Occasions of Graced Silence

Almost every week several sisters and I gather on Thursday night to read poems to each other. The poems we choose range from the traditional (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Robert Frost) to the contemporary (Mary Oliver, Billy Collins) and from the spiritual (Mary Faith Schuster, Kilian McDonnell) to the silly (Ogden Nash, Brian Bilston). Our love of words and respect for the poets’ craft draws us together, and occasionally a particularly beautiful or insightful poem leaves us sitting in awed silence. As the writer Collette said, “To a poet, silence is an acceptable response, even a flattering one.”

I wonder if God too finds silence an acceptable and even flattering response after we hear God’s Word. We are adept at praising God, but perhaps God is more pleased by our silence as we take what we hear into our hearts. After all, that is what Jesus did when he withdrew into the desert after hearing God say at his baptism, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”

We are given many opportunities to encounter God’s word in creation and in each other, if we choose to notice them. A vivid sunset, the loveliness of a singer’s voice, the resilience of people who have experienced great suffering, and celebration of the Eucharist have the power to reduce us to grateful and awed silence. At such times, silence is the best reflection of our reverence — not our comments, not our desire to capture the moment on our cell phones.

We need to be intentional about creating the space to experience God’s word in a way that speaks to our heart. That may happen through a poetry group, by attending the symphony, or by creating a garden. We’ll know we’ve found the right avenue when we feel called to respond with a graced silence.