Usually once a week I take a day of silence. On such a day, as much as work allows, I aim to speak as little as I can. In deliberately being quiet on certain days, I aspire then on other days to fall silent more often than I used to be.
I practice silence to help me discern and say and do what God wills. I enter into silence to help me be attentive to the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
I resort to silence to prevent me from sinning. My Lord and my God, put a curb on my lips, so that I not sin with my tongue.*
Last week, on my silent day, at one point I was in the kitchen when one of our current long-term guests entered the room. She's an eight-year old who lives here at the Catholic Worker House with her mom. She began making regular conversation with me, perhaps about how my day was going, or what food was on the counter, or something else which naturally came to mind. After not too long as I continued to respond without words, she asked me why I was not speaking. In such instances, when I can't respond by nodding or shaking my head, I write my response. Yet in this particular case, almost immediately she began to think about a possible answer to her own query. She asked, "Are you quiet so you can listen better to others?" Frankly, I hadn't been consciously taking silent days as a means to help me to better listen. Nevertheless, when she so inquired, I pondered her question and realized that through regularly falling silent, I can improve at listening to others, which I wish to do. I nodded in reply.
Our neighbor can teach us if we are willing to listen. We can learn even from little children. If we let little children come to us, we can be led by them to the Kingdom of Heaven, for the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as them.** Amen.
* Psalm 39:1; Psalm 141:3
** Matthew 19:14; Mark 10:14; Luke 18:16
I practice silence to help me discern and say and do what God wills. I enter into silence to help me be attentive to the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
I resort to silence to prevent me from sinning. My Lord and my God, put a curb on my lips, so that I not sin with my tongue.*
Last week, on my silent day, at one point I was in the kitchen when one of our current long-term guests entered the room. She's an eight-year old who lives here at the Catholic Worker House with her mom. She began making regular conversation with me, perhaps about how my day was going, or what food was on the counter, or something else which naturally came to mind. After not too long as I continued to respond without words, she asked me why I was not speaking. In such instances, when I can't respond by nodding or shaking my head, I write my response. Yet in this particular case, almost immediately she began to think about a possible answer to her own query. She asked, "Are you quiet so you can listen better to others?" Frankly, I hadn't been consciously taking silent days as a means to help me to better listen. Nevertheless, when she so inquired, I pondered her question and realized that through regularly falling silent, I can improve at listening to others, which I wish to do. I nodded in reply.
Our neighbor can teach us if we are willing to listen. We can learn even from little children. If we let little children come to us, we can be led by them to the Kingdom of Heaven, for the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as them.** Amen.
* Psalm 39:1; Psalm 141:3
** Matthew 19:14; Mark 10:14; Luke 18:16
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