Silence has more than one use

A few years back, I remember attending a christening for one of my brother-in-law's family. One would consider that to be generally a very happy occasion, but somehow the conversations became rather spine chilling, mainly centred on speculations about the war in Iraq and Afghanistan escalating, nuclear holocaust, and other dismal possibilities.

My nephew, Christopher, is very interested in political science, and has a passion for current events - he knows what is going on, and this in detail, in every nation in the world. (By contrast, I have no understanding of current events, or even events during my own lifetime. I can't remember who it was who said 'history takes time,' but it certainly is true. I love history, but am lost about journalism - I need to consider a perspective of a century at the very least.) Much as I would have preferred to steer this miserable talk in another direction, it occurred to me that Christopher, who really did know facts about everything under discussion, remained silent. (He often does - not a trait inherited from my side of the family, though I'm shy and his mother would make me look silent.) Christopher is part of debating societies and pursuing a career in law, and I suppose he saves his words for when they are necessary or at least useful. I may have far more life experience, but I believe he's learnt something relatively early - it's no sense talking, even if one's knowledge is vast, when it will have no effect. (Even I, who admit my deficiencies in the 'current events' area, knew full well that Saddam Hussein, who was still in power at the time, was not likely to launch an air offensive which would throttle the combined power of the RAF and United States Air Force... the more since Saddam did not have enough of an air force to even attack Israel.)

It is not unusual for those in religious work, politics, teaching, and so forth to have one lesson they never learnt. Don't say anything about areas of which one knows nothing. For example, clergy (whether Roman or Anglican) normally are highly educated in not only theology but logic, philosophy and the like - most could speak eloquently of the use of reason. Yet it is not unusual for some of them to spout about current topics using none of the skills they should have acquired. I myself trained not only for theology but (university) teaching, so I'll not be penalised, I'm sure, for admitting that even those who may have excellent training in a particular subject can be prone to spout at length about those not remotely related to their area of expertise. (Politicians are in another category, I believe, because they are more likely to be employing rhetoric. However, such little memories as those of George W. Bush's seeking support from moderate Arab nations by announcing, of all things, plans for a crusade show how rhetoric can have a totally different effect than one might have foreseen.)

Those of us with high religious ideals often have accompanying tunnel vision. It is not that our viewpoints do not have value, not at all - but we can be so focussed on a particular ideal that we don't see the bigger picture. It can have odd results. Loving literature and theatre as I do, I never fail to be exasperated, for example, when I read accounts of religious sorts organising protests and demonstrations, and urging boycotts, for books, plays, or films which have not yet been released / produced. It does not seem to occur to them, in their fervour, that it is best not to refute books which one has not read or films one cannot possibly have seen.

Many religious people are well aware of the value that one may find in silence in relation to prayer and meditation. Perhaps it would be wise to borrow a good idea from Christopher and keep one's mouth shut when one has insufficient information or when, even if one is very learned, speaking would do no good. In my much longer life, I still never seem to grasp that lots of conversations consist in talking about nothing!