Silence in Forte

The following was created from a little game that I like to play every now and then. Taking a random Bible verse, I do my best to create an essay that attempts to do it justice. I may continue to play this game on the blog if it works out well enough. The verse in this question is a troublesome one: 1 Tim. 2:11 - A woman should learn in quietness and full submission.


We are afraid of silence. It indicates weakness, submission, slavery. And in among all the thoughts brimming over on account of the many impetuses we receive every day, I find it impossible to even conceive of a world in which I could sit down and remain silent without speaking to fill the void. We are so constantly bombarded with media and news and information and texting that I think we find it difficult indeed to sit down and remain silent. But we are afraid of silence.

Even at my school, we look down on the socially awkward or uninvolved. We pity the one who prefers to keep silent, and we call them bad evangelists. And if this could show us anything, this shows us that in this world, both locally and globally, words hold power. Whether good bad, we speak these words every day not merely to inform, but also to persuade, even such actions are purely in ignorance. For the ignorant speak oppressively from liberation, but the informed speak liberally from their oppression. And somewhere in the middle, we have this verse prohibiting women to speak in the general assembly.

Of course, there are obvious historical and grammatical issues at play, thereby changing its context. But that cannot stop the uninformed Sunday morning preacher from pontificating upon the complementary roles of men and women and how the socially defined structures for them are both universal and nonnegotiable.

So where does this verse go and where does it stop? Is silence so bad or talking so good? And is it even possible that Paul would say that no woman could ever speak in a church ever?

I cannot imagine it. Yet here this verse stands, and perhaps I am the offender not submitting myself to it. For while the uninformed preacher pontificates, I remain silent, not daring to break my own socially defined role as a spectator in a silent crowd or silent classroom. What an irony.

And that silence hurts. It is deafening. And while mine might be destructive, the silence of a woman might be creative. Now I should be clear here: I think women ought to teach and preach and learn vociferously in the church. We are not living in 1st c. Ephesus, and at this time, I will not choose to see Paul's use of Adam and Eve as some universal application for why women can't talk in church. If anything, it might be just the opposite.

Women may be saved through childbearing, but men will certainly not be saved through speaking or asserting their authority, at least to a point. If this is the guy who said that there was neither male nor female in Christ, then the contradiction here could not even be reconciled by Eastern rationale. There must be something deeper here.

But in the meantime, I must begin to speak. I do know that the stories of Jesus reveal him as one who treated women respectfully, even Syropheonician ones. And if I ought to live like Jesus at all, then I must speak like him. Regardless of the verse here, the backdrop is one where the roles between men and women look different that what is socially defined.

So if there is neither male nor female in Christ, then what am I? Can I learn quietly in all submissiveness as well? Must I always be relied upon to speak boldly? Can I not also choose to sit and listen, absorbing wisdom while submitting myself to the authority over me, regardless of their sex, race or denomination?

I hope the answer is "yes," for thus far I have only little exegetical ability or existential weight to make any decisive statement. Yet the ignorant still speak, their words a horrible cacophony like a tone-deaf soprano, and the tenor of my voice has yet to be heard. And in due time, they will rest and my voice will resound.

But for now, I must wait and listen. My life is not yet gone that I cannot wait quietly and submit. Indeed, I will be called upon to lead. My experience holds this to be true. But not yet. And perhaps when Paul penned these words, it was not yet time for these particular women to speak. Maybe, however, one day they did become qualified to speak and in turn taught some young man who was not yet ready to take the reins of leadership.

So in this church in which we may find ourselves, perhaps there is an audience for a feminine note, spoken forcefully in full forte. And perhaps there is room for the uninformed preacher's tones to diminish into a submissive piano to make way for the breaking melody. The soprano will sing yet and the tenor will rest and the chorus will resound as it always has. The choir will continue to crescendo until the end has been reached.

And so in the meantime, I will prepare: exercising my voice, seeing the notes I can reach, expanding my range and finding my place in the choir. And hopefully our song will reach even heaven.

*O Come, O Come Emmanuel for our silence may be louder than our fears would give it credit.