Dear Friends in Christ,
A couple of years ago, I went to a monastery for my yearly retreat. Before arriving, the nuns sent me a contract to sign. It was not a contract for how much I would have to pay to be a guest, but rather a contract stating that I would not speak with them or with any other person at the monastery! Perfect silence (with the exception of the necessary instructions upon my arrival) was expected. The monastery provided me with a two-level cabin in the woods. On the ground floor was a nook for eating meals in private, a bed, a small bathroom, and a kitchenette. On the second floor was an oratory with three icons, a wooden kneeler, a desk and chair, and a small table–upon which I offered Mass each day and reserved the Blessed Sacrament. For five days, other than a few deer who would show up to graze near my porch, I had no contact with anyone. I didn’t check email, messages, the news, or voicemails. It was GLORIOUS! Sometimes we find prayer difficult. This was one of those occasions when I felt like I just couldn’t stop praying. Even as I write to you now, I imagine myself up in that simple wooden oratory.
Today, we begin the holy season of Advent. It begins quietly and simply. A single flame is lit. In a world given over to fanfare, noise, distraction, and the bombardment of constant sound, Advent’s quiet beginning could at first glance seem underwhelming. Shouldn’t we do something flashier, something that will really grab everyone’s attention? And yet, it is precisely this quiet, simple, almost imperceptible flicker that draws our attention. It awakens in us a desire for something greater than the world has to offer. It stirs in us a longing for what is not ephemeral, but eternal.
If we are humble before the Liturgy, we can learn from it. The Sacred Liturgy is not in competition with all of the other noise in our life. The Sacred Liturgy stands confidently on its own. It stands in contrast to the noise of the world. The Sacred Liturgy in its noble simplicity invites us to encounter God Himself. God did not come into the world in the big cities, in the palaces of the powerful and famous. He came into the world in the womb of a poor girl from an outskirt town that almost nobody knew about or cared about. He came in silence.
As we light this first candle of Advent, we are reminded that the light is coming into the world. God is doing something. God works in silence. He draws us close to Him in silence. He meets us in silence. And in this silence, we begin to perceive slowly and gradually the presence of Christ. It moves us to be filled with a consoling and strengthening hope. Little by little in Advent, another candle is lit, a little more light fills our life.
As we live this Advent, perhaps a gift that we could give to ourselves and to one another is the gift of silence. Maybe reduce the noise in our life so that we can hear the voice of God speaking to us. Arrive for Mass a bit early and spend time in quiet prayer. When in the church, recall that it is a sacred place and observe reverent silence, affording others the gift of silence so that they too can encounter the Lord in prayer. Stop by church during the day and spend some time with the Lord. Silence can be an oasis for us; a place to drink in the Presence of Christ.
That small candle that begins burning today is for you. It burns as a reminder that God wants to do something in your life. He wants to encounter you personally. He wants to speak to you, personally. That candle is inviting you to draw close to the Lord as he draws close to you. The Word comes to us in silence. I pray that all of us receive the gift of silence this Advent so that the Word can find a ready welcome in our souls.
Your Brother in Christ,
Fr. David Barnes