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I hold myself
in quiet and silence .
(Sal 131,2)
Love silence,
if you love the truth,
This will make you shine in God like the sun,
It will free you from dissipation.
Silence unifies your heart, making it one with God
(Isacco di
Ninive, First collection 65)
Today we are invaded by
words, noise and chats to the point that sound pollution can be numbered
among the ecologic problems. Moreover, in the cacophonic society we live
in, the word has become an almost compulsory instrument for
self-affirmation and celebration, even at the cost of assuming
aggressive forms, capable of wounding persons: “words like arms”, it has
been rightly said… Therefore, we understand why many persons feel the
need of silence, namely many would like to learn how to be silent,
in order to re-discover the beauty of silence and, at the same time, the
beauty of forms of non-verbal communication. To be silent means fasting
verbally; silence can be compared to physical fast, both of them being
healthywhen the body and psyche, namely the whole human person, demand
it.
However, we must ask
ourselves frankly: what is silence? The first difficulty, in fact,
is that of speaking about it, since silence is understood only when
we experience it in solitude; moreover, it is elementary, but essential
to remember that the reality of silence is not equal for all and
can change in the same person during the different phases of life
Moreover, when we fathom
the depths of silence, we discover that silence is not primarily a
spiritual experience; rather it could be even an impediment to it.
Silence is a human experience and, in the course of life, every person
actually knows different silences, which in some cases can be
assumed as positive and necessary, in other cases they are repelled as
negative and deadly. Therefore, silence is not a good in itself or an
absolute good; it can find justification and sense only on certain
conditions, only when it is lived with awareness and is oriented to an
end, a goal.
Silence or mutism?
An attentive sight does
not miss the fact that the positive valences of silence can be
fully understood only if we have the courage of looking, first of all,
at its negative side. Silence is a constitutively ambiguous
reality and, therefore, it can be without life, can assume the form of
mutism, which impedes and refuses communication. The rejection of
communication humiliates the word and silence as well, finishing by
shutting up the person into a kind of prison. This pathology does not
manifest itself by chance when the psychic balance is seriously wounded;
those who have been able to meet the abyss of mutism in persons hit by
folly, know what it means this form of saying “no” to communication: it
is a refusal of life!
There is also a bad,
malign
silence nurtured by anger and hatred. Elias Canetti has rightly written
about it that, “some persons reach their utmost wickedness in their
silence”; they make negative judgements, they despise others, they have
the nurtured and daily nursed will of not having any person before them
or at their side, because its diversity annoys them and they turn the
other into an enemy: nobody greets him or address any word to him,
treating him just as if he were already dead! They do not need to reach
a manifested hostility, because this mute and deaf hostility is more
perverse. Isn’t this the reality that sometimes inhabits the daily life
of our families and our communities?
Another form of negative
silence is that of self-illusion: a silence kept to preserve the self
image derived from confrontation with reality and with others. This is
then translated into autistic forms of life, whose most efficacious
figuration is that of a desert crowded with phantasms which finish by
dominating the unlucky person obsessively. Truly, silence may become a
cause of desperation, a form of anguish: this silence is sometimes
imposed by the torturer to his victim, or sometimes it is freely chosen
by those who set on deadly journeys.
We need to admit with
realism that these forms of silence are not stranger to us: it is
important to be aware of them and, at the same time, be ready to
transform them into the vital silence from which life and senseful words
derive.
Silence
as form of communication
The persons, who start
this fight, slowly learn to discern that positive, inalienable
silences also exist. First of all a silence respectful of the word
of others, as well as a silence chosen in the awareness that “There is a
time for keeping silent and a time to speak”(Qoelet 3,7). A particular
silence is that of friendship and of love: love creates a non-verbal
silence, much more eloquent and intense than any word; it is a language
in which silence itself becomes word. This is how a silence of presence
and fullness is born in which the simple staying together becomes a
source of joy: this silence is a loving, attentive and contemplative
listening to; “a subtle silence that turns into voice like Elijah on
mount Oreb (cf. 1 King: 19,12). Finally, there is also interior
silence, in the heart of each one of us, to welcome the presence of
others and of the Other, God: this is a disposition that digs out a
space for the Lord in the intimacy of our being and allows His Word to
find an abode in us.
Why to keep silence,
why are we to
learn silence in a progressive and reasonable way? First of all because
from silence such energies can emerge as translate themselves into a
more fecund intellectual activity, capable of stimulating our memory and
of sharpening our faculties of reasoning and imagination. Yes, in
silence we become more receptive of the impressions transmitted by our
senses; we become capable of listening to, looking at, touching and
tasting. Let us think of a common experience: does it not become natural
to be silent when we give or receive a caress? Long hours of silence
make us different; they help us to look within our being, to dwell with
ourselves and, above all, to listen to what inhabits our depth
Thus, we gradually learn
the reasons why we speak, since we come to know unsuspected truths. We
discover that our words are instruments of conquest and seduction, means
to allow our “I” to acquire power, success and dominion on others:
aggressive and interested words, bent to non-confessed and non
confessable scopes, instruments of manipulation. Summing up, thanks
to silence, we learn how to speak, we decide when and whether
it is worthwhile to break the silence, we dominate the way and the style
by which we turn to others
Through the aware
practice of silence we can watch and see that our words may be always a
source of dialogue, knowledge, consolation and peace. Only then, through
grace, our communication can also build up communion; only then
we can open our hart to the listening to God.
The
silence of God
Among the numerous
meanings of silence there is one that today is called to cause wih
excessive easiness: the silence of God, not in the tragically
interrogative sense of his apparent keeping silence before the abyss of
evil, but also in the tiny, daily and personal sense. Many times we hear
complaints that sound like accusations against heaven, “God does not
speak to me; he does not tell me anything!” These words often are not
pronounced by spiritual aged figures, whose long experience of prayer
might have known also “dark nights” of God’s absence, but by youths or
common believers who, with their complaints, seem to justify their luck
of faith, their going far from places and temples of prayer, of dialogue
with the Lord, in faithfulness of love. The question, “Where is God?”
has become almost a habit every time we are shaken by some terrible
event, accusing him of a guilty silence in the unravelling of our
personal happenings. Among other things, this frees us from even more
disquieting interrogatives, “Where is man, brother of his similar?
Where am I? What about my responsibility and solidarity?
In reality,
the “silence of God” is a Biblical expression, which the Old
Testament puts particularly in the mouth of men and women of prayer.
This proves that the silent God is not so much an argument of
chattering or discussions, but rather an interrogative at the peak of a
long suffering; when one is caught by anguish, oppression, massacre or
an injustice that kills, and there is no one that comes to the rescue,
nobody to listen, to defend, to denounce the evil, it is then that the
believer calls God and, if nothing changes, he supplicates
whole-heartedly, “God whom I praise, do not be silent! ” «If you stay
silent, I shall be like those who sink into oblivion” (Psalm: 28, 1). He
who prays like this, does not presume that God may speak, but expects
some change in his situation, a change in the surrounding reality and in
himself. In fact, we can live a suffering journey without denouncing the
silence of God, but this is possible only if we endeavour to understand
that our journey has a sense. In his extreme abandonment on the cross,
He turned to the Father intoning psalm 22, the song of the right man
persecuted until death, “God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” But
just in that psalm, after the lamentation, when it seemed that
everything was aporia, that everything was over, the praying voice rose
up with the exclamation, “You have answered me” (Psalm: 22,22).
However, these
invocations of the psalmist, these supplications to God that He may
cease beeping silent, are to be decoded : in other words, it is the
matter of discerning whether it is God who keeps silent or the
believers, the people, the praying persons who do not listen, unable
to catch the word of God, that may be pronounced in a different way,
through unexpected and unforeseen events. Anyhow, we ought to believe
that God may speak also with his silence, through his voice of subtle
silence? (1 King: 19, 12)? Yes, silence can be another kind of
language, near that of the pronounced word or of word-events that are
realised. With this regard, we should not forget an extremely
enlightening Biblical text, which once resounded as an entrance antiphon
of the midnight Christmas Mass, “When peaceful silence lay over all and
night had run the half of ever swift course, down from the heaven, from
the royal throne leapt your all-powerful word” (Wisdom: 18,14-15); This
is echoed by the suggestive expression of St. Ignatius of Antioch,
“Jesus Christ is the Word that came out of silence (Ai Magnesii
8,2).
Yes, God is truly
silence and word: not a mute and deaf silence, but one which is a
way of communicating something different from what the word does, a way
that, in given circumstances, may reveal itself more efficacious and
“eloquent” than any speech. The Word of God remains written in his great
silence and finds in it its origin and possibility to be read: we ought
to listen to both of them, because both of them are presence of God, of
a God who cannot help being presence, because he has always revealed
himself as such. We know that the temptation of atheism and of
nothingness is constantly in ambush even, and perhaps above all, in
men and women of prayer, in great contemplatives who live faithfully and
in a solid adhesion to the Lord: they, too, may finish by complaining of
God’s silence, weeping for His absence and invoking a word. Yet, they
are the ones to give testimony that the presence of God is never
missing: God is always present in man created by Him to his own image
and loved by Him till the end.
We accuse God of mutism,
attribute to Him the emptiness of our heart because we are unable to
listen to Him, because we expect from Him a word to our own image and
similitude.
Enzo
Bianchi
Basic community – 13887
Magnano (Biella)
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