Sit and Stay Awhile

On Seeking Silence

One of the most comforting aspects of a church is its silence. A holy, inviolate silence that is overwhelming: when one steps through the doors of a church and one genuflects, one’s voice hushes. There is an unwillingness to break the sacredness of quietude. There is nothing to do but sit in the pew and wait: and, either embrace the opportunity to turn inward and prepare for the mass, or to (far more tempting) pull out one’s phone for a few minutes.

Soon enough, an organ or the voices of a choir summon one back to the task at hand. The silence is over and the communal offering of prayer through the Mass has begun. Though music is an important aspect of the liturgy, and, indeed, “the prayer of the heart,” there is an equal time for the reflective depth of silence; one that is often missed. It is easy to lose oneself in music, or in chanting, or in the repetition of prayers. But when everything has quieted down, then one is confronted with one’s thoughts. It is easy to forget where you are with noise; it is imperative to remember where you are in the silence. 

Often, silent meditation and prayer is dismissed as a practice for monks and nuns, who have made vows and devoted themselves to perpetual prayer. After all, they don’t have anything else to do but pray quietly all day. But the Psalms remind us to “be still and know God” (46:10), regardless of whether we have committed to an ascetic or conjugal life. It is as important for the layperson to set aside time for silence as it is for one in an order. Perhaps silence invites distraction: or, silence offers us the opportunity to not succumb to distraction. Perhaps silence is difficult to come by: or, silence  is the deliberate setting aside of time for the Divine. In the modern world  especially, where we are beset with the temptations of social media, screens, and endless TV, the ability to find that quiet time and space has become even more difficult and therefore, even more crucial. To give up the noise of the world is a great sacrifice. Like precious nuggets of gold, time must be mined out of the rigid schedule of a week. 

As I wrote in my essay, The Beauty in the Fast, “The Lenten Mass, in its silence, offers the chance for the congregation to join in deeper union with the prayer of the priest. There is no chance of distraction by music or ornate decorations.” In this period of fasting and mortification, the Church places an especial emphasis on the quality of silence. A virtue often touted, for “speaking is silver, but silence is gold.” However, silence does not only belong to the penitential season. Our penance, as sinners, is not limited to parts of the year.  As fallen people, we are constantly seeking union and reunion with God, as we fail and try again to be holy. We enact the cycle of reconciliation every day, every minute of our lives. Therefore, for our interior lives, silence remains paramount as a chance to set aside distraction, and seek communion. In the Orthodox Divine Liturgy, the celebrant cries out, at key moments, “Let us be attentive!” That reminder is not limited to them. Catholics, too, must “be attentive!” to God’s commands. If one is constantly inundated by sound, one will miss them. For God speaks in whispers (1 Kings 19:12,  Isaiah 30:21).

While it is equally fruitful to find time for silent recollection at home or at church, the distraction-free environment of the Church is especially helpful. Already in a place full of holiness and in the presence of the consecrated host, there are several focal points to which one can anchor one’s attention, so that one does not become distracted with unnecessary thoughts. Focusing on a painting, a statue, or a particular devotion can help guide one’s mind towards union with God. The repetitive nature of the Rosary is perfect for meditating on the mysteries; the Stations of the Cross are another meditative and repetitive set of prayers.  The Church boasts hundreds of beautiful prayers written to be recited or prayed before and after Mass or Communion. They are severely neglected, as often, it is a rush out the door to greet the priest and then go on with one’s day. Picking one or two from the treasury of saintly writings can strengthen one’s appreciation for the sacrament of the Eucharist and the beauty of the Mass. Silence is also conducive to close and careful reading of the Bible, or other holy writings. Or, even, simply focusing on the person and name of Christ.

Silence is difficult. It is not a comfortable state to rest in. However, that only makes it all the more important to cultivate as a practice for drawing us closer to the Lord. Embrace the silence, when it presents itself to you; and rather than trying to fill it with ceaseless and meaningless noise, seek more of it, and find God’s whispers in it.