Last night I went to a jazz concert which was a part of the Canterbury Festival.
Most of the audience were in their 60’s and 70’s and they loved the old time ‘greats’ they had been familiar with in their youth, in the immediate post-war era after we were liberated from all the fear, horror, destruction and the noise, of war. Each session was loudly, even ecstatically applauded and it was very, very, noisy as was the era it sprang from. So when I finally drove off in my car it was as if you could ‘hear’ the silence and the old saying ‘silence is golden’ came to my mind and something golden is very precious.
It then occurred to me that this precious, golden something about silence was that it surrounded you like a cosy blanket. It made everything seem safe and intimate and so facilitated a chat with our ever loving God. Perhaps God also likes jazz, or the silence which follows it.