December 19, 2023

Silence.

When I was in spiritual direction training, each of our monthly sessions began in silence.

Each of us enrolled in the program entered the gathering space quietly. We greeted each other with hugs or smiles or nods of our heads and then, sitting in a circle, we sat in silence. Not just for 30 seconds, but for minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. Never quite long enough for me.

I loved that time. Needed that time, and how surprising that was, for I had driven the six hours, often alone, from Cleveland to Lebanon, PA the night before and then retired to my small, dorm-like room in the retreat center. A night of silence.

How could I desire yet more silence?

I recall our program director saying, “Let’s move into silence.” (That was over 25 years ago, so I can’t vouch for the complete accuracy of my memory.)

MOVE into silence. Such an interesting concept, that is. The idea that we are called to MOVE into silence. To enter silence deliberately, intentionally.

Is that what the Wise Ones did as they followed the star? Did they hold on to the reins of their camels and lumber along in silence, only nodding to one another at a moment of decision? And somehow they got just where they needed to be.

I remember another journey taken mostly in silence. It was December of 2002, almost Christmas, and I was driving by myself, as I often did, from Cleveland to Minnesota. My mother was dying of colon cancer, and it was clear this would be her last Christmas. She seemed to be doing well at the moment, but I knew how quickly that could change.

Normally, I listened to the radio in the car, following the NPR stations as I drove that 14 hour journey. Sometimes I listened to an audio book. On that trip, however, I drove in silence much of the time. I thought about what I would say at my mother’s funeral. I conversed with God about all that had occurred in recent months, but most of the time I just drove. I moved forward in silence, into silence.

The silence helped prepare me for whatever was ahead.

Each Wednesday evening during Advent our congregation gathers for evening prayer, and during the service we sit in silence two different times. A gong is struck, an invitation to move into silence, and other than a child’s squeaks or the brief rustling as we settle into the quiet, the sanctuary is silent.

We are silent together.

Perhaps the time until the gentle tinkling of the bells signals the transition from silence to the next stage of the service feels long for some of those present. It is never long enough for me, even though much of my days are spent in silence, working at my desk, reading in the snug, meditating at the beginning of the day. There is something different about sitting in silence with others, however.

When we are silent together, we create silence and respond to silence, enlarging and deepening it. We rest in it, but also awaken to its gifts. I am aware of the breathing around me and feel supported by that life. I sense the Presence among us.

I felt that when I sat in silence with my spiritual direction colleagues all those years ago. I feel that at the beginning of a spiritual direction session when my directee and I sit in silence. And I feel that way Wednesday evenings when we sit in silence in the barely lit sanctuary.

I suspect the Wise Ones felt that as they followed the star in silence. Perhaps the camels were even silent.

May you create space in your life for the gift of silence.

An Invitation

What role does silence play in your life? I would love to know.

NOTE:

I will post on Thursday, December 21, but then will take a week off to honor the Christmas holiday. I will return the week of January 1.