‘I know nice men
who have nothing to say
Except "What a nice day, may I say that today's a nice day
'Cause I've nothing to say"
(from ‘Erudite
Eyes’ by Giles, Giles, and Fripp, from the album ‘The Cheerful Insanity of
Giles, Giles, and Fripp’, 1968)
This morning I suddenly realised that I had not posted on my blog for over a week. Following my recent decision to post more regularly, that came as a wee bit of a shock. Good intentions, and all that.
Last week there were lots and lots of things that came to mind about which I had thought of blogging. I didn’t have the space to write anything at the time, and now, alas, today I can remember none of them, and I have not a clue as to what to write.
Nothing to say.
So, perhaps I would have been well advised to say nothing!
Ok, so that’s not going to happen, is it? Those who know me well, will be aware that I have never knowingly or willingly missed an opportunity to say something, even if I really have nothing to say.
And that’s the issue.
Why do we feel the need to say something when there is really nothing to be said?
One way or another, in these days it seems that we are drowning in a sea of words; and much of what is said is unnecessary, or (worse) manipulative, cruel, harmful, incendiary.
Not every vacuum needs to be filled with us saying things, and especially if we really have nothing to say… or at least nothing that is kind, positive, constructive, or necessary.
As a Minister and preacher within the Reformed tradition I am aware of how thirled to words I can be. I think I have this in common with many of my fellow preachers. Now, just to be clear, I am not saying that words are not important as a means of communication, still less that I do not value the ‘preaching of the Word’ as being very much at the heart of our Reformed understanding and practice of worship.
That I believe – and practice (although I would like to also add something about the importance of Sacrament and of Community. That is all for another time).
But where do we regularly allow time for space and silence in our worship?
Why do we not value the visual and tactile as much as the oral and aural?
How come we feel the need to ‘say’ something, when saying nothing would be better?
And, look what I have done! I had nothing to say, and now I’ve said too much.
And there is the problem.
