In the beginning was the Word.  All things were made by him and without him nothing was made^[1].

Silent night, Holy night^[2]; How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given^[3].  Have you ever noticed how much silence is claimed for Christmas; between the angel choirs and sundry other visitors?  Jesus’ birth was a momentous occasion, worthy of an angelic choral outpouring and the sounds of creation rejoicing.  Meanwhile, hymn writers envisage silence as much as noise.

Jesus’ death, or rather the manner of his death, was equally momentous.  This time, though, we might have expected, not the sound of rejoicing, but the terrifying, thunderous sounds of divine anger. The evangelists tell us that in the hours leading up to Jesus’ death darkness covered the land for 3 hours and the temple curtain was torn in two^[4]; Matthew attributes this to an earthquake^[5].  Apart from this there is nothing.

I began this piece with an extract from the opening words of Saint John’s gospel; words familiar to us from countless services of lessons and carols.  When John tells us that The Word became flesh he is, of course referring to the incarnation; the birth of Jesus.  This weekend we mark both the death and resurrection of that flesh.  Jesus’ death is accompanied by the usual human babble; from the crowds calling for his execution, to the sound of the executioner’s hammer.  His resurrection is accompanied by silence.

To the world at large there is nothing untoward; no angelic choirs, no real signs of divine wrath, nothing that speaks of a life and death battle in heavenly places.  Perhaps this is why both the cross and the empty tomb pass largely unnoticed.  Humans make a noise, God comes and goes in silence.

Rev’d Philip Payne                                                         Good Friday to Easter    The Notice Sheet for Easter Day can be found here

^[1] Jn 1:1, 3

^[2] Carol, Silent Night

^[3] Carol, O Little town of Bethlehem

^[4] Lk 23:44

^[5] Matt 27: 51