For many people, God is a silent God. As far as they’re concerned, He says nothing. But when I read the Bible I can’t help but be left with the strong impression that actually this is a God who just won’t shut up. Take Abram for example. He’s sitting in the desert, counting his livestock and minding his own business, and then God comes along – “Psssst…Abram.”
Does the idea of a noisy God comfort us? After all, we’d love to hear from God, right? Right? Or maybe, if we’re honest, a noisy God is a scary God. Perhaps, if we’re honest, we want a silent God. A God who doesn’t call us to anything, who doesn’t ask anything difficult of us. Perhaps we’re afraid of what He might say if He did speak. Perhaps we’re like the people of Israel, who at Mount Sinai pleaded with Moses, “Do not have God speak to us or we will die”. You see, if God speaks, He requires a response. To leave Him hanging is just rude.
Do you remember that time when Jesus spoke to a young man, burdened with riches and looking for a new way to live? Do you remember what Jesus told him? To give all he had to the poor and to follow him. Do you squirm when you read that passage? Or are you immune, because you have read some commentaries, listened to some sermons, and have been conditioned not to panic at such extremism. When God speaks, sometimes we find ways to soften the blow. Words like ‘hermeneutics’ and ‘context’ become our friends. “Of course Jesus doesn’t mean this literally…”
But what if…? What if God means exactly what He says? What if this is exactly what it looks like – a call to give everything to the poor and to follow Jesus. He was not telling this rich young man that he needed to think about what was really important to him, to merely re-align his priorities, as though the man could keep all of his wealth if only he was able to change his thinking. Rather he was telling him to sell everything that he had and follow him. There was no double meaning. It was a call to obedience, pure and simple. It was not his wealth that dragged him down, it was the fact that Christ called and he walked away. Now, it is true that Christ may not ask the same of you, to give all you have to the poor, but he will definitely say “Follow me”. We ignore this at our own peril. Beware the well-developed theology that spiritualises what is plain and, albeit inadvertently, keeps obedience at arm’s length. How many sermons have we sat through (or delivered) that have sought to de-fang the gospel because otherwise the congregation would just not stomach it? How many times have we heard (or said) “Well, what Jesus really meant is…”? The rich young man was disobedient, yes, but at least he was honest.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer compares it to a child who hears his father calling him to come to bed, and thinks “What dad really means is that he doesn’t want me to be tired, and I’m not tired, so I can keep playing…” No. What dad means is come in to bed. We can justify it all we want, it’s still disobedience.
So, maybe it is better it we don’t hear from God, because if we do, and if He means what He says, what are we to do if He looks us in the eye and says “Give all you have to the poor and follow me”? Or “I want to you give up something that’s important to you”? Or “I want you to go and spend a year living among and serving those people you don’t know or like”? Perhaps it’s better not to hear, if this is the kind of God that we follow. Better to be deaf, than obedient.
But to be deaf is to assume that God wishes us ill. To fear obedience betrays what we really believe – that God cannot be trusted; that He is not actually seeking our best. What are we so afraid of? The fear that God does not really have our best interests at heart is a voice that seems a little familiar to me. After all, isn’t it just the voice from that first garden? The voice that asked “Did God really say that? Can He really be trusted?” We are afraid because we do not really believe God can be trusted. We are afraid that obedience will be costly and turn out not to be worth it. So we do not listen because obedience frightens us more than living in the silent darkness.
Maybe a silent God is better. A silent God can be worshipped, no problem. But a noisy God? Well, a noisy God is a problem. A noisy God has to be obeyed.
