The Power of Speaking from Silence


Ken Shumard graduated to glory last week. If you don’t have connections with Churches of Christ in Atlanta, you likely don’t know who he was, but Ken was a powerful man of God who liked to work in the background. If you didn’t know his name, he would be pleased about that, but he did want you to know Jesus’ name and follow him.

Ken was a great businessman who built a successful organization in the medical space which he sold to his employees in 2008. He then turned the resources this generated into a foundation that served as a powerful philanthropic instrument as well as an investment vehicle to raise additional money for kingdom projects.

However, that is just the work side of Ken. He was a deep disciple who loved Jesus, God’s kingdom, his family, and his community, and he never made things about himself. He served in many capacities in the local church and in local and global ministries. Among his many roles, Ken was on the MRN board when I arrived in 2010 and stayed on our board for a decade or so before health concerns made it too difficult to continue.

There is no counting all the good Ken did through his wisdom, investment in people's lives, leadership, and philanthropy. I only know a tiny fraction of it, and my purpose here is not to eulogize him. He would be very uncomfortable with that, and I am not the proper person to do it. I won’t try to capture all the kingdom projects, many in the Christian education area, that I know he supported because there are far more I don’t know about. I know he was committed to high-impact, innovative, and educational ministries that brought profound cultural transformation.

I just want to share some of the things I learned from Ken. As much as Ken wanted people to know Jesus and have eternal life in him, he taught me to pursue a vision for the holistic transformation in this life that only Jesus’s kingdom can bring. Ken believed we should swing for the fences because he didn’t think anything was too big for our God. Not every venture has to succeed, but they should never be constrained because we are afraid to dream big and aim high. He was not just a passive donor to other people’s visions. He discerned visions from God and found partners to make them a reality. The number of people whose lives will be transformed because of Ken’s influence will be in the hundreds of thousands, and virtually none of them will have a clue who he was. That would please Ken tremendously. He also spoke about what “we” were going to do, even if he was almost single-handedly funding it. Ken didn’t like the word “I.”  It was never about Ken.

Often the kind of big vision and passion Ken embodied come with big personalities dominating every room they enter. Not Ken. He rarely spoke in a meeting. He listened, he thought deeply, and he asked good questions. He also held his counsel closely. If I wanted to know what Ken thought about what was happening at MRN, I needed to go to Atlanta and talk with him in the privacy of his office, not expect him to lay it all out in a board meeting. When Ken spoke, he spoke out of silence and deep reflection. That is the biggest lesson I am still trying to learn from him. The most potent word comes out of silence and speaks only when asked and when it can be heard.

I tend to be anxious and try to control everything around me with excess words. I want to frame the narrative, shape the dialogue, and make sure everyone sees what I see. Not Ken. In his humility and maturity, he didn’t feel the need to control the room. He didn’t share things he didn’t think people could hear. He spoke when and where it mattered. Until then, he listened and contemplated things deeply. Then, if he felt called to do something, he did it as quietly as possible. He kept the main thing the main thing. I hope one day I can be more like Ken. Until then, I thank God for allowing me to know him.