Adventures in Silence
Peterson recently commented about his experience of Quaker worship.
For those unfamiliar with Quaker practice, we gather in silence and there is no minister/priest/pastor to lead. We wait in the silence until someone feels they have something to say. Sometimes many people speak, sometimes no-one speaks. In the meetings I am familiar with about 4-5 speakers is about the norm - although I have been to one or two very lively meetings with many speakers and quite a few meetings that have been entirely silent.
What I appreciate about Quaker meetings is the space to be still and wait for a while, to stop, reflect, remember who I am and remember those around me and simply be. In the stillness I gain perspective and re-orientate myself towards the things I believe truly count.
Its also important for me to do this with others, to remind myself that I am not alone, and to be part of a community seeking to live well and live up to certain things we value highly - love, compassion, justice, peace, truth, integrity, amongst others.
However, I'm becoming increasingly curious about what other peoples' experiences of silent meetings are, and what other people actually do. I know some meditate, or try to centre down. In the meeting I attend in the UK, it is not unusual for people to be reading during the meeting (copies of the Bible and Quaker Faith and Practice are liberally scattered throughout the room so there's always something in easy reach, and I know some people bring their own reading material). So what are people's experiences of silence, what do you do in the silence and what do you find in it?
(PS. Don't feel you have to be a Quaker to comment, it would be interesting to hear from other people who make use of silence in their religious meetings).
posted by Ruthie @ 10:09 PM
8 comments
8 Comments:
Whether in a sermon, or a time of open contemplation, my general preferred way is visual. I'll create pictures if I can, or else run through perceptions in my head. This might bring 'revelation'(whatever that word means), and allows me to be receptive - when you have an active imagination it's difficult to think absolutely nothing!
sometimes i'm uncomfortable with the silence - on one occasion i found myself humming elton john's "the bitch is back" just to make things seem more alive...but when we have silence in christian meetings i've been in i usually try to think various deep spiritual thoughts, though my mind frequently wanders!
I like silence in worship. I guess the fact that I go to a charismatic church which has more under 5s in it than it does adults (yes, really!) means that we've kinda lost the silence a little bit for a while.
I love the way that in silence, no-one and nothing tells you what to think. If there's music on, or someone speaking, your brain can't help but connect and it draws your thoughts in that direction. With silence, you're free to think in any direction you like. Sometimes that's not so good but I do like the freedom.
Having grown up in a programmed meeting, I find that many of the people with whom I worship find the silence empty. Some rush to fill the space with announcements or updates on their health or a prayer request. (And I appreciate this opportunity to share in their lives.) But programmed meetings are less than liberal in their allowance for such spaces. 10 minutes is considered interminably long. Very few seem to use the time as communion (experiencing one-ness with each other and with Christ). Very few of the spoken messages call us to reconciliation, remind us of the need for integrity and justice, or give us the mercy that we lack. I find myself, more and more, taking time before I drive to meeting to pray and consider what (if anything) I should say. I know that if I wait until the moment, I will not have the time I need to center, to listen, to pray.
Oooh, welcome new commenters (and Laurence ;).)
Rach, indeed, one of the things I like about silence is the freedom to go where it takes me (or I take myself) without the influence of a preacher or singer. Its interesting you mention under 5s (and more under 5s than adults - wow!) Anyway, we have kids in meeting. One of the things I like the most is listening to their babbling and to babies gurgling. Some seem quite fascinated the sound of their voice in an otherwise silent room! There's a certain lightness, gentleness and life about it, not to mention the occasional spark of sheer hilarity. A couple of weeks ago, a little boy decided to get up and go to the loo during meeting. He marched across the room, swinging his arms and singing quite loudly, 'De dum de dum de dum.' I burst out laughing, and glancing over to see him I noticed my friend Amanda also giggling. I think it adds to my experience. (I'm not sure how other people feel about it).
Eric - welcome! I also think 10 minutes of silence would be interminably long for me too! If I knew it was only going to last for 10 minutes I'd be waiting for it to be over. In a hour there's time to settle, relax into it and actually enjoy it. 10 minutes - I'd be watching the clock and fidgetting!!! However, I've never been to a programmed Quaker meeting - how do they work?
Ruthie
One of the contexts which has taught me most about prayer of silence is Taize prayer. Since I was at such a service last night, I thought I might quote some words on silence from the website of the Taize Community:
"When we try to express communion with God in words, our minds quickly come up short. But, in the depths of our being, through the Holy Spirit, Christ is praying far more than we imagine.
"Although God never stops trying to communicate with us, this is never in order to impose. The voice of God is often heard only in a whisper, in a breath of silence. Remaining in silence in God’s presence, open to the Holy Spirit, is already prayer.
"The road to contemplation is not one of achieving inner silence at all costs by following some technique that creates a kind of emptiness within. If, instead, with a childlike trust we let Christ pray silently within us, then one day we shall discover that the depths of our being are inhabited by a Presence."
Hi Ruthie-Annie, I was raised as a Quaker and I have always taken great solace in the silence of meetings for worship. I do not think however, that I would enjoy a meeting in which people felt uncomfortable with silence and therefore, had to fill the stillness with random thoughts and the sound of their own voice. My sister used to attend a meeting in Washington DC where the meeting turned more into a political forum than about centering the spirit. I enjoy the silence and from the silence I have always found clarity and inspiration. I give myself permission to have a time out and to listen to the voice within. Interestingly, I just wrote a blog about my experience in meeting called "what if god were one of us"
http://melissadesign.blogspot.com/2005/02/what-if-god-were-one-of-us.html
I look forward to reading some more of your blogs....Melissa
The "What do you (Quakers) do in the silence?" is a question that I always have to draw a deep breath around. (Like just now. Seriously.)
I am currently part of a newly formed, yet unnamed worship group in Minnesota. We've been worshipping together for 2 years. One thing we have in common that differs greatly from one of the nearby large monthly meetings is that we each have a belief in and an experiential knowledge of Something Divine. And we are experiencing a sort of spiritual intimacy: we share openly our desire to know the Spirit, to seek the Spirit's Guidance for us, to tell one another when and how the Spirit has shown up for us in our lives, and to tell each other when we are feeling dry and distant from the Spirit.
When we come together for worship, given our shared belief in the Divine, there is a mutual, reciprocal trust that we are, in fact, doing the same thing:
We are being still so that we may listen more clearly to that which God is wanting to tell us, show us, sing to us, whisper to us... We have come to the Banquet, ready to be fed by the Bread of Life and then some!
There is such unity in our practice and in our belief--that God is still speaking to us--that many times in our short 2 years, when worship was broken, during a period of quiet reflection, a number of us have spoken of our inward tenderness, our sense of connectedness and our experience of the Divine Mystery. And often our experiences are confirmed when we hear one another speak of the sense of the Presence in our midst that we ourselves experienced...
As for what I do in worship...? Sometimes I catch myself "trying" to listen inwardly to the Shepherd. But the trying gets in the way, much like when learning a new language, if I focus on translating word by word, I miss the concept that is encased in the message. But if I relax and simply absorb the whole message, something deep within me makes all the connections I need, and Voila! I understand what is being said, despite the fact that I did not translate it word by word.
So in worship, when I realize I am trying to listen instead of actively resting as a way into listening, then I am able to return to a relaxed receptive state. I find that I often feel my lower back moves against the back of the chair as I do so. I end up imagining or even sensing that God is standing behind me, arms thrown around my shoulders, and I lean, I lean into those Everlasting Arms...
Other times, especially recently, I have come to understand that in unprogrammed Quaker worship, there is an invitation for us all to be at the Holy Spirit's Table, the Banquet, and we are there as guests, and we are there to listen to our Dinner Host when the time comes. We will need to pay attention, and at the time when God speaks, we will all lean in to listen more carefully, and occasionally we will nudge one another and smile at one another when we recognize that God is speaking to our mutual condition; and when it is over, we will go home full, having been Well Fed by our time Together with the Spirit.
. . . . . . . .
Sadly for me, in a meeting in which there is great spiritual variety, I have experienced no sense of that corporate connection or gatheredness, and I find I mostly end up focusing on my own thoughts, my own world. Occasionally I can imagine God circling us all together, but that then interferes with my ability to Rest in God and Listen.
The image I have in less centered meetings for worship is that, around the Banquet Table, the dinner guests are each doing different things: some are reading; some are knitting with the radio on in the background; some are having whispered conversations with one another... And I picture myself throwing down my chair and saying, "Hey! There is something Magnificent being shared with us here, and I can't Listen or Hear with so much activity going on!"
My fear of being so "radical" usually quells that impulse pretty quickly, though. smile
As I empty myself into this comment, I feel I have articulated a number of things that have been turning over and over inside myself. If you don't mind, I think I'll turn this overly long comment into a post on my blog.
Blessings,
Liz
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