Imagine that you’re in a theatre. The house-lights dim – but don’t go out all the way. The curtain is still down.
Up to that point, the audience had been chatting amongst themselves, reading the program and the synopsis of the scenes. And then there was nothing left to read; nothing left to say.
And the house lights go out altogether.
There is silence.
The curtain is still down.
People start shuffling nervously. Some start talking amongst themselves again. Some walk out, muttering that if it hadn’t been free to get in, they’d have demanded their money back.
But it’s not like nothing is going on. Behind the lowered curtain, stagehands are moving about, shifting scenes, putting actors in their places. The great silence continues. And it goes on for 430 years.
From the last words Malachi wrote in his prophecies to the appearance of the Angel Gabriel to Zacharias, there was “official silence” from God. His prophets had said all there was to say. The Commandments were signed, sealed and delivered: God had told His people what was right and what was wrong, and — true to His nature — left it up to them to decide which to choose (while letting them know which choices He would bless). The last they heard from God, He promised a Saviour — “the Sun of Righteousness … with healing in His wings” (Malachi 4:2) and that Elijah would come first, to proclaim Him. And that was it.
People were left to wonder. What about those promises? What about becoming “fat like stall-fed calves” if we followed Your word (Malachi 4:2)? What about that noise about “trampling the wicked” (Malachi 4:3)? Was that a load of hot air?
HELLO?
Are You there at all?
Oh, He was. A quick overview of the history of the time shows an interesting pattern. Various empires were conquering Jewish territory and Jews were being spread out over the known world. With them was travelling the laws and the prophets. Some of the conquerors were putting Jews in important positions. The influence of the Word of God was spreading.
It wasn’t all jam, of course — or any jam, for that matter. There was still the dark cloud that they were a conquered, oppressed people, surviving at the pleasure of whatever empire was ruling them. There was still the overarching sense that things were Not As They Should Be and that that Saviour couldn’t come any too soon.
And what would that Saviour look like? Well, there had been military heroes, but regardless of their success, the oppression continued. Peace was elusive.
Can you imagine going any period of time when you hear nothing from God? We all do — often just before He shows Himself with great glory, which is usually when we have our back to the wall, with nothing left to do but cry out to Him because every choice we’ve made on our own has been a disaster.
So the stage was being set, even though the audience couldn’t see it.
And The Great Silence was about to be broken.
I believe God sends us into the wilderness, so He can visit us.
He appeared to Moses while he was living in Midian — exiled from Egypt, where he had been a prince, and rejected by his own people. God brought His word to the Hebrews as they were wandering in the wilderness of Sinai. He visited Elijah while he was on the run from Jezebel and Ahab.
Nebuchadnezzar was driven into seven years of living among wild animals, eating grass, before he looked up to the Lord.
Joseph had his visitation from Gabriel as he was facing the toughest and most heart-rending decision of his life.
And John the Baptist’s time in prison let him contemplate who Jesus was.
It’s in the wilderness that the noise of the world is damped-down. We have time to “take stock” — to contemplate where we are and how powerless we are. When we’re not in the wilderness — when things are “going well” and everything seems to be going our way — we don’t think about relying on God. We believe we’re in control of everything and there’s no need to “take stock”. The fall that inevitably comes pushes us into the wilderness.
In the wilderness, we have no available resource that we can see, and in that silence, we hear our own breathing and feel our heart beating and realize that Something Else must be driving those actions.
Sometimes, as Nebuchadnezzar did, we look up at last, and reach out to that Something Else. Sometimes, as with Moses, God comes to us. Sometimes, as with John the Baptist, we have nothing else to do than contemplate and ask the question that’s been on our mind.
But the common thread is that God allows us to free-fall to that low point. In doing that, He shows us how reliant we are on Him. But while a human might do that to someone else out of spite, God does it to us, to show His glory and His great love for us; because when we do turn to Him, He breaks His “Great Silence” with a resounding crash – an explosion of blessing, as He did with Nebuchadnezzar and Job, giving us not just sustenance, but abundance.
At Christmas, we celebrate God breaking His “Great Silence” to the entire world — coming out of that 400-year period when many people probably thought He had stopped speaking to them and had walked away. But really, He was about to break that silence with a “crash” that is still resounding — and will do so until the end of the age.
For centuries, the Promise had been a cause for Hope; people were in a state of “Wait and see …”
With the arrival of Jesus, that had become “Come and see …”
- Come and see the miracles
- Come and see the healing
- Come and see the power of the Holy Spirit, which is made available to anyone who believes
- Come and see the height and depth and breadth of the Love God has for us
- Come and see what we are able to do, as co-heirs with Jesus
And even now, there is the Promise of Jesus’ Return, and the building of the New Jerusalem, and that voice telling us to “Come and see”.
And for that, yet again, we’ll have to wait and see.
Merry Christmas!
Every Christmas, there would be a Pogo book under the tree.
Two Minutes for Cross-Checking! 