Three Silences by Matthew Church
Grateful to share with you a guest blog by Matthew Church.
Three Silences.
It seems to me that there are at least three silences in the world as we face injustice. The first is the silencing of the person or community upon which the injustice is enacting itself, a silencing by the ruling powers so that these people are kept from disrupting the status quo, and so the injustice can continue unhindered. (Ex: “No, you must not, in fact it is now illegal, to practice your sacred potlatch ceremony and will be for 66 years”)
The second is the silence of indifference from the society surrounding this injustice. It is based in fear, indifference and neglect. It is a silence that becomes, in South African Archbishop Tutu’s words, ‘a siding with the oppressors” because it does not name the injustice, protest it, but allows its dominance to continue. (eg. “Why don’t those people (list any marginalized and oppressed group ever) just ‘get over it’ already.”)
The third silence is where I think our true activism must arise from. It is a silence that displaces us enough to hear the constant chatter of colonial powers and impulses that surround us and influence us. It is here that we may find clarity to distinguish what voices we are listening to, to see what words and voice we are speaking with, and how that is either contributing to or acting against the injustice. Then we can put the oppressive ‘noisy voices’ aside, naming them and denouncing them for they are, and listen in that new sacred silent space for a true word to come to us and emerge and grow within us. It is here that we can choose freely who and what we hear, and can make generous space for the voices of the marginalized, those who are facing the injustice, to assist in forming us and shaping us. It is this silence that we can live from in both our private and public lives, as we are both silent by ourselves, and take the place of silence at times in the community of others. From here we can learn what Creator is speaking beyond the noise of our world, and center ourselves in these life-giving and animating words, words that, in their humble small way can contribute to the emerging of a true shalom world.
Entering into this silence can be a decolonizing act and a way of turning to ‘honor the other’. The ‘wordy’ ways that the colonial project on earth has used words to dehumanize, to assert unjustified control and dominance, and to create fabricated realities is one of the hallmarks of its oppressive ways. By silencing ourselves from speaking our opinions, our thoughts, our truths, to rather listening to marginalized voices/those facing injustice, allowing ourselves to hear with an imaginative empathy and compassion to the ‘other’, something can start to change in us for in good ways. Something can start to reform our tightly held discriminating narratives and opinions, and shed light on how we might participate in speaking new words to see justice happen in small ways in our small worlds and communities.
One of the most profound circles I have been part of was when, as a small group of diverse university students, we gathered as part of a week together, to specifically hear the stories of injustice/discrimination that the women in our circle experienced simply because of their gender. Though the talking stick was passed to the men in the circle, we only held the stick in silent listening and witness, then passed it to the next person without word or comment. Then in conclusion we rejoined our voices and tears in prayers together and expressions of lament.
As we approach the tension between National Indigenous Day and Canada Day, two celebrations that can seem quite different in what they are actually celebrating, maybe there is a place for this transformative silence in our communities. There are 11 days between the start and end of this time, and together with some others here in Victoria, we are seeking to spend this time in fasting, prayer, listening and lament. We are seeking silence from our own (ours and those like us) thoughts and opinions of ‘the right way to do things’ and our own narratives. Rather we are filling this silence with space to hear from the diversity of indigenous voices from these lands, and from the Creator of both these lands and all of us who reside here now. Maybe there is an invitation in here for you as well. Maybe we will hear something new that will help us to walk in better ways together.
May this silence, and our continued space made for it, become like a spring of life-giving water, always welcoming us to drink, then to share and receive generously with/from our neighbors wherever we find ourselves. I know I sure need this silence in my life, and I know I need others to help me keep making space for it.
- Matthew Church