The 'Off' Switch

As we get older, we remember stuff from long ago.  I thought the other day about a certain radio comedian.  “Wireless,” he said (that’s what we called it in those days), “is a wonderful thing; by turning a single knob you can have complete silence!”  The initial surge of enthusiasm for broadcasting had subsided, but the point of his joke was the fact that the wireless was still very popular, and people would stop their conversations when it was turned on, in order to listen to the programme.  This invention was one of many which have contributed to the demise of home-spun entertainment over the last two or three generations.

It occurs to me that this old saw also carries a more obvious truth - in other words that silence can be obtained by switching the radio (or other similar music/noise machine) OFF.  Wherever we go nowadays, it seems, we are bombarded by sound.  Background music is found in many workplaces, shops, motorway service stations and so on.  Quietness can be found only in the depth of the countryside - and that is becoming more and more scarce!

But why should we seek silence?  Are we simply yearning for the impossible, trying to turn back the clock to a past age?  Quite apart from the potential for harm to our ears, constant sound around us has the further property of exclusion - it cuts us off from the distraction of our surroundings.  Students claim that this is a useful way to facilitate concentration on revision.  

It is said, however, that listening to music involves every part of the human brain.  Therefore, isn’t it the case that incessant music can shield us from other things, too: things that could be really important in life?  It becomes the simplest way to shut out unwelcome thoughts, challenges we aren’t yet ready to face, and so on.  Ultimately, it can separate us from God.

In the latter part of the nineteenth century, the American Quaker, John Greenleaf Whittier, penned a lengthy poem “The Brewing of Soma”.  It was inspired by a particularly noisy sect which was active near his New England home, and whose constantly intrusive celebrations were becoming a source of general annoyance to the community.  

The final verses of this poem have come down to us as the well-known hymn, “Dear Lord and Father of mankind”, and in it we find mention of ‘a still, small, voice of calm’.  This is a reference to Elijah, of whom we read in I Kings ch. 19.  He had been told to stand on the mountain because the Lord was about to pass by.  He looked for the Lord in a wind, then in an earthquake, and finally in fire - all without success.  Only then did he hear God’s voice in a gentle whisper, and so receive His instructions.

If you would listen to God’s purpose for you, it is important - some would say essential - to shut out the distractions of the world.  But don’t fall into the danger of exchanging one distraction for another: remember the off switch!