The radio caught me by surprise this week. There I was, driving on I-97, and the familiar strains of Simon and Garfunkel came through the speakers. The words stuck in my gut at first. I felt the pressure of tears building up. And then I began to sing in a way we might only sing in the privacy of a car. I belted out words I had not heard for years:
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sounds of silence
At the very beginning of the Book of Acts we read the Ascension story, which tells of disciples standing, their mouths agape, looking at the sky where Jesus just disappeared. They get caught up in it. They felt the weight of the ministry Jesus had left with them at that moment, and it's nothing short of awesome: daunting and beautiful all at once.
Perhaps getting caught up in the Sound of Silence this week was not dissimilar for me. It's a short song, just over three minutes long, and it caught me in the awesome reminder of the call to ministry that we all have. In a week where a terrorist took the lives of children at a concert, I am caught frustrated with what to do. Or when I'm asked again by a homeless mother with a two-year-old, where will she and her daughter sleep tonight? In those moments I need to trust God and that I will find the answer. When I was done singing, ringing in my ears was where to look for the "words of the prophets." I hope you'll join me in the search.