Breaking the Silence

What My Cardiac Arrest During Meeting for Worship Taught Me

In theory, speaking during meeting for worship breaks a community’s silence with a message from the Light. As such, the inclination to speak should await a clear leading. And the potential speaker should weigh the message carefully and at length, to discern whether the message is intended for themselves or for others.

Honolulu (Hawaii) Meeting, where I’ve been attending for over two years, has occasional formal discussions about how to determine whether a message rises to the level of vocal ministry. We watch videos. We talk about types of messages not to deliver. Our meeting shares a flowchart to help guide a person through this weighty decision:

• Step 1: Message input from within?
• Step 2: Message intended for anyone but you?
• Step 3: Message intended for anyone but you this minute?
• Step 4: And so on . . .

Answer yes to any of the questions, and you move down the flowchart. Answer no, and the instructions are to “return to center,” meaning to be quiet and listen some more.

As a relative newcomer to Quakerism, after studying all this, I decided to hold off speaking in meeting, if at all possible, for fear of getting it wrong. Most people at our meeting sit the hour in silence anyway. I figured I wouldn’t stand out for taking the quiet path.

All the when-to-speak training kicked in forcefully during silent worship on March 2, in the few seconds before I lost consciousness from a cardiac arrest. I suddenly felt extremely unwell. I was in such distress that I would have spoken up or grabbed someone’s arm had I been sitting at a restaurant or in a movie theater—as a matter of fact, in any place except Quaker meeting. But in my chair during silent worship, I did nothing. I thought about speaking up. But, having integrated the speak-or-not flowchart into my way of thinking, the following conversation blazed through my head in a split second.

     Flowchart: Message input from within? Yes.

     Flowchart: Message intended for anyone but you? Well, not exactly. It’s my body. And it’s telling me it’s in high distress.

     Flowchart: That’s not a yes. Be quiet. Figure it out yourself.

A few seconds later, there was nothing left to figure out. I was dead—flatlined for about a minute before my heart brought itself back without intervention.

Looking back, I realize I made a rookie error. I was focused on meeting for worship as a silent experience for everyone, forgetting that it is also a communal experience. I thought of myself at that moment as an isolated individual, separated from others, someone whose cry for help would disturb the meeting. I valued everyone else over myself, not remembering that I am part of everyone else’s experiences too. My subsequent event affected all people in the room.

After I fell over in my chair, the entire meeting rose to help me. If I had spoken, even one word, “Help,” more people would have been aware more quickly. The outcome would not have changed. But my friends would have known something was amiss and that I had noticed it. My breaking the silence would have bound us together, even after I was no longer an active participant in what took place.

I sit in silent worship differently now. I feel not only the silence but also the potential for giving voice to something pressing. I understand that the needs of each member are as important as that of the meeting as a whole. I understand that we sometimes feel a sudden, urgent need to speak, and that these needs may be spiritual or physical in origin. And now I understand we should give them voice.

Message intended for anyone but you? I no longer test with only this question. I also test with, Message affects the community? Because one of the precious attributes of Quaker meeting is that we are not alone. We are with people who listen, and who can help.