To Speak of Silence is a Paradox...
...but paradox is the common tongue of mysticism
Elton John and Bernie Taupin once wrote a song called “This Song Has No Title.” It’s the fifth track on his 1973 album Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. It’s not the most memorable of tunes — although it’s famous as a song where Elton played every instrument on it himself, it hasn’t been performed live since the year it was released; furthermore, on the CD, it appears right after three of the album’s four biggest hits, and right before “Grey Seal,” which is arguably one of the best of Elton’s deep cuts. So even if you’re an Elton John fan, you could easily miss this one.
I’ve always rather liked this humble track, if only for its clever title. To call it “This Song Has No Title” is to christen it with an inherent paradox. The song does have a title, only one that tells a lie about itself. It’s rather like saying, “I’m telling a lie right now.” You can’t sincerely admit to telling a lie without paradoxically also speaking the truth — and if you really were lying about lying, doesn’t that mean that there’s an ironic truthfulness in your deceiving words? Yes, I know; it gives me a headache too.
This kind of silly wordplay is relevant, I think, to the language of mysticism. Mystics and contemplatives dive deep into a place where they make their hearts available to the life-transforming presence of the Spirit. Such a place is shaped by deep silence: to try to describe it is necessarily to diminish it and to create a pale imitation of it. But if we don’t try to talk about the experience of mystical silence, we fail to share it with one another. We need words to talk about the encounter with God, but every word that reveals God also conceals God.
If you desire God, or long for an experience of God, or believe you have actually had an experience of God, then you are faced with the dilemma that the only tool you have for sharing this with others is one that will ultimately fail both you and God. It has been said that, “translators are traitors” — to translate a book from one language to another means always betraying the richness of the author’s original words. To put mysticism into words is just another type of translation. Yes, it is a betrayal. But one worth having anyway: for silence, as rich as it is, needs the words of our stories, just like a precious jewel needs a setting.
Join Carl McColman May 14-20 for a special online retreat experience: Meditating with the Mystics. For more information, click here.