If silence is “weird,” why do we want to engage in it at all, much less make time for it as a spiritual practice?
Because if you let silence in, doing so will change your life.
Silence is simply pulling the plug on the noise. It is intimately linked to the practice of solitude. If we are to get away from the noise, we need to be alone. When we practice solitude and silence, we turn off the television, the radio. We get away from the kids, the office, even our ministry: all places where people have access to us and the ability to assault us with their needs and demands. In silence and solitude, we find freedom. God invites us to stop, to rest, to be quiet for a while and just listen to the voice of love.
Silence also requires that we let go of our own agenda. It is approaching God empty-handed, without a wish list, prayer, or even a Bible-study booklet. It is being with God for the purpose of simply focusing our attention. And that’s where listening comes in.
Solitude and silence are traditional spiritual practices that, on their surface, are simply about withdrawing from people and noise in order to be alone with God. Many people meditate simply by being quiet and thinking of nothing, or simply focusing on a word such as peace. Others meditate on God as he reveals himself in nature. Spending time in silent meditation can be a helpful practice. But what happens when we enter into solitude and silence for the purpose of listening?
Engaging in spiritual disciplines will not force God to show up and give us a “deep” experience. As I teach and lead retreats, I sometimes talk to people who are sad and frustrated with their attempts to practice solitude and silence. “I tried it,” they say. “But nothing happened.” As I listen to them, I become aware that they may have been silent, they may have been alone, but they are not sure why they were doing it. They did not really listen in the silence, perhaps because they did not realize that the listening is what makes solitude and silence transformational.
Richard Foster writes, “Without silence there is no solitude. Though silence sometimes involves the absence of speech, it always involves the act of listening. Simply to refrain from talking, without an ear listening to God, is not silence.”
In the Christian tradition, solitude and silence were foundational practices. Jesus himself modeled these practices, and his followers have been using them as tools for creating space to listen to God ever since. In post-modern America, where silence is “weird,” it’s a bit harder to engage in this practice. But we need it more than ever because our world is so noisy and hurried.
Luke’s gospel documents several instances of Jesus spending time in solitude, beginning with his extended time of solitude, fasting, and temptation in the desert for 40 days (Luke 4:1–13).
Within the next three chapters, Luke notes three other instances of Jesus practicing solitude, sometimes for a short time, sometimes for a night: “At daybreak Jesus went out to a solitary place” (Luke 4:42); “But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed” (Luke 5:16); “One of those days Jesus went out into the hills to pray, and spent the night praying to God” (Luke 6:12).
Clearly, solitude was a regular practice, and usually it was a way for Jesus to pray and to listen to God—to pull away from and stop listening to the voices of others.
It was also a place for him to listen to God when he might be tempted to listen to the voices of others. After the miraculous feeding of the five thousand, Jesus “dismissed the crowd. After he had dismissed them, he went up into the hills by himself to pray” (Matthew 14:23). He could have kept the crowd around and listened to their admiration. But he chose to be alone, to listen to God instead.
Within the boundaries of solitude, we may simply be silent, still, waiting. Or we may read God’s word, pray, meditate, engage in self-examination or confession. What we do depends on what God calls us to. Even our decision about how to spend our time alone, then, begins with listening. We must remember that our desire or interest in solitude comes from a longing that God places in our hearts, whether we are aware of his authorship or not. When we move into solitude and silence, we have listened to that inner voice, and if we are wise, we will continue to make listening an essential part of our practice.
Through the practices of solitude and silence, we become better listeners. We become people who are willing to be quiet when those we minister to need to talk. We cultivate a heart that listens, and that will transform not only our own souls, but the souls of those we minister to.
Adapted from Listen: Finding God in the Story of Your Life by Keri Wyatt Kent. Copyright 2006. Reprinted with permission from Jossey-Bass, a Wiley Imprint. For more about Keri Wyatt Kent’s ministry, visit www.keriwyattkent.com.
Copyright © 2006 Promiseland.
