Today the reading from the handbook was concerned with the
issues of silence and speech. In order to complement the insights found in that
reading, let’s spend a few moments reflecting on silence and speech in our
lives as Christians, and especially in the service of God.
We live in a culture that often confuses silence with
reverence. In times of national tragedy, for example, any secular Western
nation is going to instruct its people to observe “a moment of silence.” There
is nothing that is more solemn to the culture than the moment of silence,
probably because silence simulates the finality of death, and death in this
culture is still surrounded by a certain solemnity. It is worth noting that
this very solemnity will eventually pass away, and is passing away, as the “death
with dignity” (whatever that is) continues its triumphal march, as more and
more Western nations accept the existence of programs like Canada’s MAID (the
acronym for Medical Assistance In Dying).
No, silence is not reverence. In fact, in many ways, silence
is terrible in the original meaning of the word, “full of terror.” The first
generations of Christian monks who departed to the desert knew this. The desert
was silent, devoid of life, because it was the haunt of the demons. These
fervent Christians went out into the desert to do single combat with those enemies
of God, following the example of their Master, Who had gone out to the desert
to engage in similar combat. We need only read the apothegms from those first
generations to know how truly terrible the demonic manifestations were in that
silence. Was the desert also a place of great concentration for prayer?
Certainly, but only eventually, once the monks had succeeded in evicting the
desert’s native spiritual inhabitants.
Why is silence, in one aspect, so terrible, so demonic?
Because it symbolizes the destruction of existing things. It is result when
everything has been successfully laid waste. Connected to this idea is the well-known
story about Karl Marx related for posterity by his maid. Marx suffered at
various times from terrible headaches. During these attacks, he would seal
himself in his room, tie a belt tightly around his head and repeat like a
mantra a line from Goethe’s Faust. In that line, the demon
Mephistopheles says, “Everything that exists deserves to perish.”
Throughout human history and probably under demonic
influence, the most severe punishment that could be inflicted on enemies was
silence. Certain cultures raised the practice of damnatio memoriae to an
art. In ancient Egypt, for example, a ruler would frequently damn the memory of
his predecessor to the oblivion of silence. The name of that person would be
removed from monuments, his grave destroyed and his very remains crushed to
powder and scattered by the wind, so that he could not be remembered by any future
generation.
Then too, we have the example of a Persian girl, Golinduc,
the niece of the Sassanian Emperor Shapur II. She fell in love with the Lord
Jesus and decided to become a Christian, taking the name Maria in baptism. Her
enraged uncle sentenced her to the most severe punishment practiced in the
Persian Empire. She was thrown headfirst into the Oblivion, a pit, in fact an
old, empty cistern, filled with snakes and rats. It was called the Oblivion,
because those who were thrown in were completely forgotten in that place of
terrible silence. None ever returned. Golinduc entered into that silence and
filled it with prayer. It was eventually due to the faint sound of the chanting
of psalms that her extraordinary continued life in the Oblivion became known. Strengthened
by grace, Golinduc survived thirteen years in the Oblivion and was drawn up out
of it after the Emperor’s death.
Silence is not an ideal. It is rather the wilderness into
which God sends us with the command to fill and subdue. We should always rebuke
ourselves if we find ourselves yearning for silence. We are, in that case, of
the same spirit with Marx, desiring the destruction of existent things, just
like James and John in the well-known Gospel story. The Lord Jesus had to
rebuke them. “You do not know of what spirit you are.” No, rather, we yearn for
the presence of God, the only Source of true peace. The presence of God is full
of praise and thanksgiving. Indeed, our interior life amounts to entering the
Oblivion of our hearts and filling that emptiness with praise. To God be glory
in the Church through all the ages of ages! Amen.
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