Stillness in Meeting Christ in the Eucharist

More than one philosopher has observed that since men have two ears but only one mouth, we ought to listen twice as much as we speak. And while the Blessed Trinity may not have ears and a mouth as you and I do, Christianity is a relationship “with a God who speaks and listens” (Pope Benedict XVI, Verbum Domini, 24). But preliminary to any speaking and listening that happens—be it from us to God or God to us—is silence.

Any fruitful (or at least accurate) conversation must take place in relative silence. We can all attest to the frustration of talking to another person while a television is blaring, smartphones are scrolling, or a room is filled with a deluge of other voices: what results is more confusion than conversation. True conversation needs a canvas of silence from which to work. (Even a screen such as this one needs to be blank so that words can appear clearly.) Silence is the necessary precondition by which we can successfully relate to another person—and especially if that other person is God.

Silence, Creation—and the Sounds of Death

When the Father first said, “Let there be light,” he did so out of the silence, the void, the abyss. Silence sets the stage for all of creation, light, and life. Made by the resounding Word of the Father, every creature consequently is “a word of God, since it proclaims God” (St. Bonaventure, quoted in Verbum Domini, 8). But like the silence surrounding God’s cosmic creation, all creatures, rational and non-rational alike, speak in harmony and concord from the silent depths of their hearts—in moos, tweets, chirps, and words—back to the God who first spoke them into being.

Cardinal Robert Sarah, who wrote a 250-page book on silence (!), The Power of Silence: Against the Dictatorship of Noise, says that “God is silence, and the devil is noisy. From the beginning, Satan has sought to mask his lies beneath a deceptive, resonant agitation” (Cardinal Sarah, Catholic World Report, October 2, 2016). Man was meant to dialogue with the God who speaks and listens, but tempted by the Father of Lies has decided not to listen (literally, he is “disobedient”), nor to speak the truth. Harmony has turned to cacophony, consonance to dissonance—and silence to “resonant agitation.”

But man—who was originally called forth from this holy silence into a being made in God’s image and likeness—has become a chatty monster. On a visit to Carthusian monks—a significant part of whose life is spent in silence—Pope Benedict XVI once remarked that all of the noise of modern life has given “rise to talk about anthropological mutation. Some people are no longer able to remain for long periods in silence and solitude” (October 9, 2011). Surely, each of us today has encountered a kind of “spiritual tinnitus,” that tinny ringing of the world that besets our hearts and suffocates our attempts to hear the Word of the Father.

The Silent Word

But God will not be deterred. From the seeming silence of an Egyptian Passover night to a quiet night outside the little town of Bethlehem, God continues to act and speak out of silence. The prophet Elijah had a most memorable mountaintop encounter with the silent God. Here, “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” (1 Kings 19:11-12).

Christ’s own life was marked by silence. We’ve already seen how his heavenly Father spoke from the silence, and his earthly foster-father, St. Joseph, likewise spoke loudly from a silent life. Jesus was born during a silent night and went on to lead a quiet life in Nazareth. He began the most earth-shaking career in history with 40 days of solitude in the desert. During his passion, he—who is the Word—remained mostly silent in the face of interrogation by Annas, Caiaphas, Herod, Pilate, scoffers, and the bad thief. Then, after he breathed his last, he fell silent again—as silent as the grave.

But in the still hours of the night, he rose. Nobody saw it; nobody heard it—only that noiseless night would “know the time and hour when Christ rose from the underworld” (Easter Exsultet). And not unlike the silence out of which the first creation dawned, this new silence would spark and speak a new creation: let there be a new light! “Silence is essential in the life of the believer,” Pope Francis says. “Indeed, it lies at the beginning and end of Christ’s earthly existence. The Word, the Word of the Father, became ‘silence’ in the manger and on the cross, on the night of the Nativity and on the night of his Passion” (September 30, 2023).

Silence for a Eucharistic Encounter

If God appreciates silence, and if Christ surrounded his saving work with silence, then we too should expect to encounter him in the silence—especially in a Eucharistic encounter. Silence, in fact, is an essential part of the Mass. Not only did the preconciliar liturgy incorporate many moments of silence, but the postconciliar liturgy likewise prescribes periods of silence: “To promote active participation,” the Second Vatican Council’s Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy writes, “all should observe a reverent silence” at the proper times (n. 30). What are these proper times?

The General Instruction of the Roman Missal calls for silence often in the celebration of the Mass:

• “Even before the celebration itself, it is a praiseworthy practice for silence to be observed in the church, in the sacristy, in the vesting room, and in adjacent areas, so that all may dispose themselves to carry out the sacred celebration in a devout and fitting manner” (n. 45).
• The Penitential Act calls for “a brief pause for silence” (n. 51).
• After the priest “calls upon the people to pray” at the Opening Prayer, everybody “observes a brief silence so that they may become aware of being in God’s presence and may call to mind their intentions” (n.54).
• During the Liturgy of the Word, silence is to be observed “before the Liturgy of the Word itself begins, after the First and Second Reading, and lastly at the conclusion of the Homily” (n. 56).
• “The Eucharistic Prayer requires that everybody listens to it with reverence and in silence” (n. 78).
• After communion, “sacred silence may now be observed for some time” (n. 164).

Do you recognize these moments of silence when you go to Mass? “The Liturgy,” writes Pope John Paul II, “with its different moments and symbols, cannot ignore silence” (Spiritus et Sponsa, 13).

The Soundness of Silence

Had enough of noise, of chaos, of sin? See if silence might help at, say, Eucharistic adoration. Pope Francis encourages this very thing: “We cannot know the Lord without this habit of worship, to worship in silence, adoration. Allow me to say this: waste time in front of the Lord, in front of the mystery of Jesus Christ. Worship him. There in silence, the silence of adoration” (October 20, 2016). Few would argue that today’s world has too little noise and too much silence. God gives us a foretaste of heaven on earth in the goodness we experience in the world and in others, in the quiet moments of personal prayer, and in the Eucharist celebrated and adored. Silence is the “symbol of the world to come” (CCC, 2717). Be intentional about seeking silence, and there you will encounter God in his heavens.