Inclined to Silence

Most people would be surprised to know that I prefer to be silent, especially people who know me from church world. The first time a seminary roommate accompanied me to church, she was incredulous: "Who is that person and what happened to my roommate?" That shift has to happen at church, given that I've been on staff some place for several years now. 

But I prefer living in a city because I can go unnoticed in coffee shops and grocery stores and restaurants. I can slip in and out with as much anonymity as I like. Usually, I like a lot. I confess, I've even shied away from the pizza place where I was going often enough that they recognize me when I walk in and already know my order. Anonymity. Silence. I like those things.

As someone who literally has a pulpit and in the age of social media when everyone who wants an audience can have one, I still choose silence a great deal of the time. There are several reasons why. A lot of the things people side up on are far more complicated than most make them out to be. 

I also consider a lot of things to be adiaphora. If you're not familiar with the term, Google it for the specifically Christian meaning. Mostly, it's a reference to how much I'm indifferent to. It's not that it doesn't matter to some, but to me, it doesn't matter much at all.

I won't start a list of those things because some day, one of them might move off the list of adiaphora to something I care about a great deal. I'd hate to dig myself a hole like that. 

The result of this inclination to be silent is that people know the handful of things I really care about. They've told me to stop talking about LGBT concerns and I've lost at least one very good friend over those debates. I've offended a few people talking about what the Bible is and isn't. I've confused people employed by food banks who are used to having to sell the notion of food insecurity by being able engage the topic and talk about subsidies and budget cuts and the like. 

My inclination to silence spills over into the church. There are often times I haven't addressed world events in worship that other pastors have chosen to address. It is a choice, though, not negligence. I actually pay quite a bit of attention to national and world news; I confess to skipping out on the local more than I should.

But what if the church, just my church, or the Church, the whole Church, chose just a handful of things to be worried about? What if we declared a whole list of things to be adiaphora and worried about the few remaining ones? 

I'm hesitant to say the Church should ever be silent because there are so many times we have been when we shouldn't have been. But I wonder what would happen if the many drowned out cries about so many things turned to a shout about just a few?