I carefully consider everything that I write and share here, especially the more personal or contentious reflections. I rarely write and post on the same day. Not so with my speech. I find myself saying often enough, “Did I just say that out loud?” Words fly out of my mouth much faster than they flow from my pen or keyboard.
Perhaps this is why I enjoy journaling and writing so much. It slows my mind down. In silence, I can be more deliberate, careful, and organized in what I share. A healthy respect for silence could save me some angst in times when my mouth works faster than my mind.
At our annual oblate retreat, with the theme “Building Community Through Our Oblate Promises,” the importance of silence was the topic of the opening session led by Fr. Thomas Leitner, the administrator of St. Benedict Center and a monk who lives at the monastery across the road. Throughout the weekend, we would learn about and practice silence.
Why is silence so fundamental to Benedictine spirituality?
Silence is the way to self-knowledge. A discipline of silence confronts us with ourselves. “Silence is a way for us to put up with ourselves the way we are. Not everything that comes to mind at times of silence is pleasant. Repressed needs and wishes may come up, repressed anger, and perhaps missed opportunities,” Fr. Thomas shared. Silence gives our wounds space to surface, allowing us time to wrestle with and soothe our pain in healthy ways. Silence allows us to see ourselves unfiltered without the influence of others.
In The Interior Castle, St. Teresa of Avila uses imagery of a castle for our soul, emphasizing “how necessary this room (of self-knowledge) is…we shall never completely know ourselves if we don’t strive to know God.” She writes that God dwells within us, and to know God, we must first know ourselves. Hard, but necessary, work to “know thyself,” as the ancient Greek maxim suggests.
Silence connects us to the Divine. Seventh-century bishop and theologian, St. Isaac of Syria, writes:
Try to enter into your treasure house
and you will see the treasure of heaven.
For both the one and the other are the same,
and the one and the same entrance reveals them both.
The ladder leading to the kingdom is within you,
that is, in your soul.
We enter this “treasure house,” our very soul, through the practice of prayer. Some of us may be conditioned to think of prayer as a transactional bubble-gum-machine approach to asking God for what we want. We put in a coin; God supplies the big gumball. Our prayers are “answered.” Yet this is not the kind of prayer that leads to self-knowledge or to a connection with God. Consider a poem by the 19th-century Danish theologian Søren Kierkegaard that points to a different kind of prayer.
As my prayer
became more and more devout and interior,
there was less and less I had to say.
Finally I became completely still.
I became—
this is perhaps an even greater contrast to talking—
I became a listener.
First I thought praying is talking.
I learned, however, that praying is not only silence,
but listening.
That’s the way it is:
Praying does not mean hearing oneself speak,
praying means becoming still and being still
and waiting until I hear God.
-Søren Kierkegaard
Silence builds confidence and leads to self-respect.
“As my prayer became more and more devout and interior,” I come to know myself with greater depth. This knowing builds my confidence: I have been created just as I am, in the image of God. I forgive myself for weaknesses and celebrate my gifts. I seek less approval from others. I have “less and less” to say to justify, convince, or plead my case of worthiness to myself or others.
Teacher, writer, and friend, Parker Palmer, writes, “One of our most debilitating illusions (is) that the answer to our problems is always ‘out there’ somewhere, never ‘in here.’ It’s an illusion that’s constantly reinforced by educational and religious institutions that make us dependent on “experts” and “authorities.” We need not look for knowledge in others; we can trust our own interiority, the Divine Expert Within. I can grow in self-respect, knowing God is within me, intimately speaking to me when I am silent long enough.
Continue reading “10 Reasons Benedictines Love Silence” →
Being Benedictine 