Deafening Decibels
Stories
Lectionary Tales For The Pulpit
Series IV Cycle C
My neighbor across the street stopped by one day to tell me he had petitioned the city council for a variance that would permit him to build an 8-foot, or a 10-foot fence on his property along 20th Avenue, a street that our property also bounded. He hoped the new fence would serve to buffer the noise created by the thousands of cars that passed his house every day. He hoped that I would not only support his request, but write a letter articulating that support. I said I would do him one better: I would go with him to the hearing and speak out in favor of the variance.
At the meeting, I spoke about the American need to have all neighborhoods look the same; how we valued a culture of architectural uniformity, sameness, and blandness. I said that I prefer an aesthetic not of uniformity but of quietude and reminded the commissioners that we have a right to live peaceably in our own homes, free from the noise pollution that plagues so many of our communities.
The council didn't buy it, and turned down our neighbor's request. So we continue to live with the sounds of buses passing by, motorcycles gearing up as they speed past our house, diesel pickups rumbling by, not to speak of the thousands of cars carrying drivers to a downtown location, or back to their homes in the suburbs.
But traffic noise is just a small part of the love-affair we have with the loud and the boisterous. Commercials are decibels louder than the programs they sponsor. Most of the sounds that pierce our eardrums these days were introduced within the past decade. The noise is everywhere: Car stereos with sub-woofers on the back dashboard announce their arrival from three blocks away. Then you've got your jet engines, chainsaws, rock concerts, boom boxes, trains and subways, and more adding to the mix.
Even my wife's hairdryer: when she turns that thing on, it sounds like a Triple 7 Boeing taking off full throttle. I ask you: How am I supposed to sleep in the mornings when she fires that thing up?
But can noise be a good thing? Of course. When there is danger, you want to have an alarm that will wake you out of your sleep and call attention to the peril at hand.
That's what the prophet Joel is saying here. "Blow the trumpet in Zion; sound the alarm on my holy mountain!" On this Ash Wednesday, we have an opportunity to wake up, to hear God's call to repentance, and to heed his summons to renewal and reformation.
At the meeting, I spoke about the American need to have all neighborhoods look the same; how we valued a culture of architectural uniformity, sameness, and blandness. I said that I prefer an aesthetic not of uniformity but of quietude and reminded the commissioners that we have a right to live peaceably in our own homes, free from the noise pollution that plagues so many of our communities.
The council didn't buy it, and turned down our neighbor's request. So we continue to live with the sounds of buses passing by, motorcycles gearing up as they speed past our house, diesel pickups rumbling by, not to speak of the thousands of cars carrying drivers to a downtown location, or back to their homes in the suburbs.
But traffic noise is just a small part of the love-affair we have with the loud and the boisterous. Commercials are decibels louder than the programs they sponsor. Most of the sounds that pierce our eardrums these days were introduced within the past decade. The noise is everywhere: Car stereos with sub-woofers on the back dashboard announce their arrival from three blocks away. Then you've got your jet engines, chainsaws, rock concerts, boom boxes, trains and subways, and more adding to the mix.
Even my wife's hairdryer: when she turns that thing on, it sounds like a Triple 7 Boeing taking off full throttle. I ask you: How am I supposed to sleep in the mornings when she fires that thing up?
But can noise be a good thing? Of course. When there is danger, you want to have an alarm that will wake you out of your sleep and call attention to the peril at hand.
That's what the prophet Joel is saying here. "Blow the trumpet in Zion; sound the alarm on my holy mountain!" On this Ash Wednesday, we have an opportunity to wake up, to hear God's call to repentance, and to heed his summons to renewal and reformation.
