The sounds of silence

By Hyon O’Brien

I just got my voice back after a case of laryngitis that lasted well over a week. For a couple of days it was so bad I could barely produce a sound, and thereafter whatever sounds I did manage to produce sounded like they were coming from a frog, which kept me quiet. I’m almost over it but still a bit husky (some say sexy). After being forced to live some days without talking much, it led me to ponder the pros and cons of silence.

One of my favorite Psalms is 46:10, ``Be still and know that I am God.” Precisely because I am not capable of being still for any length of time, this verse is a challenge and a good reminder to me. I try to restrain myself to be quiet whenever I see the danger of becoming a clanging gong.

About 10 years ago, I spent three days with my oldest sister at Prayer Mountain on the outskirts of Seoul. There, I participated in silence and fasting. I sat in a cave-like solitary room to quiet down my insistently loud and busy inner voices. It was very hard to empty out so much noise coming from inside my head. On the third day, I achieved a moderate success of being still and silent.

It is a struggle to sit quietly in meditation and shut out the world. Calming the inner voice requires work and discipline. Mother Teresa spurs me on: ``We need to find God and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature ― trees, flowers, grass ― grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence … We need silence to be able to touch souls.”

Silence is golden, we say, but is all silence good? No matter how much we cherish silence, there are times when life demands us to break silence and speak up when we see injustice. Romanian-born Jewish-American writer, Holocaust survivor, professor, political activist and Nobel laureate Elie Wiesel warns us about silence: ``I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.”

Looking back at my childhood, I remember a day when our mother saw a broken dish when she entered the room and immediately assumed it was me who did it as I was known to be the klutzy one in the family. I am glad my brother did not keep silent when I was about to be wrongfully accused of breaking a dish. Risking a scolding, he stepped forward and confessed that the blame should be his.

I am glad Yu Gwan-sun (1902-1920) did not choose to be silent and safe after the Japanese government occupied our land in 1910. In 1919, she became a leader of large mass demonstrations that expressed Korean citizens’ protest against Japanese rule. She was imprisoned by the Japanese authorities because of her heroic act, and died in prison, reportedly as the result of torture.

I am glad that William Wilberforce (1759-1833) decided to fight to abolish slavery in England and spoke passionately for many years against the slave trade. His bravery and persistence for decades made it possible for most of the British Empire to outlaw slavery in 1833, some 30 years ahead of United States.

I am glad that Nelson Mandela did not keep silent about the unjust treatment of blacks in South Africa by the apartheid state. I visited the prison in Robben Island where he spent many years locked in a small cell because of his outspoken outcry against the South African policy. As I walked in that tiny cell, his courage humbled me. His wisdom to know when not to be silent deeply moved me.

I am glad that the hosts of victims of sexual abuse by Catholic clergy in several nations have decided to speak up and reveal the atrocities that have been going on silently for years while those who committed them feigned godliness as religious servants.

I am glad that Dietrich Bonhoeffer (1908-1945) spoke up against Hitler pointing out the immorality of Nazi Germany’s evil treatment of Jews and others deemed undesirable in their eyes, while most other religious leaders kept silent and looked the other way.

I am glad that Martin Luther King Jr. (1929-1968) stirred up the silent black people to rally to resist the wrongs of the racial discrimination that was systematically being practiced in the U.S. 50 years ago. It would have been easier for him to stay silent but he was also endowed with the courage and wisdom to stand up and speak, and he died for it.

Every day, if we are not careful, we may remain silent when we should have been the mouthpiece of the voiceless. Let’s be vigilant and never lose the opportunity to be the advocate of justice.

Hyon O'Brien is a former reference librarian now living in the United States. She can be reached at hyonobrien@gmail.com.