Restoring Our True Voice

A ‘Faith Daily’ reflection for the Birth of John the Baptist, Luke 1: 57-66, 80

Today I’m flying low and I’m
not saying a word.
I’m letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep.
The world goes on as it must,
the bees in the garden rumbling a little,
the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.
And so forth.
But I’m taking the day off.
Quiet as a feather.
I hardly move though really I’m traveling
a terrific distance.
Stillness. One of the doors
into the temple.

— Mary Oliver, A Thousand Mornings

We live in a society starved of quiet: of uncluttered spaces, unhurried attention, and discerning voices. Our culture rewards reaction over reflection, volume over wisdom, immediacy over truth. Yet the spiritual traditions remind us that stillness is not emptiness, but a necessary pause within the noise of our lives.

In many spiritual traditions, retreat is an important opportunity to tend what has been weighing on us, to discern our gifts and callings, and to realign ourselves with our deepest values and vows. We withdraw, not to disappear, but to listen again for what is trusted and true.

I like to think of Zechariah’s period of silence as a much-needed time of retreat. After doubting the angel’s promise, he falls silent. For months, he cannot debate or control the story unfolding around him. He has to wait. As he waits, he watches. He listens. He attends to the new life growing before him.

When Zechariah’s voice returns, it returns in alignment with that new life. The child is named John — God is gracious — and Zechariah’s restored voice is no longer centred on fear or assumption, but on the mercy of God breaking into the world

There have been times when I have been silenced by shame, or muted myself through fear, hurt, or disappointment. I have withdrawn my voice when I felt unappreciated. I have hidden from difficult conversations when I was unsure how to speak faithfully.

Yet increasingly, I am learning to receive these moments as invitations to retreat: not to run away, but to return to God; not to abandon my voice, but to let it be restored closer to its source. This is why I look forward each year to the mandated clergy retreat, and why I work to schedule quiet spaces into my life in between.

Our voices are fullest and most faithful when they are aligned with what is sacred and life-giving. Not when we are flawless. Not when we think we have all the answers. But when we are ready to speak from a place of humility.

God of silence and speech,
realign my heart with your life-giving grace.
Restore my voice, that I bless the life before me.