Daily Meditations

Stillness and Silence: Wonder, Gratitude and Generosity Flow from the Well of Stillness

One day Abba Arsenius consulted an old Egyptian monk about his own thoughts. Someone noticed this and said to him, “Abba Arsenius, how is it that you, with such a good Latin and Greek education, ask this peasant about your thoughts?” He replied, “I have indeed been taught Latin and Greek, but I do not know even the alphabet of this peasant.”21

Stillness opens the heart of the monk to a sense of wonder. When the monk is free from attachment, he or she is able to see the world apart from self-interest and self-importance. There is a willingness to look for God’s presence everywhere, even in unexpected places and people. The vulnerability of stillness becomes an environment for incarnation. The monk’s soul and body are filled with experience of God. “Abba Daniel used to tell how when Abba Arsenius learned that all the varieties of fruit were ripe he would say, ‘Bring me some.’ He would taste a very little of each, just once, giving thanks to God.”22 Wonder creates a mutual seeing in which the monk acknowledges the world as a gift. Because the monk’s world has expanded beyond his own accomplishments his heart is filled with gratitude, even for a small taste of life’s fruits. It was Arsenius’s grateful heart that united him with both the gift and the Giver. This spiritual union becomes a person’s wellspring of self-offering and charity.

”Abba Agathon said, ‘I have never offered agapes (love feasts, a sharing of food, in the context of a Eucharist); but the fact of giving and receiving has been for me an agape, for I consider the good of my brother to be a sacrificial offering.”’23 A person’s availability to the Spirit in stillness becomes a spring of generosity. This transforms our actions and use of material things into acts of communion with God. This holy communion also connects us with the world in a new way, as authentic human beings. Our hearts are turned toward the life of the world because our interior prayer is united with our exterior actions. This purity (authenticity) of heart is the goal of all monastic praxis. Monastic life, when it is not abused or romanticized, manifests authentic human life. Its wisdom should not be limited to monastic communities.

“Amma Syncletica also said, ‘It is written, “Be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” (Matt 10: 16). Being like serpents means not ignoring attacks and wiles of the devil. Like is quickly known to like. The simplicity of the dove denotes purity of action.”’24 By withdrawing in stillness/prayer the monk releases herself to God and God responds by embracing her with her true self, in time/space. This is God’s refinement of the whole person in God, the true Good, the One Who Is. The monk responds by manifesting this image of God in a Eucharistic offering of self in every relationship and activity of daily life. ”Abba Antony said, ‘Our life and our death is with our neighbor. If we gain our brother, we have gained God, but if we scandalize our brother, we have sinned against Christ.”’25

Making spaces for stillness in our lives is neither selfish nor self-serving. It helps us retreat from our usual responsibilities and patterns of activity in order to become better listeners. Today we are bombarded by the one-way and aggressive communication of the media and are losing our ability to listen. Conversation is threatened by increased polarity. Stillness guards our souls from over-activity and over-stimulation of mind and body that scatter our openness to God and our neighbor. Stillness helps our actions keep pace with our hearts, even in a few moments of a busy day. Rather than escaping from life, stillness reacquaints us with life and the Giver of life. Being in a place apart reminds us of the sacredness of life. Stillness is a fresh spring quenching our inner thirst for love of others, even our enemies.

~David G.R. Keller, Oasis of Wisdom: The Worlds of the Desert Fathers and Mothers

21 Ibid., Arsenius 6, 10.

22 Ibid., Arsenius 19, 11.

23 Ibid., Agathon 17, 23.

24 Ibid., Syncletica 18, 234.

25 Ibid., Antony 9, 3.