Silence Screams

Paying attention to our silent words and actions  

Matthew 8:5-17  

When Jesus entered Capernaum, a centurion approached him and appealed to him, saying, “Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, suffering dreadfully.”  He said to him, “I will come and cure him.” The centurion said in reply, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed. For I too am a man subject to authority, with soldiers subject to me. And I say to one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and to another, ‘Come here,’ and he comes; and to my slave, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.” When Jesus heard this, he was amazed and said to those following him, “Amen, I say to you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith.” And Jesus said to the centurion, “You may go; as you have believed, let it be done for you.” And at that very hour his servant was healed.   

          You can tell a lot about a person by what they don’t say as well as by what they do say. Indeed, sometimes, their silence speaks louder than their words. A perfect example of how silence can scream is the trial of St. Thomas More. The year was 1535, Henry VIII was King of England and St. Thomas More was his Lord Chancellor. The king declared himself the head of the Church in England and demanded that all loyal citizens accept this supremacy. That would be like President Barak Obama saying he’s the head of the Church and all Catholics must listen to him instead of Pope Francis. That decree put Thomas More in a deadly quandary: he had to choose his allegiance to the king or to the pope.   

          Thomas’ defense was his silence: he refused to betray either the king or the pope. He argued eloquently, saying, “For no law in the world can punish any man for his silence. Tis God that is the judge of the secrets of the heart.” And yet Thomas More was convicted of treason and beheaded for not accepting the king’s supremacy. You see, More’s silence spoke volumes more than his tongue or pen could ever have conveyed. Sometimes the silence screams.   

          In the gospel today we see Jesus healing a lot of sick people, and yet there is a subtle silence in this scene. Our Lord heals a centurion’s servant; he heals Peter’s mother-in-law, he heals people possessed by demons. That’s all well and good. But notice what Jesus did not do: he didn’t heal everyone in the world who was sick that year, not even everyone in Capernaum, just the lucky few who made it to Peter’s house that blessed night. Why? Why didn’t Jesus just snap his divine fingers and cure all diseases, and drive our all demons? It almost seems cruel to cure only a few fortunate souls. Well, I believe Jesus’ silence was screaming something just as loudly as that of St. Thomas More, namely, Jesus had not come to create an earthly paradise but to draw our attention to a heavenly home. In fact, Jesus did not do a lot of things – he didn’t eradicate hunger, he didn’t stop all wars, he didn’t prevent natural disasters, he didn’t stop your toothache. I believe Jesus’ silence sort of “screams” that this is not our final home, don’t get too comfortable here, keep heading for heaven.   

          Folks, have you noticed how your silence screams, too? For instance, Catholics say, “I make it to Mass most Sundays.” But what about those Sundays you skip Mass, especially while on vacation, what does that omission “say” about your priorities? We say we are good Christians, but do we speak up against abortion or for immigrants? The real tragedy of World War II Germany was not Hitler’s rise to power, but the conspicuous silence of so many good German Christians. People don’t go to confession saying, “I haven’t killed anyone! I haven’t robbed a bank!” True, but what good could you have done that you didn’t do? Your silence also screams.    

          Today, take a moment to listen to the silence of people’s words and their actions, and your own silence. But you might want to cover your ears: the silence can be deafening.

          Praised be Jesus Christ!