Going Into Silence

When I went to Taizé monastery on Friday, June 14, I planned to do a week of silence after I got accustomed to the rhythm of daily prayers and such. That's how I said it - "do" silence. Like it was something I would have to work at. And I did think it would be difficult. I mean, I'm a girl who talks out loud to herself if no one is around to talk back. Plus, I thought that it would be an intense week of wrestling with God, crying in frustration and desperation about why I believe in Jesus or should encourage anyone else to put their faith in him. I thought I would be struggling for answers about my future, and that maybe there would be some divine inspiration that would strike like lightning and illuminate my future. Consequently, I thought this week of silence would require a big effort.

However, when I talked to the brothers and permanent volunteers at Taizé about doing a week of silence, they referred to it differently. They told each other, "She's going into silence." I had to speak with a sister about it, but when she approved my decision, I moved to a house off of the main campus of the monastery to live with 5 other girls who were participating in the week of silence. As I walked to the house after group prayer Sunday night after I had begun being silent, I considered the strange reference to the week of silence.

Going into silence.

Like it was a place, something that I entered into. Maybe it reminded me of a journey, somewhere I was moving through. In my journal I wrote, "Going into silence. I wonder how I will come out." 

The truth is, the phrase is exactly right. Instead of being something at which I had to work, I simply had to enter a place where I could rest and listen. The sister who was guiding us in the journey through advice and prayer texts said that the goal of silence is not silence itself. We are looking for intimacy with God and ourselves; the silence helps us have more space and attention for what is going on in our hearts. The next day she said that we often consider prayer something that we have to do or make, a result of effort. Sister suggested that prayer is something which is already there since God's life and movement are in our hearts. Prayer, with the aid of silence, is something for us to give time and space to, and to be fully, humanly open in. By looking carefully and being present, we become more aware of God's presence in us. Therefore, we go into silence. We stop listening to some things around us, including our own voices, to listen to things that are quieter than our voices.

I came out of silence a bit reluctantly the next Sunday morning. Already on Saturday I had started pulling out a bit, thinking about regular things and planning ahead. I began to interact in a livelier way with people around me. However, it is peaceful to be silent at times, and the week of silence was also a sort of private adventure that unfolded slowly and beautifully since I did not have to process everything linguistically right away. But when the girls who had been silent for a week or two days broke silence and bread together on Sunday morning, it was a wonderful time of encouragement, joy, and sharing with each other. 

I think I came out of silence changed. It was not the silence so much as the closeness I experienced with God and myself. I remembered things I liked doing that I had forgotten. I allowed myself to dream about "someday" things. Jesus impressed upon me that I am beautiful. He loves me. The love of God became more clear to me than ever before in my life. The way I experienced God's love and presence while I was in silence connected pieces of me that had felt dissonant before. Many of my questions and fears no longer mattered because in Jesus, the answer is yes. 

The time of silence at Taizé will continue to affect me. Though I have come out of it, I still remember that place (not the effort), and the sister assured us that like a good wine, our hearts will remember this good thing we have experienced with God. Considering how I feel that I have come out of the desolate, wild place in my soul to a vibrant, lush garden with streams of water and ripe cherry trees, I know that this week will impact me for months and years to come. The silence allowed me to open myself and prepare my heart for light, and the Light of the World has shone in it.

Yes, "going into silence" is the best way to describe it. May you be able to go on a journey with God yourselves. Well, you already are. May you become aware of God's movements in your life, I think is a better way to say it. The peace of Christ be with you.