“Silence is
solitude practiced in action.” – Henri Nouwen
“Don’t just do something. Sit there.” This was the title of a message Haddon
Robinson preached in 1991 on Luke 10:38-42. In that passage Luke recounts the
story of Jesus’ visit to the house of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. If you’re familiar
with the story, you’ll remember that Martha was bustling about, trying to
prepare a huge feast for her visitors (remember Jesus had at least 12 men in
tow with him). Her sister Mary, meanwhile, simply sat at Jesus’ feet, letting
Martha do all the work while she spent time with Jesus. This naturally perturbed
Martha, who finally had enough and complained to her guest that he needed to
send Mary to help her in the kitchen. Instead, Jesus refused, saying that Mary
had chosen the better thing, and it wouldn’t be taken away from her.
Sometimes we can be so caught up in human doings that we
lose sight of the fact that we are human beings, created and designed for
intimacy with God. The spiritual discipline of silence helps to realign our
hearts with this truth.
Before silence can happen, solitude must first exist. “Silence
is the way to make solitude a reality,” Henri Nouwen once wrote (The Way of
the Heart). For more on solitude, check the previous blog entry for my
thoughts on that
WHAT IS SILENCE?
At the heart of silence is listening. It’s impossible to
listen when we ourselves are talking. But this listening should not be to the
world or people around us, but rather a listening for God. God rarely shouts. His
word to us is often whispered. Only those who still their tongues, quiet their
hearts, and remove all the distractions this world affords will be able to
catch such a whisper. We live in a loud world; it screams and shouts in its
demands for attention. The Prince of this world wants nothing more than to pull
us farther and farther away from the God who created, saved, and loves us. In order
to draw nearer to him, we must enter into quietness.
According to Nouwen, there are three phases in the
transformational power of silence. Silence is a journey, an encounter, and a
testimony.
Since speaking is the way of the world and often leads us
into sin (cf. James 3), entering into silence is like taking a pilgrimage to
another land. By definition, a pilgrimage is a journey, usually a long one, often
made to a sacred place. By entering into silence, we take a trip from the loud
world around us to a quiet, separate place, an alternate reality, if you will.
Of course, most religious devotees go on a pilgrimage to
a sacred place in order to experience a greater awareness of God, or at the
least, receive some manner of blessing from him. The inward journey of silence
allows us to encounter the Spirit who dwells within us. When we close our
mouths (including our inner voice) and remove ourselves from all the
distractions around us, we can come near the inner fire of the Spirit.
Imagine your normal routine being like a house on a cold
winter’s night with every door and window thrown open. Yes, there is a fire in
the hearth, but the cold and the wind are pervasive. It’s hard to feel the heat
at all. Entering into silence is like going around and closing all those doors
and windows to the outside. Slowly then the heat from the hearth builds until
it gives comfort and peace and assurance. So it is with the warmth of the
Spirit when we can shut out all other distractions, including our own words. It
is in this context that we can rest and listen for the soft whisper of the
Master, the whisper that says, “I love you. No matter what you do or what is done to you, I will never stop loving you. You are mine. I will never leave
you or forsake you.” In our brokenness, battling our hurts, hang-ups, and
habits, we desperately need to hear such whispers, and hear them often.
In its final stage, our experience with silence leads us
to bear testimony of it. The whisper of God that we catch in the silence of our
interior lives becomes a beautiful and powerful secret that we cannot keep to ourselves.
The culmination of silence is, oddly enough, the ministry of the word, where
our message to others brings healing, hope, peace, joy, and above all, love.
Think about it. How often have you walked away from a
conversation thinking to yourself, “Well, that could have gone better!” Or, “Why
didn’t I think to say that?” How often are our words more hurtful or harmful
than helpful? The discipline of silence will help us to change that trend.
HOW DO WE PRACTICE SILENCE?
It is important to note that the goal of this discipline
is not to create an empty silence, but rather a full silence, a silence permeated
with the presence of God.
As silence comes from within the context of solitude, it
is critical to find a safe place and an undisturbed time to practice it. Find a
location and a time of the day that works for you. Next, eliminate distractions.
Turn off your phone. Lock out the cats. If you’re going to be distracted by checking
the clock, set a timer. Whatever distraction can be removed from your space,
remove it.
Next, listen. At first this will be a struggle. All the things
swirling about in your mind will start to scream for attention. Resist
attending to them. Your inner voice will tell you this is a waste of time.
Ignore it. Your mind will wander. Order it hack to your place of silence. This
whole exercise will seem impossible and hopeless at first, but if you stick
with it, silence will come easier and easier.
Sometimes when I am greatly distracted with a great many
things, I will turn to a centering prayer. I’ll blog more about them in a later
post, but a centering prayer is generally two lines long, slowly repeated over
and over, with the first line on our inhalation, and the second line on our
exhalation. My go-to centering prayer is this:
(Inhale) I am your beloved son/daughter, whom you love;
(Exhale) With me you are well-pleased.
This “centers” me on the truth of this prayer that I can
claim because I am in Christ. (Since the Father said it of Jesus, and since I am
now in Jesus, the Father says it of me.) When I get to that point of focus, I
then invite God into the space this has created, and I become still and silent.
And I listen.
Sometimes I catch that whisper. Sometimes I don’t.
Regardless of how it goes, I conclude my time of silence with a prayer of
thanksgiving.
In his book Ordering Your Private World, Gordon
MacDonald compares the stories of Moses and Aaron when the people of Israel were
encamped at the foot of Mt. Sinai. Moses spent forty days and nights in
silence, listening to the word God had for him. Aaron, on the other hand, spent
that same amount of time listening to the people around him. One heard the love
and affirmation of God and was encouraged to fulfill God’s call on his life;
the other heard the complaints and criticisms of the people, and was so discouraged
he disastrously gave the people what they wanted instead of what they needed. How
you and I finish in this life will depend a great deal upon to whom or what we
listen.
The fruit of silence is a powerful word from God that we
cannot keep to ourselves. I encourage you to give the discipline of silence,
with its sister discipline of solitude, a try some time.
Grace and peace.