Points to Ponder: Want to change the world? First learn to keep still

In the sixth century, Gregory the Great said that we must move from “the secrecy of inward meditation” to “the wide space of active life,” but then quickly return to “the bosom of contemplation” because we will “too speedily freeze” if we do not “return with anxious earnestness to the fire of contemplation.” So, clearly, this tension I feel isn’t new. But then again, Gregory the Great couldn’t tweet. 

For me, the internet has made this tension much more pronounced, particularly when it comes to the place of public advocacy and debate. We now have the ability through social media to advocate for issues and causes every moment of the day. Every moment we don’t is now an intentional choice. “Your silence is deafening” can be used to shame anyone who isn’t glued to the screen speaking out on any and every issue. 

In addition, social media allows us to be aware of daily injustices all over the world. The amount of important and worthy causes that call for our attention feels endless. If we neglect any of them, is our silence deafening? Advocacy in support of the oppressed, the poor, the marginalised and the pursuit of peace requires action. Particularly in a democracy, we have a responsibility to raise our voices to call for a more just and compassionate society for all people. But the practices of silence, contemplation and stillness are essential disciplines in Christian spirituality. If you survey the advice of the saints from the past two millenniums, a consistent piece of advice emerges: Shut up. Be still. 

In the fourth century, the Syrian poet Ephrem wrote, “Let your silence speak/to one who listens to you; with silent mouth.” The 16th-century Spanish Catholic mystic St. John of the Cross said, “What we need most in order to make progress is to be silent before this great God.” Mother Teresa said, “We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence.” 

Voices of the church — across racial, ethnic, denominational, national and temporal bounds — urge us to silence and stillness. So, is silence violence or the very way to know God? How do we find the right balance between the need to work for change in the world and the need to cultivate a rich interior life of prayer and stillness? Is “balance” even what we are after since the pursuit of both justice and the contemplative life must be radical, wholehearted and counter-cultural? How do we know when to speak up and when to withdraw? As a privileged person, how do I not turn a blind eye to the cause of justice but also not lose myself in a fog of screens, noise and distraction? There are no simple answers here. We need to examine ourselves to see if our silence and stillness grows from fear or apathy or if it is the holy silence of wisdom. But the witness of the church is that action must grow from a deep well of silence and prayer. 

The literature scholar Alan Jacobs argues that we need to embrace “not a permanent silence, but a refusal to speak at the frantic pace set by social media.” He calls silence “the first option — the preferential option for the poor in spirit, you might say; silence as a form of patience, a form of reflection, a form of prayer.” 

Warren is a opinion columnist with NYT©2021 

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