SOME VARIETIES OF SILENCE
Not all silence is the same. There is the awkward silence of the road trip with someone we do not know quite well enough to be silent next to, the refrigerating silence of hardened anger, the reverential silence of dogwoods in winter, the vast silence of a cathedral, the focused silence of absorption in our sewing or a good book, the stunned silence of seeing the status of our pension fund. Each features physical silence, the absence of sound waves, but this silence is merely the outer form of other dynamics. In the spiritual life silence is characterized by a powerfully searching and subtle dynamic. If we know how to dwell in physical silence, then silence becomes not a threat but attractive, nurturing, and liberating.
The powerful attraction of something as utterly simple as silence is well attested throughout the contemplative tradition. The following is a good example of how silence is not simply concerned with a buttoned lip or a cold shoulder. The fourteenth-century Augustinian friar and spiritual writer Jordan of Saxony not only shaped the spirituality of his own religious community but also stood on the shoulders of countless saints and sages who have witnessed to what silence does other than make no noise. He presumes that any community that seeks God together is going to have places where “silence should be observed. From this silence peace of mind is born, advance in studies is promoted, devout contemplation takes its beginnings; furthermore, according to the words of the prophet: ‘the cultivation of justice is silence’ (Is 32:17); through silence a brother begins to cultivate and practice justice, by which virtue he is formed so as to live his own life honestly, not to harm others, and to give each one his due. Such formation as this carries anyone so formed on to the state of perfection. On the other hand, from the breakdown of silence disturbances of mind arise … quarrels are born, strife.”
Notice all the things silence does other than be quiet. Silence is real enough to be afraid of. But when integrated into an environment and a way of living, it calms and gradually integrates us into it. Jordan of Saxony sees the generative power of silence; its children are “peace of mind” and “the cultivation of justice.” This peace is not the opposite of turmoil but the ground of both turmoil and tranquility. Moreover, silence is formative and developmental; it leads us to “perfection,” that is to say, it draws us to completion or wholeness. The breakdown of silence (environmental, generative, or developmental) has dire consequences: an increase in anxiety and quarrels, which fuels the sense of alienation from ourselves, from God, and from those with whom we live. Like many spiritual masters before and after him, Jordan of Saxony knows the cost of the loss of silence in one’s living environment and in one’s prayer life. The twentieth- century Swiss psychoanalyst C. G. Jung apparently knew this, and today medicine has discovered the practice of contemplation to be an effective destressor, with direct bearing on weight control, blood pressure, and much more.
There is a story told of how Jung used silence to help one of his patients become aware of the cause of his problems. Complaining of a general anxiety, but unable to identify what he was anxious about, the client did not give Jung much to work with. Jung suggested he go home and spend the evenings alone and see what came up before their next appointment the following week. The man returned and told Jung that he had enjoyed the evenings alone at home; he had read a novel he had been meaning to read for months and listened to symphonies he had not enjoyed for years. Jung said, “Ah! I didn’t mean go home and read or listen to music just now. I meant go home during the evenings and just be silent.” And so the man went home and did just that. When he returned the following week he had plenty that he could begin to talk about. The silence had begun to draw out some of the problems that underlay this man’s anxiety so that he could now begin to address them. Silence is sometimes like a poultice placed over a sore to draw out infection as part of the healing process.
~Martin Laird, A Sunlit Absence: Silence, Awareness, and Contemplation
