Experiencing the presence of God in silence

It happened in church. The baptism was finished, the families had stopped taking their pictures, one by the baptismal font, one in front of the altar, one with extended family, one with just the family, one with the godparents, one with the grandparents... I stayed in the sacristy keeping busy, waiting for them to finish up. The church was noisy as everyone talked quite loudly, catching up, I suppose on events and news. Fifteen minutes passed, and then thirty. I lowered the lights, hoping they would get the hint to move on out of the church with their conversations. They finally did.

I locked up the church and came back inside. And there it was, the silence, the presence, the atmosphere I so loved in the monastery. And I wondered: why do we prefer to talk in church, to visit, to catch up? Why do we not want to experience the presence of God in the silence? It is so powerful....or is it?

Perhaps I first have to find the Presence in silence before I can appreciate the places of silence. Perhaps I have to experience the uselessness of words, the pit of unanswered prayers, the inability to find words, before I realize, I don't really need them to experience the Presence of the Divine One. I have to sit with that stillness forced upon me before I begin to realize, it carries Gift, it holds a Presence.

When I walked down the aisle of the church, everyone gone and the place quiet and still, the sun streaming through the stain-glass windows, I knelt down on one knee and bowed my head. I knew God was in this place.

Meditation changing life

We hear the benefits of meditation: calm, peace, and becoming centered. But my meditation should go further than just me...it should break forth into life.

It is easy in the world to live after the world's opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great person is she who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude." writes Ralph Waldo Emerson.

It is a good question to ask myself. Do I take what I learn in solitude and silence and bring it with me into the crowd?

If I don't, then what does it profit me?

The treasure hidden within

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross writes Learn to get in touch with the silence within yourself and know that everything in this life has a purpose.

Everything that happens to us in life has a purpose. Our job is to find the meaning hidden beneath the event. That’s where silence becomes such a benefit. It allows us the space and place to discover. Silence is like drops of quiet rain, giving life to the ground by breaking the shell of seeds and allowing them to bring forth that which is contained in the seed. Rain doesn’t add anything to a seed; it simply softens the hard covering so that what is inside that seed can come out. No seed will sprout without water.

Silence is like that. Often, darkness teaches us that kind of silence. Darkness can take away all thought, and leave us with feelings of emptiness. And if we sit before God with that emptiness, we find that in the darkness we are learning to discern God. And sitting in that darkness, waiting on God, we learn to listen in a different way. It’s as though the water of silence breaks the hard shell around our heart, and the life that we have within sprouts and begins to flourish. And what we truly are begins to blossom and mature. 

If you would give yourself a treat, take ten minutes a day to just “be”. Do not try to block thoughts; simply sit with your mind and try to unwind, directing your attention to the presence within you, the Divine presence.  You do not need words, only attention. If you do this long enough, you will find that treasure, because that treasure is within.

The call to the monastic setting

The mystique of the monastic setting draws people. Have you ever questioned why? Is it the architecture, the place, the people? Partly. But much of the mysterious attraction we feel comes from something deeper inside of us, something that calls us to put our cares aside, and spend some time in just being.

I believe that attraction comes from the unique silence found in monasteries. We do not know this type of silence in our busy and noisy world, because this silence is more than a mere absence of noise. It is a silence born of wonder, of awe, of awareness of someone.  It permeates a monastic setting, filling its halls and fields with a divine presence.  We go to monasteries because we can “feel” that presence and hope to immerse ourselves in it. 

Having lived many years in a monastery, I can readily identify with this ardent longing. I used to go back to my own monastery once a year to make a retreat because I needed to steep myself in the atmosphere of quiet and prayer, in presence and awareness, in awe and beauty. I would slip down for night prayer, a time when all doors were locked and I would be the only one in chapel. I would quietly take my place and listen to the chanting of night prayer. And as I sat there, time would melt away and I could remember my many years of silence, of sitting in stillness. I would let presence fill my soul, and lift me up above myself.  It was a time I deeply cherished.

But I gradually learned, I need not go to a monastery to find that presence. I too can make a cell within my own soul, a place of solitude, silence and awe. I can pray in that space, and immerse myself in that silence, in memory, and in awareness. 

Jean-Marie Howe, in Secret of the Heart, speaks to the ability we have to immerse ourselves in living prayer, writing: This interior transformation, this birth of spiritual being that takes place silently and secretly, in the very heart of our obscurity…is no mere ideal to which one can aspire but a mystery that can become a reality. 

Who would not like to “own” a monastery garden, where one could sit and contemplate within the beauty and spirit of the monastics? Who would not like the freedom to visit such a monastery gardeny, and be lifted up by the spirit of the Divine. It is not that far away. It is within each heart, though the silence of wonder, the awe of consciousness, the practice of living prayer within the chapel of our own soul. God waits there for us. It is his call that makes our hearts long.   

Sitting in Silence

When I think of Good Friday, I think of silence. As Christians, we have put a good "spin" on the events that we commemorate today. But in reality, this day had little good about it for those participating in the real thing. It was full of physical pain, anguish beyond words, and sorrow.

I think it is good to remember this because in each life there comes a time when one simply experiences pain without any redeeming qualities. And that is because pain by itself doesn't redeem. Pain can break, crush, and destroy souls. It is not something to be taken lightly or explained away.

Silence is our best response to pain and sorrow. Silence and openness. There are times not appropriate for answers, and we need only know someone cares. Jesus hung in agony, and someone did care, did stand there to be with him. She could not remove his pain or save him. But she could be there with him.

When we are going through a hard time, it is good not to seek answers. It is better to remember the divinity within ourselves and know we are not alone. It is better to sit in silence, being still before God.

On this Good Friday, let us spend some extra time in silence. Let us wrap it around us like a cloak and let it saturate us. In silence and stillness, let us remember this day of days long ago.

Sitting with Emptiness

Lately I've been watching the news more, anxious to know how things are going in Japan. But when I turn on the news, I see the same things reported over and over again. I realize part of this is the need for the news media to fill in their allotted time slot. Still, it wearies me.

But then I realize the same can happen in my spiritual life. I can feel the need to say a set number of prayers, or do a set time of meditation in order to "fill in" my time or keep to a schedule. In other words, my prayer life can itself become routine to the point of being insincere. How can I guard against that? Obviously, there will be times when it doesn't come easily or naturally. What to do? Go through the motions in the hope that it will return? I was taught that form of perseverance. But I no longer agree with it.

I think instead we should return to the thought of yesterday about dormancy. There are times when we do feel empty, with nothing to say. I'm not suggesting we forego meditation at those times. What I am suggesting is that instead of filling those times with rote prayers, we instead sit with our emptiness. We can be still before God, and wait upon the Lord. It is hard to do. But it is an important part of the process.

My problem has always been the fear of feeling empty. I've come to realize that this is part of being in the desert. There is a time for emptiness, a time for sitting in silence without a thought in our head. While we are waiting for inspiration, God is at work in our soul. The secret is to stay focused, to stay alive, to stay with God even though he seems far away. In time, when we look back, we shall see the fruits of such deeds.

We must train ourselves to accept this part of the journey, the "lost and tired of searching" chapter we all must go through. For by accepting our emptiness, we will come to the day when we exclaim with Peter, "Lord, it is good for us to be here!"

Being Present in Silence

All the silence in the world cannot give us what we want, because silence by itself is void. We must bring presence into that silence, presence that accompanies us in our search and in our stillness.

There are two types of presence. The first is presence with ourselves. How many times our blindness to simple things about ourselves keep us from an intimate relationship with God. It's not that we have failed to change. It is that we have failed to recognize our brokeness, our need for healing, the woundedness in our soul. Recognizing it is the first step toward healing.

The second presence we must develop is the Divine presence. We have that presence with us. We just do not allow ourselves to sit with it enough to become vividly aware of it. We think we must sit in a church, or a solitary place conducive to lifting the mind and heart to God. But God is within. You need not lift so much as open.

Being present allows us to be there to experience. It means our eyes are open and our hearts are listening. It means we are discerning more than looking, intuiting rather than surmising. It means that we have stepped down into the level of consciousness that sees below the surface and knows without having to be told.

Let us bring silence into our Lenten practices. And let us enter into that silence fully awake, fully aware, and with presence.

Letting Silence Lead

Silence is Golden

During Lent we often hear the need to "die to self". It's an ancient concept, one I hold is misleading. It gives the impression that all that is human is tainted, and that the only way to a spiritual life is to kill the human tendencies. Nothing could be more wrong.

Jesus never said we must "choose death". He said we must live in the light of truth. Moses says in Deuteronomy, I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse. Choose life, then, that you and your descendants may live, by loving the Lord, your God, heeding his voice, and holding fast to him.(30:19).

How do we heed the voice of God? Where is that voice heard? In contemplative prayer. Through contemplative prayer, we will discern which choice leads to life, and which leads to death.

Elizabeth of the Trinity writes The contemplative is a being who lives in the radiance of the Face of Christ, who enters into the mystery of God, not in the light that flows from human thought, but in that created by the word of the Incarnate Word.

Let us retreat into a period of silence and learn contemplative prayer. For contemplative prayer takes us beyond mere human enlightenment. It brings us into the light of the Divine. If we position ourselves daily before the Face of Christ, our choices will reflect life.

Silent Wonder of Presence

Ever notice how quiet things are when snow is falling? If you live in an area that gets snow regularly, you even "sense" snow by the special silence that accompanies the snowfall. Unlike rain, there is no pitter-patter. There is only silence, a wondrous, soul-filling, deep silence as it tumbles down from the sky.  As a kid, I used to love to look up as snow fell, watching the sky full of flakes crash together soundlessly as they whirled and floated through the air, down upon my face, settling and then melting.

God is sorta like snow. He comes in quiet and stillness. I think our major task in getting to really know God is learning how to be quiet and still. Be still and know that I am God says psalm 40:10. The second is dependant upon the first.

Richard Rohr makes this distinction absolutely necessary for the mystic gaze. It happens whenever, by some wondrous "coincidence," our heart space, our mind space, and our body awareness are all simultaneously open and nonresistant...It is experienced as a moment of deep inner connection, and it always pulls you, intensely satisfied, into the naked and undefended now, which can involve both profound joy and profound sadness. (Naked Now p 28)

As Christmas approaches, silence is a good way to appreciate the mystery. Jesus came in the month of December. Who can even say, that as he was brought forth, snow fell quietly from the sky, filling the world with the silent wonder that something new, something fresh was happening to the earth.

 

Into the Silence

I keep wanting to come back to the thought of silence. I think it is often misunderstood to be emptiness or a stagnant void. That is not silence; that is death.

Silence is an interior act, an active slowing down and unwinding. To acheive a fruitful silence of soul takes time and practice. Think of it as an awareness ever deepening, a slow decompression of stress, a period when the mind can come to rest and the heart is free to ponder and reflect.

In silence great thoughts are born, darkness is pierced, the soul revealed, the struggles sorted. Once you have experienced this saving power of silence, you will not want one day to pass without setting aside a quiet time to enjoy it.

Opening the Spirit

“While all things were in quiet silence, and the night was in the midst of her course, Thy Almighty Word leapt down from heaven from Thy royal throne.” (Wis. 18 :14-15)

Monasteries are places of silence. The stillness draws the individual to unwind and slow down, to decompress the hurried pace, to learn what it means "to be". Silence draws the Almighty down into the consciousness. But more. Silence lets us realize and know that the Almighty already dwells within.

All spiritual persons treasure silence because they know the value of slowing down, of letting go, of unwinding, unburdening, and letting oneself just "be". Silence is more to our nature than we think. And often, we find refuge in nature because of the silence it offers.

This Advent, make space for silence by carving out a time and a place to be still. Use props if you must. Jump start your thoughts with scripture if that helps. But do make the time for a period of deep silence. You will be amazed at what it will do to your life, and how the world of the spirit will open up to you.