“and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire and after the fire a sound of sheer silence.” (1 Kings 19:12)
Introduction
[1] The sound of sheer silence greeted me on my first morning in Egypt, a profound quiet that seemed to echo through the ages. Standing in this land shaped by one of humanity’s greatest ancient civilizations, I was filled with awe. The magnitude and enduring legacy of Egypt’s history made me feel both humbled and deeply inspired. I sensed my own smallness against the backdrop of a civilization that has sustained and nourished countless generations. It is in this remarkable setting that I was attending the Sixth World Conference on Faith and Order of the World Council of Churches (WCC), held in Wadi El Natrun, located between Cairo and Alexandria. From October 24th-28th in 2025, faith leaders gathered under the theme: “Where now for visible unity?” The Conference was hosted at the Logos Papal Center of the Coptic Orthodox Church.
[2] This reflection considers how experiencing silence during the Conference’s commemoration of the 1700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea can create a new perspective for Christian unity. This, in turn, provides theological affordances for our daily engagement with others, particularly those who are marginalized in the wider community. Discussing silence is especially challenging today, as life-threatening forces disrupt lives everywhere. In the United States, countless innocent people, including immigrants, abducted individuals, and those peacefully defending the rights of others have been silenced by state-sponsored terror and violence. How can anyone stay silent in the face of such injustice? Silence often serves as a mechanism to suppress dissent, replacing diverse voices with a single narrative. Yet, silence can also interrupt our self-centered motives and open space for positive changes. This article explores how the divine intervenes and transforms silence from a tool of erasure into a space for life-affirming possibilities.
From Erasure to Liberation: The Redemptive Power of Silence
[3] Silence is often perceived as something negative, a presence that unsettles us. When silence falls, it exposes our inner uncertainties, making us aware of our doubts and insecurities. This discomfort can become so intense that we instinctively try to look for distractions to avoid facing ourselves. In social situations, awkward silences are rarely tolerated; people rush to speak, to laugh, or to comment, even if the words mean little. Moreover, silence can be deliberately used as a tool for harm. It is sometimes employed to exclude or control, to manipulate relationships by withholding communication or affection. For example, the act of ‘ghosting,’ which is abruptly cutting off contact, can cause deep emotional distress. Intentional silence can serve as a form of punishment, making others feel invisible or unworthy. In these ways, silence is not just absence; it can be an active force that shuts down dialogue, connection, and understanding.
[4] Yet, silence is not merely an absence or a threat; it can also be a profound space for preparation. In spiritual life, silence is often essential for creating the openness needed to truly listen for the voice of God. It is in sheer silence that things happen; the Lord’s word comes in and can only be heard in and through that silence. Silence, then, is not a passive void but an active space where the heart and mind can become attuned to deeper truths. In quiet moments, we make room for reflection, humility, and the possibility of genuine encounter with the divine. The discomfort of silence, rather than being something only to avoid, becomes a necessary passage. It prepares us to receive, to wait, and to discern what God might be speaking, which happens not in the whirlwind of chatter, but in the stillness that invites us to deeper awareness. When God speaks into that silence, it becomes a life-transforming moment, breaking the stillness and guiding us toward truth and freedom.
[5] During the five-day event in Egypt, over 400 delegates and guests gathered for worship, prayer, plenaries, section meetings, and workshops. Each day was dedicated to one of the core themes, (i.e. faith, mission, and unity), allowing participants to listen deeply, engage in meaningful dialogue, and develop practical strategies for fostering Christian unity both locally and globally. One of our central tasks was to draft a message affirming the crucial importance of Christian unity in these turbulent times. The resulting document, “Deepening Unity, Journeying in Love, Restoring Hope: Ecumenical Affirmation,” was shaped by many hands and hearts passing through draft after draft, marked by tears, anger, frustration, joy, and gratitude. As we commemorated the 1700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea – a historic assembly that sought to articulate the church’s core beliefs and formalize them into a shared creed, we confronted a sobering truth: despite the passage of time, the challenges facing the church and the world have not necessarily improved and may not in the future.
[6] We found ourselves gathered in this in-between moment, lamenting the persistent realities of conflict, injustice, and deepening divisions. It was in this context that we recognized the importance of silence. Silence is more than the absence of words; it is a sacred space to acknowledge our smallness and limitations, and to quiet our own agendas. In that shared silence, we make room for humility and genuine reflection, preparing ourselves to engage in discussions about challenges far larger than any single perspective. In this way, silence becomes the essential step for unity, reminding us that only through collective effort can we hope to address the complex issues before us. The sound of silence calls us to actively seek unity and community in a world marked by division and pain. Silence prepares us to take the next step toward true togetherness or conviviality, where Christians and friends from diverse backgrounds connect in a shared search for meaning on life’s journey.
[7] From this vantage point, commemorating the work of the Council of Nicaea and even confessing the Nicene faith is not an act of triumphalism, but of vulnerability and humility: an opportunity to repent, to truly listen, and to let go of what we cling to for security. In doing so, we open ourselves to the guidance of the Holy Spirit and begin to recover the voices that have been suppressed simply because they are different.
Silence Reimagined: Theological Affordances for Our Daily Behaviors towards the Other
[8] The power of silence, especially when connected with vulnerability, creates real opportunities for meaningful interaction in everyday life. I refer to these as theological affordances, which are not simply abstract ideas, but practical guides that shape how Christians see themselves, relate to others, and act toward strangers in the broader community. By “strangers,” I am particularly drawn to consider immigrants and their experiences in the United States during Trump’s second presidency.
[9] When President Donald Trump assumed office in January, 2025, he vowed to launch the largest mass deportation in American history, targeting over 10 million unauthorized migrants. As of early January, 2026 more than 350,000 people had been arrested and deported since Donald Trump took office.[1] Close to 70,000 people are currently in detention centers having been detained by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). Both undocumented immigrants and lawful permanent residents are being swept up in this crackdown. Each day, these policies tear families apart and create a climate of fear that is spreading rapidly across communities nationwide.
[10] It is important to be clear, again: rethinking silence in a positive way does not mean endorsing or excusing unjust treatment toward those who are silenced. I do not wish to minimize the harm caused by those who intentionally silence others, nor do I suggest that people enduring injustice should simply remain silent or accept unequal and harmful relationships. I speak from personal experience as someone with a minoritized status in the United States. I have been, and continue to be, silenced in many aspects of life – including but not limited to – ghosted, misunderstood, and denied the space to explain myself or be heard. Too often, people from backgrounds like mine have our perspectives dismissed as irrelevant or untrustworthy. No matter how hard an immigrant works, they are often regarded as less important, rarely prioritized, and expected to give everything just to prove their worth. What is even more alarming is that society, including some who identify as Christians, increasingly weaponize anger and anxiety against people like us, labeling us as menacing strangers, denying our humanity, and disregarding the sacred reality that we are also bearers of God’s image.
[11] His Holiness Pope Tawadros II of the Coptic Orthodox Church opened the conference by emphasizing that engaging in theological dialogue is not about erasing or ignoring differences but about discovering the deep faith that binds the church together. But how do we do that? I believe we need to return to the ancient wisdom of silence. As previously noted, it is often in silence that we discern God’s voice. When God speaks into that silence, the stillness is broken, transforming our lives and guiding us toward truth and freedom. This immediately calls to mind the story in 1 Kings 19:11-13, where God instructs Elijah to stand on the mountain as the Lord is about to pass by. The Lord is not in the powerful wind that tears the mountains and breaks rocks, nor in the earthquake that follows, nor in the blazing fire. Instead, after all these dramatic events, Elijah hears a gentle whisper: a small, still voice. Recognizing this, Elijah covers his face and steps to the entrance of the cave. It is in this moment of sheer silence that God speaks to him. The very voice of God emerges from the silence, breaking it and making God’s presence known.
[12] God’s silence is not the same as God’s absence. Rather, in God’s silence, we often discover God’s presence in new ways, revealing deeper meaning to us. God does not always appear in the places we expect or desire. When we try to confine God to certain spaces or situations that fit our own expectations, we may overlook the real opportunities to encounter the divine. God is not bound to serve our agendas. Instead, it is often in the most unexpected times and places that God truly speaks, surprising us and inviting us to expand our understanding of where and how the divine is present. This challenges us to remain open and attentive, even in moments or spaces we might otherwise overlook. In this way, we are invited to enter into silence; it is the silence that quiets our personal agendas and self-serving intentions. By doing so, we become more attentive to the subtle whispers around us. Sometimes, the quiet voices of others may be the very way God is trying to speak to us, compelling us to listen with openness and humility.
[13] This principle applies not only to ecumenical relationships but also to the routines of our daily lives as we practice our faith. It challenges us to consider how we treat the marginalized in our communities, especially those who are despised, rejected, or dehumanized. As mentioned earlier, immigrants are among the most deeply affected and vulnerable groups. Sadly, what is truly a matter of life and death has been unnecessarily politicized. At its core, this is a theological issue that speaks to our calling to be fully human. It is an ethical issue that demands we treat others rightly and justly. It is also a concern for the church, compelling us to show compassion and solidarity in visible ways, every day. First and foremost, this means those with power must practice restraint, i.e., remaining silent so that the voices of the vulnerable and marginalized can be heard.
[14] As we commemorate the 1700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea and recite the Nicene Creed each Sunday, we are reminded of voices that have been silenced for years. Listening to these hidden voices that come in counterpoint is a call to justice and reconciliation. Because it uncovers truths that challenge dominant narratives and expose areas where institutions have fallen short of equity and equality. This honest engagement paves the way for healing, as it allows those who have been wounded to express their experiences and be validated.
[15] Furthermore, the voices of others are crucial in helping us reimagine who God is, for it is often in moments of silence that God speaks, breaking the silence to remember all who are created in God’s own image. Understanding the stranger thus means recognizing them as more than subjects to be analyzed for our own knowledge. Strangers have agency: they make choices, hold dreams, show kindness, and pursue justice. They are not simply waiting to be saved; in fact, they have much to teach us about life. Through their experiences of marginalization, strangers reveal God’s salvation daily and offer praise in their own unique ways. By listening to their stories, our perspectives are widened. This reminds us that our role is not to be saviors, but learners, called to recognize God’s greatness revealed in the faces of strangers.
Concluding Remarks
[16] Silence, although it may feel uncomfortable at first, is something we can learn to value and cherish. In this quiet space, we are challenged to broaden our perspectives on faith and community, particularly by listening to the stories and experiences of those who have been marginalized. Their voices invite us to intentionally seek out and honor all of God’s creation.
[17] When we enter into silence and truly listen, we become open to transformation. The divine can break into our routines through the voices of those who have been silenced, exposing our tendency to focus on ourselves and calling us to move beyond self-aggrandizement and self-promotion. The triune God is able to reshape our hearts and communities in ways that lead to collective renewal. Setting aside our own agendas is essential for Christian unity in times of deep division. This process especially calls those with privilege and power to repentance and change, making possible the building of relationships grounded in mutual respect and understanding. In this spirit, we can build a life together and flourish convivially.
[1] Statistics taken from Will Craft and Andrew Witherspoon, ”By the numbers: the latest ICE and CBP data on arrests, detentions and deportations in the US.” The Guardian. January 9, 2026. Theguardian.com
Man-Hei Yip is Associate Professor of Systematic Theology at Wartburg Theological Seminary in Dubuque, Iowa. She has served as a Visiting Researcher at Boston University School of Theology and has worked for the Lutheran World Federation in Switzerland and Cambodia. Yip is the author of "Interrogating the Language of 'Self' and 'Other' in the History of Modern Christian Mission" and has contributed to various works on ecclesial practices, Lutheran catechism, and global Lutheranism. Her scholarship focuses on religion, language, immigration, and diaspora from a postcolonial perspective.