Commit to Silence in the Final Days of Advent

Earlier this week, my teenage daughter and I attempted to finish Christmas shopping as quickly as possible. I do not particularly enjoy shopping. I find the experience to be a mix between sensory overload and annoyance at the completely unnecessary amount of things that are mass produced for consumption in this country. Perhaps it is simply the fact that I am cranky in my early forties, or it is my growing discontent with the lies of materialism and consumerism that we have been fed our whole lives.

This all came to the forefront when my daughter and I stopped at a church to spend an hour before the Tabernacle with Our Lord’s Real Presence. As we entered that sacred space, my head was swirling with images from the stores I had been in and the online stores I’d browsed. My mind played Christmas music in an endless loop with ever-increasing volume the longer I sat in the darkened church.

My soul, mind, and heart could not find any rest. The frenetic activity of the previous few hours had had a much deeper impact on me than I realized. It was only by coming into the total silence of Our Lord’s Real Presence that the state of my soul could be seen. This is the whole point of distraction and a consumeristic society. We are to stay distracted 24/7.

To anyone who is paying attention and who sees deeper into the spiritual state of things, it is obvious that the enemy of our souls is doing everything in his power to keep us from silence. What started off as something to help us in practical ways, e.g. smartphones, television, and the Internet, has taken over our lives. In a culture of abundance, we are constantly told that happiness is buying whatever we want. Try shopping for a few hours and then sitting with Jesus in the Tabernacle. It is illuminating to see what excess does to our souls. Cardinal Sarah wrote in his wonderful book, The Power of Silence:

Noise is a deceptive, addictive, and false tranquilizer. The tragedy of our world is never better summed up than in the fury of senseless noise that stubbornly hates silence. This age detests the things that silence brings us to: encounter, wonder, and kneeling before God.

Advent is meant to be a time of silence, waiting, patience, and expectancy. In a culture that has inverted the liturgical calendar, it is almost impossible to live Advent fully. Even Catholics don’t realize the Christmas season does not start until Christmas Eve Masses. Most do not know that Christmas Day lasts 8 days (an octave). Or that the Christmas season lasts until the Baptism of the Lord, and for some, until the Presentation of the Lord. We have been completely subsumed into the prevailing culture and lost our Catholic identity.

This season of waiting in silent expectation through prayer is essential for being spiritually prepared to fully live the joy of Christmas. The answer to being overwhelmed and exhausted from sensory overload is the one Advent offers to us. It is to choose silence. This is how we rightly order our souls for Christmas. We must seek silence with our whole hearts. It is in silence that we encounter the Living God.

It took at least 30 minutes for my mind, heart, soul, and body to rest in the silence of the Lord’s Presence as my daughter and I sat near the Tabernacle. To be honest, it was misery. I could not quiet down interiorly at all. The Christmas songs playing in my head got louder and louder. Wrapping paper, cards, gifts, ridiculous trimmings, and my own discontent with the materialism of our age swirled in my mind every time I tried to close my eyes to recollect for mental prayer.

The longer I stayed, however, the more things began to slow down. I had committed to that hour for a particular prayer intention, and it was that commitment that kept me there despite the constant temptations to pack it in and leave. By the time my daughter asked if we could do Lectio Divina together, the swirling and whirling within me had stopped. I could finally hear the Lord speak to my soul as we prayed with sections of Psalm 25 from the daily Mass readings.

To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul,
my God, in you I trust;
do not let me be disgraced;
do not let my enemies gloat over me.
No one is disgraced who waits for you,
but only those who are treacherous without cause.
Make known to me your ways, LORD;
teach me your paths.
Guide me by your fidelity and teach me,
for you are God my savior,
for you I wait all the day long.
Remember your compassion and your mercy, O LORD,
for they are ages old.
Remember no more the sins of my youth;
remember me according to your mercy,
because of your goodness, LORD.
(Psalm 25:1-7)

“Teach me your paths.” That is what spoke to my heart during Lectio. The Lord’s paths are not found in the busyness of stores, news, and constant technology. The blue glow of screens that we battle to tame in the darkness of this time of year is a counterfeit of the Tabernacle candle that burns brightly beside the Lord who waits for us.

My daughter and I discovered what Cardinal Sarah wrote on Sacred Scripture and Christ’s Sacred Heart:

Nestling in silence against the heart of God, with the open Bible over our head like the wings of the Holy Spirit, is still the best antidote, the one thing necessary to chase away from our interior territory all that is useless, superfluous, worldly, and even our own self.

By turning to His Word, the sensory overload and to-do list faded into the distance. We were able to hear the Lord speaking to our hearts in a real way. It is only through silence that we can hear His voice. The prophet Elijah encountered the Lord on Mount Horeb only in a “light silent sound”:

Then the LORD said: Go out and stand on the mountain before the LORD; the LORD will pass by. There was a strong and violent wind rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the LORD—but the LORD was not in the wind; after the wind, an earthquake—but the LORD was not in the earthquake; after the earthquake, fire—but the LORD was not in the fire; after the fire, a light silent sound. When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. (1 Kings 19:11-13)

We are not going to find the Lord in the constant consumption of our culture. We are not going to find the Lord in political power and might. We are not going to find the Lord in riches and comfort. We are not going to find Him on social media. We will not find Him in the powerful elements of this earth. We will not find Him sending rockets to Mars. While Creation gives us beautiful glimpses of God that can lead us to deeper prayer, they are not God. The Lord is found in silence.

The starting place for reclaiming the Advent and Christmas seasons is silence. We must seek out the “still small voice” of God. We must willingly endure the battle to enter silence without giving up. It is a great temptation to give up because of how long it takes those of us who do not live in constant recollection to slow down. We must allow the Holy Spirit to soothe our overwhelmed souls. We must allow Him to prune away the worthless distractions and worries. We must truly desire union with the Lord that goes deeper than checking Sunday Mass off our to-do list or treating Christmas Eve/Day Mass as one more thing to fit in.

It is not too late to slow down and enter into silence in preparation for Christmas. Now is the time to shut the door to our room and commit to silence. If we have time to shop, then we have time to spend a few minutes in silence before the Tabernacle or at Adoration. If we have time for Netflix or Facebook, then we have time to open the Bible to pray with God’s Word in silence.

The Lord rewards our efforts. He ultimately leads us to grow in prayer through silence. He will prepare our hearts to receive Him at Christmas if we commit to silence for the next few days. As one of my spiritual formators always says: “We just have to show up.”

Photo by Bennett Jefferson on Unsplash