That long-ago night is vividly present to me now, but far more vivid than the pain and fear is the voice of my brother, who accompanied me there. Through the waiting, intake, more waiting, tests, consultations, his calm quiet voice was a life-giving presence. It was a voice that said: “I’m here; you’re not alone; somebody cares about you; thereƵapp a way through.”
A voice can be like that. Perhaps thatƵapp because it echoes God, who comes to us, often, as a voice.
Recently I watched a new mother speak playfully to her baby, whose whole body was immediately engaged and attentive. This summer I watched our shepherd, Julio, speak to the sheep, who trust him and follow his steady voice, and grow in his care. ItƵapp the type of voice we use with those we love, and they interpret it instantaneously, viscerally. ItƵapp the voice of intimate encounter.
There is power in a voice, a power thatƵapp unique.
ItƵapp a power that can be troubling, when launched against us. Many, many voices come at us in our cacophonous world. The director of A Beautiful Mind uses visual images to help moviewatchers feel, a little, the power of voices: the tangled, confused web of voices that torment the mathematician with the beautiful mind. A bewildering distraction of voices jangles around and inside us all. Where, in all this chaos, could GodƵapp voice be? How can we possibly find it?
The other side of GodƵapp silence is GodƵapp voice. As we learn to bear the silence of God, we begin to discover GodƵapp voice.
“My sheep know my voice,” Christ assures us (John 10:27). There is one Voice among the many voices. And we know it; we recognize it. How could we not? We’re made of it. Adam and Eve hear GodƵapp voice calling in the garden, even though they’ve hidden in shame (Genesis 3:8). Mary Magdalene sees the risen Christ but doesn’t recognize Him; when she hears His voice, she knows Him as her own dear Lord (John 20:17).
GodƵapp Word springs forth from GodƵapp eternal silence, says St. Ignatius of Antioch.
GodƵapp is the voice of insistent desire. That voice may come out of the bright blue sky. It may well come in a state of emergency, as my brotherƵapp voice did for me. Moses, who sees a bush burning, hears the voice of the God of Israel speaking His love for His captive people.
To hear GodƵapp voice is a struggle — because itƵapp a call. Silence helps us pay attention to God speaking all the time. Being in silence teaches us GodƵapp voice.
Hearing the voice of God is not “hearing voices.” Even Joan of Arc, who readily heard her “voices,” had to listen to the silence of God. Yet, an intermediary might speak GodƵapp voice. GodƵapp messengers in the Bible are called angels (Greek angelos means messenger).
In the Book of Tobit, Tobias’ eyes don’t recognize Raphael the Archangel, but his ears hear RaphaelƵapp words offering divine guidance and healing. In LukeƵapp Gospel (1:28), Mary hears herself hailed by Gabriel the Archangel and told that GodƵapp favour rests on her.
Whether through another or directly, GodƵapp voice can be heard, even amidst the noisy chaos, even when we can’t see anything at all. PeterƵapp eyes and mind have no idea whatƵapp going on at the top of Mount Tabor, but in the fog his ears hear the voice of the Father claiming Jesus (Mark 9:7).
GodƵapp voice brings intimacy, but also invitation and mission. It can unsettle us and give an urgent task. Out of the fog of the Transfiguration, it exhorts: “Listen to Jesus.” Even when it comes in blindness, as with St. Paul en route to Damascus, it urges action — or rather, promises to bear fruit: “Enter the city” (Acts 9:6). GabrielƵapp voice speaking to Mary calls her to the “yes” that will bring salvation. RaphaelƵapp words to Tobias invite action — to his relief — and out of the action comes healing greater than he asked.
“My sheep know my voice,” but we may be less familiar with our own. We fear to speak, or speak haltingly or foolishly as St. Peter did, or are silenced in our arrogance as St. Paul was.
GodƵapp voice calls out our voice. He doesn’t force us to speak, but in the silence and the struggle to hear, He teaches our voice. Learning our own true voice is part of listening, and part of coming to life.