Reflection on the Silent Conversation

By Kgaugelo Habyane and Nomaswazi Madonsela

Niels Fran played softly in the background as we gathered for a silent conversation during Day 2 of the Jesuit Institute’s Winter Living Theology workshop. Participants were invited to respond in writing to the various questions posed on sheets of paper that had been laid on the tables.

Sacred stillness filled the room and the silence spoke volumes. Each written response carried the cries of a nation—fear, longing, hunger, and hope.

One of the questions that stood out: “How do we move from isolation to fellowship in a time of fear?” Their reflection carried us back to a South Africa once known for open yards, neighbourly visits, and safe night walks. Those days feel like memories now. Fear has taken root through rising crime, erecting invisible walls that separate us from one another. Crime has distorted God’s image of community, feeding on unemployment and hunger, creating a cycle of despair that leaves many isolated and distrustful.

Another question lingered in the silence: “Where do you go for spiritual nourishment?” It revealed a different, but related, hunger—the spiritual poverty that grips our nation. The pews of traditional churches are no longer as full, as many leave in search of charismatic leaders promising deliverance from hardship. Yet the longing for God has not disappeared. Today, nourishment is sought in podcasts, online gatherings, sacraments, and small prayer circles. The hunger remains, even if the places we turn to for food have shifted.

Both reflections point to the same truth: fear and spiritual poverty are reshaping our communities. Acts 2:42 paints another vision, where believers shared meals, met one another’s needs, and grew together in fellowship. This image feels distant in 2025, yet it remains our blueprint for hope.

What struck both of us in that silent circle was the reminder that the true light bearers of community are not always in pulpits or positions of power. They are ordinary people who, despite fear and hardship, persist in prayer, service, and small acts of love. Their hidden labour carries the seed of renewal for our communities.

Scripture reminds us that “God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind” (2 Timothy 1:7). Fear must not imprison our hearts or minds. Instead, we are called to awareness and action: to stand with those in need, to resist isolation, and to nurture spaces of nourishment and fellowship wherever we are.

Even in silence, the presence of the Lord was unmistakable. Together we felt the mix of despair and resilience, of fear and hope. It mirrored the state of our nation—confused, burdened, yet still yearning for light. Our task is to hold fast to faith, wisdom, and love, daring to believe that fellowship is still possible and that God is still at work among us.