"And he came thither unto a cave, and lodged there; and, behold, the word of the LORD came to him, and he said unto him, What doest thou here, Elijah?  And he said, I have been very jealous for the LORD God of hosts: for the children of Israel have forsaken thy covenant, thrown down thine altars, and slain thy prophets with the sword; and I, even I only, am left; and they seek my life, to take it away.  And he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the LORD.  And, behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the LORD; but the LORD was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the LORD was not in the earthquake: and after the earthquake a fire; but the LORD was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.  And it was so, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle, and went out, and stood in the entering in of the cave. And, behold, there came a voice unto him, and said, What doest thou here, Elijah?" (1 Kings 19:9-13)

Oh, how I love every thing about that scene!  All of those manifestations of God's power notwithstanding, yet, it was that "still small voice" wherein God appeared to Elijah.  And Elijah's fearful reverence to God ~ is not only instructive but deeply inspiring.  It is no wonder that God could speak to such a man; or, rather, I mean it is no wonder that such a man was able to hear...that still small voice.

I think a lot about how things are today in the churches.  I have oftentimes been in church services in which, for whatever reason, there was a lull in the action, which resulted in no more than a minute or so of relative silence.  Amazingly, it seems that that makes people very uncomfortable!  It's as if they don't know what to do with themselves, if there is not continually something going on.  How tragic.  How little understanding....

But it really is very much like that regardless of the setting.  Whenever people get together, it seems that feel they must always keep the conversation going.  Doesn't it?  But why is that?  I know for a fact that it has not always been that way, for humans.

The world has definitely become something very far different from God made it to be.  But "the world" of which I speak has nothing to do with mountains, and trees, and rivers, and sky.  But the world of which I speak is the world of humanity itself ~ as a species.  Yet, I don't want to be like what I see that "world" has become.  By the mercies of God, I certainly don't want to become anything like what I foresee that the world of men is on the way to becoming; which vision is horrifying.

I want to return to live in that immense, ever-present Silence.  No, not death; not some metaphysical nothingness; not inactivity.  But a peaceful existence, an unhurried Reality ~ underneath a sublime, overarching canopy of eternal rest ~ which, the Bible calls that, the "shadow of the Almighty," beneath "His wings."

Native American Indians had no Bible.  Yet, they all spake of "the Great Spirit."  I don't wonder how they knew.