Dominic Kirkham reviews Silence: A Christian History by Diarmaid MacCulloch, Allen Lane (London 2013) Hbk. 338 pages. £20.
The subject of this book turns out to be remarkably complex. In the history of Christianity silence is not one thing but many, sometimes contradictory, things: from prophetic denunciation and textual omission to sexual perversion, it is a story full of unexpected twists and turns. It takes the full range of MacCulloch's considerable scholarship and forensic powers to peel back the layers.
From the outset the place of silence was problematic for, by the author's own admission, Christianity is a very wordy religion. Claims made for the Logos (the Word of God) imply ongoing conversations. Though in the Hebrew scriptures silence is denounced as fit only for dumb idols and the dead, from the outset the 'New' Testament was claiming to unlock the silence of the 'Old' Testament so that all may hear the Good News of the 'God's speech'/Gospel. The life of Jesus itself was ambiguous, often characterised by silence culminating in the silence of the crucifixion.
For the historian of this period there is the further complexity in that most of the written evidence – MacCulloch quotes a figure of 85% – has been lost or destroyed, often intentionally by warring factions determined to silence all but their own version of things. As MacCulloch notes, 'Christianity is full of things casually or deliberately forgotten.' It is only relatively recently that chance discoveries have enabled scholars to penetrate the many silences that lie beyond the orthodox canon of scripture and its purported truthfulness.
Curiously, 'The Triumph of Monastic Silence' (as MacCulloch entitles the central part of his book) – which was to have such a powerful influence on both the understanding and practice of Christianity – had its origins in what MacCulloch calls 'Christian PreHistory', i.e. the Platonic tradition of Greek philosophy known as Hesychasm (the silent contemplation of the Divine forms) and in Asian ascetic traditions.
The ascendancy of Christianity to a position of power introduced another twist to the story in the silencing, often brutally, of any dissenting voices. A classic example of the attempt to enforce creedal conformity was the Albigensian Crusade. Only now is careful scholarship enabling us to see that the so called medieval heresy of 'Manicheism' was almost entirely fabricated by the Inquisition – MacCulloch calls it a 'chimera'. It provided justification for crushing dissent amongst spiritually minded people seeking an idealised form of the apostolic life, which challenged the increasingly centralised autocracy of the Church. It also provided cover for a land grab.
The triumph of Medieval Christianity resulted from the successful silencing of all but one official voice: as he notes, it is 'unique in human history for a region to have been so dominated by a single form of monotheistic religion and its accompanying culture.' It also gave rise in another twist to the story of silence, as this period also witnessed the rise of the universities which effectively excluded women from formal education. As a result feminine piety became characterised by a silent inner mystical searching – also denounced by the Inquisition!
The Reformation was an explosive reaction to the monasticisation of Christianity, which also proved traumatic for the seekers of silence. It was, in MacCulloch's phrase, a time when 'Word overwhelmed Silence'; when those with the most powerful voice drowned out more timorous spirits.
Such were the contemptuously named 'Nicodemites' – after Nicodemus who sought out Jesus in the silence of the night. Always 'vulnerable to the public calumnies of their enemies who wield power' they also, through movements such as the Quakers, Pietism and Quietism seeking the inner light, powerfully reshaped European culture. Now silent observance is a staple part of ecumenical fare and inner, individualised conviction a defining characteristic of modernity.
MacCulloch spends the greater part of his book navigating this complex history but his final, fourth, part changes tack again to confront those silences of evasion which have marked modern Christianity. He singles out slavery, anti-Semitism and homosexuality as examples of how churches have variously abused silence and sought to suppress the shame of their own history. This is perhaps the most challenging part of the book with silences still unacknowledged and – as in the various abuse scandals – with criminal investigations still ongoing.
This is a vast tapestry and MacCulloch uses his encyclopaedic knowledge to embroider a rich story. It is a book to dip into and ponder, ideal for the long winter nights when we may want to sit in silence and reflect on all that has happened. As MacCulloch says, 'Silence has its own eloquence', and this is an eloquent book.