Wonderful Words

“This is my Son, whom I love.  Listen to him!”  Mark 9:7

As someone whose profession and passion both revolve around words, I’m starting to realize that sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all—or, at most, not much.  Don’t hold your breath; that doesn’t mean this reflection will be brief, but it does hold hope that I’m learning to monitor what comes out of my mouth.

Sometimes the occasions for keeping speech short (or silent) are sorrowful, such as this week’s funerals for two precious friends.  Their families, both filled with heavy hearts because of their loss but hopeful hearts because of our Lord, don’t need a barrage of exclamations or explanations—not even scriptural ones.  They simply need demonstrations of love and care and the simple words, “I’m sorry.”  If you’ve ever experienced grief, you know that in the times when your mind cannot digest a dissertation, your heart still hears acts of kindness, sincere hugs, and the gift of presence.   

Other occasions that require reserve are grand and exciting—times of delight and splendor when mere words can’t capture the appropriate enormity and awe.  Three disciples got a dose of this one day when they stood on top of a mountain with the transfigured Jesus.  For a few moments, the bright and beautiful glory He gave up when He came here was restored, and they were dumbstruck.  They had never seen such light.  They had never seen such white.  And they had surely never seen two dead-f0r-several-centuries guys alive and well and talking with the Lord.  “There appeared before them Elijah and Moses, who were talking with Jesus”(Mk 9:4).

Their jaws should have dropped in terror not talk, but Peter just had to say something, so he proposed a plan. “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here.  Let us put up three shelters—on for you, one for Moses, one for Elijah”(Mk 9:6).  At that point, the Father in heaven found His voice, and a thunderous reply from above more than suggested that Peter shut up.  “A cloud appeared and enveloped them, and a voice came from the cloud, ‘This is my Son, whom I love.  Listen to him!’”(Mk 9:7).

The story of the transfiguration is a rich narrative of an incredible experience, but every time I read it, I’m also reminded of the little lesson Peter learned in a big way—sometimes it’s best to stay silent.  Take in what’s happening.  Appreciate the action.  Soak in the scenery.  Feel the loss.  Share the sorrow.  But keep the commentary quiet.  Sometimes God is too wonderful for words, and at other times His ways are too deep for discourse.   In those moments, it’s best to heed the heavenly advice—“Listen to him!”  After we hear what God has to say, we know much better what we should say, if we should say anything at all.

Speak when you must.  Shut up when you should.  And always listen to the Lord.

Words are wonderful but only when used well.