I began taking a class at Pitts­burgh Theological Seminary, where I received my master of divinity degree. During our first ­intensive weekend of “Preaching in a Post-Christian Age,” a professor posed a question: Could it be that God is not speaking at this time? 

I was flabbergasted. Why would God not speak to us today?

Growing up in church, I learned that God speaks to us. We might hear God’s voice in the spectacular burning bush or in the whisper of the wind. Either way, God was speaking. 

If we didn’t hear, it was our fault. There are so many distractions. We aren’t good listeners. 

God was never the problem. It was always us.

My professor used the example of Samuel’s call in 1 Samuel 3. Samuel had been training under the priest Eli, who was old and could no longer see. His sons had defiled the tabernacle, and God was displeased. 

The first verse tells us: “The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.” 

This is different from how we typically imagine God. God is not even speaking to the priest Eli.

We might be uncomfortable with the idea of God not speaking, because we don’t like to imagine a world with no direction. If we believe God is active in our world, why would God not answer those who ask for guidance? What would happen to the church? Which direction would we go?

At first I rejected this idea. But, as I thought more about it, I decided that maybe there is room in our theology for a silent God. 

I look back to the moments when I — and others I have counseled — felt abandoned by God. We felt that we did not hear anything from God for a while. I even feel this way as a pastor at times. I am supposed to be the person most connected with God, but there are times when I feel like I am just spinning my wheels.

Why might God be silent? We trust that an all-knowing God is fully aware of the state of the world. It is not a shock to God that we are suffering from the sins of discrimination, greed and hate. Neither should it surprise us that the church has fallen out of favor with a lot of people — because churches in the United States have, in many cases, embraced the sin of White Christian nationalism. 

An all-knowing God might be silent during this time, as God was in the time that 1 Samuel 3:1 describes.

The question then becomes, “What do we do when God is not speaking?” Do we just sit and wait? Do we try harder to connect with God? 

I take heart in reading the rest of 1 Samuel 3. Verse 3 says “the lamp of God had not yet gone out.” This is right before Samuel hears a call from God. Though God had been silent for a while, God’s presence never left “the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was.” 

God can still be present, even when God is silent. For us, this means the church is never without God’s care.

It reminds me of when my wife, Sierra, and I tried to sleep-train our daughter, Orly. We used a method that required us to place her in her crib and sit in a chair as she fell asleep. We had to be very quiet and do our best to not get up and soothe her when she cried. 

The first days were hard as Orly kept crying, wanting to be held. But eventually the tears stopped, and she began to take comfort in our presence. She would even look back at us to make sure we were still in the room. 

Though we were silent, our presence ended up being enough for Orly to feel safe to sleep in her own bed. She now proudly sleeps in her own room, knowing we are close by and she is OK.

I believe the church will be OK because God, who is not surprised by what is happening in the world, is still present with us. 

I do not know why God seems ­silent at times. But I know that we, the church, must continue to do the work of loving mercy, doing justice and walking humbly, even when we do not know where we are going. We must work toward justice for all of creation, even when we do not know which direction God is pointing us. 

We continue to work and worship, knowing that God has not left us. And we keep listening for when God will speak again.