Vojtěch Zieba
Lecture I.
Mother Teresa says: "The fruit of silence is prayer. The fruit of prayer is faith. The fruit of faith is love. The fruit of love is service and unity."
1. Silence, stillness – what is it? When I speak these words in connection with prayer, when I say them in the temple, I feel a certain festive charm in these words, a charm that brings peace to the heart, opens it wide to what is great and sacred, and at the same time fills it with a strange power. Silence…
It is not merely the absence of speaking, nor is it about avoiding noise. It is an entire atmosphere that penetrates us to the core of our being. Such silence reigns in the mountains – even when the wind rustles; such silence can dominate us when we gaze upon the vastness of the ocean – even if the waves are raging; such silence can penetrate us when we listen to the perfect beauty of the fugues by J. S. Bach, which someone plays on old organs in a dark Gothic temple – and yet there are so many tones around! This silence at the core of our being can arise from wonder, it can be silence of adoration, contemplation – when we stand before something that infinitely surpasses us, and so we become concerned only with something beyond ourselves.
However, there can also be a silence of awe, fear, horror, which arises in the face of something so great that even a scream is not enough to express it. There may also be a silence of suffering, pain, despair, which a scream cannot express. Therefore, between the cry of wonder, enthusiasm, horror or suffering and silence lies a narrow boundary. Yet this silence pulses with life, is filled with emotions – often more intense than a desperate scream.
2. Here (in our exercises) it is precisely about such silence – full of wonder, but perhaps also of awe – before Divine majesty, before His holiness, omnipotence, love. It is the silence of adoration of His greatness, adoration of His presence, a silence that pulses with the event of encounter. It can also be the silence of suffering, which only God is capable of hearing. I do not want to repeat phrases about concentration, that we should not disturb each other, that we should not get distracted – all this is obvious, known, although not always well understood and accepted. It is not a sporting performance – who can last longer with closed mouths. It is something entirely different – that we learn to savor silence, to rejoice in it, to seek it, for we do not experience as much anywhere as we do at the core of silence. The depth of these experiences cannot be matched, because it is precisely in the silence of wonder, holy awe, and suffering that we can meet the eternal love that longs to encounter us. And our hearts also thirst for this encounter, even if these exalted hearts are so often drowned out by noise, the speed of life, entertainment, and obligations. But here nothing disturbs us – we can dive into silence to meet the Unspeakable, to meet God Himself.
3. God exists in silence and stillness – before the Word was spoken that created heaven and earth, He was. He also comes to us in silence. The Holy Scripture speaks of this figuratively. Once the Lord said to Elijah in a cave: "Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord. And behold, the Lord is passing by. And a great and powerful wind tore the mountains and shattered the rocks – but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind, there was an earthquake – but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake, fire – but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper." As soon as Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak, went out and stood at the entrance to the cave" (1 Kings 19:11–14). How dynamic this image is! How many events within it – great and terrifying! A mighty wind, the noise of torn mountains and shattered rocks, the rumble of an earthquake, the crack of fire. But after all this, a deep silence ensues and only a gentle breeze can be heard – the Lord is coming! Not in the noise, not in the rumble, but in deep silence.
4. A similar image, although expressing another aspect of silence, is shown to us by the New Testament in the description of Jesus calming the storm. The evangelist portrays an equally dynamic scene: the raging wind, the waves that are sinking the boat, the cries and terror of the apostles who wake Jesus, and His contrasting calm – He says just one word, after which "there was a great calm" (Matt 8:26; cf. Mark 4:39; Luke 8:24). The psalmist glorifies God's power, which calms the elements: "When they cried out to the Lord in their trouble, He delivered them from their distress: He stilled the storm, and the waves of the sea were hushed. They were glad when it grew calm, and He guided them to their desired haven" (Ps 107:28–30).
5. And so here we see the connection between silence and prayer – the thanksgiving of a person terrified by the elements that God has calmed. We can also understand these events as a symbol of the entire human life and the condition of the human heart. A person who lives in constant noise, terrified by inner storms, earthquakes, fires burning within, cries out to God to calm the raging powers. And behold, God answers – He comes in silence, in a gentle breeze, cooling the fevered heart and mind, calming the noise of events – peace and silence ensue and from the tormented human heart emerges a thanksgiving for relief, for the peace that has reigned within. Because a person at the core of their heart desires this most, even if they chase their goals, suffer, and toil amid the noise of haste. How beautifully Scripture speaks of quietude in God's presence as a child resting in its mother's arms (cf. Ps 131). For: "It is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord" (Lam 3:26), it is good to wait in silence for His response to our call (cf. 1 Sam 25:9).
6. And thus we touch upon the second aspect of silence and stillness – it is prayer! What a noble prayer, a challenging prayer, from which we gladly flee. And it is in this that the deepest encounter and unity with the Beloved occurs. Let us imagine a loving couple – this image is often offered by Holy Scripture to express the relationship between God and man. Young, loving people do not just talk together. They spend much time together in silence. Is this silence empty? Not at all – it pulses with life and love. It contains so much that it cannot be replaced by anything else, because "there is a time to be silent and a time to speak" (Eccl 3:7). Both are needed: And when they want to confess their love, do they do so in noise? Rather, they seek a quiet, secluded place where no one will disturb them, where the atmosphere is right. This confession will probably not resemble a roaring stream, a raging storm; rather, it could be compared to a gentle breeze, because it will take place amidst silence, which will be broken only by individual words and sighs: I love you, and a similarly short but rich response: me too, or even without words – throwing oneself into an embrace. Is anything more needed? Around them, silence, but their hearts, united by this confession, have never experienced anything greater. There is silence because nothing more can be said – simply, words can no longer express anything more. It is precisely in this type of prayer – the prayer of the heart – that we want to learn in silence and stillness. We can cry out together with the bride from the Song of Songs: "Be still! My beloved! Behold, he comes." Silence! Let us not disturb this wonderful moment. "My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag. Behold, he stands behind our wall, gazing through the windows, looking through the lattice. My beloved spoke and said to me: Rise up, my friend, my beautiful one, and come" (Song 2:9–10). And thus, it remains to leap into His arms in silence.
7. Such an encounter with God in love, unity with Him, being captivated by His presence, stillness before Him – is already contemplation. This word somewhat repels us; we are afraid of it, thinking it belongs to strict monasteries, yet contemplation is the most sublime song of our hearts, which professes love to God and listens to His response. St. Teresita de Lisieux (after whom Mother Teresa took her name and often refers to) said: "To pray does not mean to speak a lot, but to love a lot." Perhaps that is why Jesus said that many words in prayer are unnecessary (cf. Matt 6:7). Therefore, He recommended: "Go into your room and close the door behind you" (Matt 6:6), for in the center of silence and stillness is God, and the encounter with Him gives birth to prayer. To this, the prophet also calls us: "Be silent before the Lord God, for the day of the Lord is near! The Lord has prepared a sacrifice; He has consecrated those He invited" (Zeph 1:7). Let our loving hearts be the offering, which we bring to Him as a gift at the feast of joy to which He has invited us. Let us prepare this gift in silence and stillness, in the greatest concentration to make it worthy of the Divine Bridegroom.
8. However, there can also exist – as I have already mentioned – a silence of suffering. Each of us knows this all too well. Silence conceals many of our worries and pains. But even here, in the midst of our suffering cloaked in silence, we can meet God who accompanies us, hears the longing of our hearts, and understands it, for He Himself suffered on the cross. Only to Him, who has suffered so much, can we open our hearts in trust, for He is capable of having compassion for us, for He was tested like us in everything but sin (cf. Heb 4:15). And again – in the middle of this silent suffering, which we cannot share with anyone but Him, the prayer is born – a prayer of trust and surrender, a dialogue of living, pulsating hearts.
9. There can also be silence and stillness of penance. We know well the austere simplicity of the liturgy of Holy Week, when the organs and bells fall silent, when we fast, which can only be fully experienced in silence (cf. Isa 58:4). Silence and stillness envelops the sacred awe over the suffering of the Savior for our sins. In silence, we await the coming of the God of love, to forgive us our sins and again lovingly embrace us. In silence, we look at Christ's tomb, we contemplate His descent into the abyss of death, over which He finally triumphed in the silence of Easter morning. Silence envelops these days of waiting for the joyful bells that announce the resurrection. Is not this silence of penance, the silence of expectation for forgiveness and the joy of resurrection, a wonderful prayer? No words are needed, a tear of contrition and repentance for what our sin has contributed is enough to express more than the longest statement. It is good to be silent before the Lord, for in this silence is a fullness that no other type of prayer has.
10. The example of preserving silence and stillness for us can be Jesus Himself. He said: "Learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls" (Matt 11:29). Let us look at His attitude and learn how to thoroughly experience exercises and our entire life. Behold, the silence of His birth. He came into the world in the Bethlehem manger, without fanfare and celebrations. The silence of His life in Nazareth. The silence accompanying His forty-day fast, during which He was preparing for His public ministry. The silence of solitary nightly prayer – He often withdrew from the noisy crowd to meet in silence with His Father, drawing strength for further actions from that meeting. The silence of the night spent in Gethsemane was especially dramatic as He prepared for death on the cross. Then came the silence before the Sanhedrin and before Pilate's court. Finally, the silence of His lonely death on the cross. "He was oppressed and afflicted; yet He did not open His mouth; He was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so He did not open His mouth" (Isa 53:7). He did not argue, nor did He shout; on the streets, no one heard His voice. He came to us like a gentle breeze that does not break a bruised reed and does not snuff out a smoldering wick (cf. Matt 12:19–20). What does He want to teach us? He experienced it all to the end, and therefore His encouragement is so convincing.
11. Jesus urged us to remain in silence, and He blessed silence: "Blessed are the peacemakers" (Matt 5:5–9). Blessed are those who can turn off the radio or television, who can withdraw from the noisy crowd, who want to seek God in silence and stillness. Blessed are those who allow this to others or at least are not an obstacle when others desire it. Blessed are those who do not shout and do not argue. Each of us can partake in this Jesus' beatitude, if only we want to take His invitation to learn from Him seriously, for He is gentle and lowly.
12. The virtue of silence is often mentioned in Paul's epistles. He praises a quiet and peaceful life and urges Christians to lead such lives (cf. 1 Tim 2:2). He exhorts the unruly "to be quiet and gentle in the manner of Christ" (1 Cor 10:1), urging us to always be modest, quiet, and patient, bearing with one another in love (cf. Eph 4:2; Col 3:12–13). Silence is according to him an ornament for Christian women (1 Tim 2:11–12). The Old Testament also greatly valued silence and stillness as a manifestation of wisdom (Sir 20:1.5; 32:8) and patience in waiting for the right time (Sir 20:6–7; Wis 8:12). This right time may prove to be a moment of grace and the coming of the Lord, who comes in silence as a gentle breeze. Therefore, let us wait diligently, not losing the opportunity, demonstrating wisdom and patience. Here we have this time, a time of grace, but also a time of struggle. Many have already triumphed in this struggle – we too can achieve victory! Here is the time that has been granted to us, the time of salvation, which is being realized. May the words of the prophet be an encouragement for us: "This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel says: In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength. The Lord longs to be gracious to you; therefore, He will rise up to show you compassion. Blessed are those who wait for Him" (Isa 30:15.18).
13. In conclusion, let us still our hearts and listen to the words of Mother Teresa, who speaks of silence and prayer: "God loves silence. We need to seek God, but we will not find Him in the noise and confusion. Look at how trees, flowers, grass – all nature grows in deep silence; in what silence the stars, the moon, and the sun move. The more we receive in our silent prayer, the more we can give to others in our active life. Silence allows us to look at everything from a different perspective. We need this silence to touch souls. The most important thing is not what we say, but what God says to us and through us.
