Silence.

Silence.  ” … since the spirit of silence is so important, permission to speak should rarely be granted even to perfect disciples, even though it be for good, holy edifying conversation; for it is written, “In much speaking you will not escape sin” (Prov. 10:19), and in another place, “Death and life are in the power of the tongue” (Prov. 18:21).” Taken from the Rule of St. Benedict, chapter 6.

Have you ever been on an elevator with just one other person, and noticed that someone, maybe you, always says something even though both of you are strangers to one another? Have you ever been in an elevator packed so tight that folks can’t move and felt a tension? People were standing so close they tried not to touch, tried to remain aloof, alone, and the silence was so taut that like an over-extended rubber band it felt like the people themselves might snap? Silence, when it’s looms quietly amongst us, seems somehow uncomfortable, at times unbearable. We are, after all, social beings and were created for fellowship one with another and most importantly with God. Maybe this is why silence seems so hard to endure, because it goes against a part of our human nature.

Silence gets a bad rap at times. Think about it. We call someone, or used to call someone, who couldn’t speak “dumb”. Would that imply that the opposite, someone who prattles on continuously, is intelligent if not brilliant? If you’ve ever been trapped between floors on that elevator I mentioned a moment ago with somebody who seemed enamored with their own voice you can answer this question for yourself.

So what of silence? Why cultivate it? Why, at times, prefer silence to speaking a good and useful word? And I think that there are several good reasons. One would be simple self-discipline. We’re all in need of it and it helps us to exercise it in small things, and the tongue is supposedly a small thing (“Even so the tongue is indeed a little member, and boasteth great things. Behold how small a fire kindleth a great wood.” James 3:5.), so its strong enough to be of service when difficulties arise that cry out for self-discipline. Living alone I am not immune. You’d think a person living alone would be forced to silence but no, it doesn’t work like that. Just because no one else is around doesn’t mean I don’t talk to myself. Sometimes? I get tired of being on the elevator with me. I get dirty looks from the cat too.

There’s another good reason I can think of for silence. So long as I’m talking I can’t hear myself think. Now, at times this would have a positive application but not always. When I talk and drown out that still small voice within it may be because I’d rather not hear the truth. Talking? Noise? It can be a good way to escape reality and enter into denial. Denial is not a river in Egypt and a float trip down it almost never takes us any place positive.

Also, when I practice silence I’m better able to hear you. And maybe you have something to say that I need to hear. Or maybe you need to vent. I know I need to be heard at times, but how can I be when the person I’m trapped on the elevator with won’t let me get a word in edgewise? So silence on my part may also lend itself to listening, awareness, on my part. Yours too.

And then there is what I think is the best reason of all for silence. And this is short and sweet. When I’m being quiet? I can better hear God.