Holding the Silence

Read Mark 16:1-8

As I write this devotional, it’s winter and Milwaukee is covered in eight inches of heavy snow which is appropriate, because I’ve been thinking a lot about winter lately. In fact, God has been discipling me through winter. It started with a trip to Scandinavia in 2019 and a fascination with Scandi culture: how are they the happiest people in the world and yet they live in such a cold climate? Here in Wisconsin it seems that we tolerate, avoid, and complain about winter, we don’t enjoy it. Then, a trip to Montreal revealed another culture that seemed to delight in winter. I ate frozen maple syrup at an outdoor sugar shack and attended an outdoor music festival in freezing temperatures—and I loved it! And so I have been asking God, why this fascination with winter? What do you have to teach me in this? 

I have learned that winter is an annual invitation to trust in the promises of God. Do I believe in the promise of spring and new life? Do I believe the snow will melt and tulips will emerge from below the earth? Do I trust that trees are merely sleeping and the lake is alive beneath its frozen crust? 

Winter is also a season of silence and ambiguity. The bustling East Side of Milwaukee has never been as quiet as it was yesterday, covered in sound-absorbing snow. It was as if a holy hush descended over the city; even cars made less noise! Instead we navigated snowy shapes: What is under this mound of snow? Where does the sidewalk begin? 

Today’s resurrection passage from Mark reminds me of winter. In this passage we see an invitation to deep trust, as well as silence and ambiguity. As the gospel of Mark was originally written, both the story and the gospel end abruptly after verse 8. This is the way Mark wanted his gospel to end: suddenly, in ambiguity, with witnesses holding the silence. In the silence of Mark’s ending, we are faced with questions: where is Jesus? What will happen next? We have no answers, no conclusions, but rather an invitation to trust the promise that He is risen, is alive, and is going to Galilee (v. 6-7). 

I like this ending. It feels true to my life, a life filled with unanswered prayers and promises not yet fulfilled. Many things don’t seem clear, they seem ambiguous and unfinished. I have to trust that God is at work in the silence, in the ambiguity, beneath the wintry snow (1 Kings 19:9-13; Habakkuk 2:20). 

FOR REFLECTION:

• Spend intentional time in silence today. What are you hearing most clearly from God during this time?  

by Liz Carver