Grace to you and peace from our loving God, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

Elijah said to him, "Elisha, stay here; for the Lord has sent me to Jericho." But he said, "As the Lord lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you." So they came to Jericho. The company of prophets who were at Jericho drew near to Elisha, and said to him, "Do you know that today the Lord will take your master away from you?" And he answered, "Yes, I know; be silent." (2 Kings 2:4-5)

As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead. (Mark 9:9)

Sometimes words are helpful. Sometimes words are not enough. On occasion, situations and sentiments are too deep for words.

Such is the case this morning in both the Old and New Testaments. When Elijah passes the mantle to Elisha and when the disciples witness the transfiguration, words fail. In the face of such profound events and the glory of God, silence is the only adequate expression of awe.

Pastors tend to have some trouble with one place of solitude, when it is utilized overmuch on Sunday morning. It's not so much a problem at this time of year, though. I'm speaking of the golf course. It can be a most congenial place to spend quiet time and solitude. "It's a splendid place to meditate," even one pastor claimed. He became such a good "meditater" that he entered a golf tournament. In the opening round, when it was his turn, he expertly placed his ball on the tee, confidently moved his club into position, began his swing, and the caddie sneezed. His concentration and confidence shaken, he topped the ball miserably and it dribbled only a few feet from the tee. Clenching his fist, biting his lip, and glaring at the embarrassed caddie, the pastor maintained silence and refrained from saying a word. Whereupon his opponent said to him, "Reverend, that is the most profane silence I have ever heard."

Silence is golden, we often say, usually when we want someone else to keep quiet — notably children.

In his 1924 presidential campaign, Calvin Coolidge greeted the emotional subject of Prohibition at press conferences with a standard response: "No comment." No matter how insistent the reporters, he steadfastly, persisted in his "No comment." Then he would leave the room, smiling, and add, "Now don't quote me."

Calvin Coolidge hardly stands out in our national history as a shining example of presidential leadership and power—his laid back style and renowned nap taking are the few legacies of his presidency. Even his White House portrait, under which small July 4th birthday parties would take place in the Reagan era, has been replaced. However, Coolidge did seem to understand that no response is sometimes the wisest response we can make, especially when a situation transcends human insight or experience.

This week's texts highlight the chasm between Creator and created by allowing us dazzling, almost blinding, glimpses of the glory of God. The human response to that overwhelming power is, almost without fail, one of inadequate, inappropriate blathering. We see examples of this in this morning's readings.

In the story from Kings, Elisha can only deal with the vision he encounters by naming it, without a word of wonder or praise at the glory of this mighty act of God in taking Elijah to heaven. And Peter tries to domesticate the vision of the transfiguration of our Lord by proposing some busy—work to engage him and his companions while the epiphany lingers. Both are pretty silly responses to a revelation of God's power and presence; we just don't know when to keep our mouths shut. We too often refuse our own cliched advice: "Silence is golden."

The same uncomfortable nervousness that motivates us to make small talk in bank lines or to discuss the weather in checkout lines spills over into our response to the holy in our lives: We feel compelled to add our own commentary to every situation, when a silent contemplative "no comment" would demonstrate a far more profound grasp of the situation.

Refusing to talk may be a sign of openness and completeness-sometimes we dare not speak because no words can express our joy and happiness. At other times, as for Isaiah in the temple, we can only utter "Holy, Holy, Holy" (6:3). To be sure, silence is not always golden. Sometimes it can be downright cowardly. In the words of a Nobel laureate, "In a room where people unanimously maintain a conspiracy of silence, one word of truth sounds like a pistol shot" (Nobel Lecture, p. 13).

This week's texts emphasize what humans should not or cannot say about God. Other biblical texts also eloquently express the virtue of "no comment":

Psalm 46:10 succinctly counsels, "Be still and know that I am God..."

Isaiah 30:15 states "In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength."

Psalm 37:7 adds, "Be still before the Lord, and wait patiently for the Lord."

Proverbs 17:27 redefines our flippant injunction to "Keep cool" in terms of "no comment," observing that "One who spares words is knowledgeable; one who is cool in spirit has understanding."

Job admits that his long tirades against God have been so much blowing chaff when in 42:2-3 he eventually discovers: "I know that you can do all things... I have uttered what I did not understand; things too wonderful for me, which I did not know." When Job's friends stayed with him seven days and seven nights, they said nothing. (2:13). If they had left then, they would have been immortal. Instead they talked-staying so long that Job could only exclaim: "If you would only keep silent, that would be your wisdom!" (13:5).

Perhaps the greatest master of silence—of the "no comment" response, is Jesus himself. His ministry is a mastery of understatement. His message is often communicated in parables. His mission is cloaked in commonness. His words are often brief and to the point.

Arrested and hauled before first the Sanhedrin and then the Roman authorities, Jesus is given numerous opportunities to explain away his actions and attitudes. After wrestling with his doubts in Gethsemane, Jesus remains obedient to the unfathomable will of God, to the mystery of the impending crucifixion and the resurrection, by maintaining a consistent "no comment" silence in the face of the apparently reasonable requests by authorities to explain himself.

Jesus' ultimately deadly "no comment" to Pilate is the most eloquent response he could have given. Through his silence, the majesty and mystery of self-giving and divine grace are made manifest on Golgotha.

Silence is vastly under-rated by our culture. Some of us avoid it at any cost, and I often wonder whether we're uncomfortable with silence because we're afraid to face ourselves. When we are silent, our focus inevitably is drawn inward.

I happen to believe that we ought to imitate Christ on this point too. Through Jesus' silence, we see something profound about God's grace. That grace, I believe, can be more fully manifest in us to the extent that we are willing to submit ourselves to healing and revealing silence.

As many of you know, I attended a Quaker college, Earlham College in Richmond, Indiana. It was there that I learned best about the importance of quiet reflection. The Quakers have celebrated the spiritual value of silence perhaps more than any other Christian group. William Penn's "Advice to His Children" (first published in 1726), offers this counsel: "Love silence, even in the mind; for thoughts are to that, as words to the body, troublesome; much speaking, as much thinking, spends; and in many thoughts, as well as words, there is sin. True silence is the rest of the mind, it is to the spirit what sleep is to the body, nourishment and refreshment. It is a great virtue; it covers folly, keeps secrets, avoids disputes, and prevents sin."

The world is a talkative, loquacious, word-processing, and text-messaging place. Our tongues are loose and continually wagging, often it would seem without much thought. The world encourages this continuous wordiness. Perhaps it would be wise to see the church as the center for silence—processing, the place where we come to reflect on our words, a place to stop and simply to be. It's something I have invited us to practice in that time of silence that begins our worship.

"Nothing in all creation is so like God as stillness," insisted Meister Eckhard. The Romans talked about "fatigare deos"—harassing and fatiguing God with a flood of words. A popular theologian cites Heraclitus as one who "maintained that the authentic attitude of the spirit was one of 'listening quietly to the truth of things,' a silence before the mystery. It is in silence that we experience the constant newness of God. We prepare ourselves best for God's incalculable ways when we are silent." (Boros, "Meditations", 1974). I really like Martin Luther's suggestion that prayers ought not be overly long, so that we don't bore God.

Susan Smith Jones, author of "Choose to be Healthy" (1987), writes: "Those people who live in a constantly noisy environment and who neglect to go inside their 'temple' to listen to the silence are depriving themselves of one of life's most profound experiences. Unmitigated loudness breeds agitation, aggression, and disharmony. Noise deafens the mind to the inner voice, to our connection to all life, to peace and joy.

"Science has determined that noise is pathogenic, that it can cause disease in the human body—and not just in the inner ear, as was once believed. William Steward, former surgeon general of the U.S. Public Health Service, stated that the noises 'of (modern) living are a major contributing factor' in the deaths that occur daily from cardiovascular problems. 'Noise must be considered a hazard to the health of people everywhere,' he said." ("On Serenity, Solitude, and Silence," New Realities, May/June 1989, 24).

This morning we are reminded both by Elisha and the disciples who shared a vision of the glory of God, that wisdom is not a simple thing. It has perhaps not so much to do with knowing what to say, as in knowing when to keep our silence. Silence can indeed be golden, especially in the presence of the glory of God. Amen

May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds through faith in Christ Jesus our Lord unto eternal life. Amen.