Silence in Liturgies

Being intentional about Contemplation

How much time do we offer for reflection in our lives? To observe that people are busier than ever before or that we have so much that may distract us (screens, email, text, social media, 24-hour news cycles, etc.) is so evident that it is a bit embarrassing to point out. Suppose reflection, or, to use a slightly more spiritual word, contemplation, is complex to come by for individuals. Can't we assume that it is even more challenging to come by for bodies of people like the worshipping community called church?

I once heard an ordained clergyperson and mental health worker named Angela Whitehill address a group of clergy on mental health and preaching. She said, "We do not have enough time for reflection in life, let alone in church. Trust me, you're mistaken if you think your parishioners are taking time to reflect on your sermon while in their car after service." What are they doing? "Making lunch plans," she declared! She also noted some benefits of having time for quiet reflection, breathing, and mindfulness. Yes, such time and practice can aid in processing liturgies and messages, but reflection practices are also healthy for mental health. They are good coping strategies for managing stress and anxiety and thinking through one's place in life. The church is the community of people devoted to salvation, and as the great tradition has stated (though forgotten about, sadly), salvation is holistic: body, spirit, creation! Therefore, the church ought to care deeply about mental health--and one way to do that is to develop some times of contemplation and reflection into the corporate life of liturgy because they are scantly offered anywhere else.

I am in favor of intentional liturgical silences. Yet, I realize that liturgical silences may not be popular at first. I remember bringing the issue up at a gathering of pastor theologians, most of whom were thoroughly of the evangelical variety, and they worshipped in a very non-traditional or "contemporary" (that word is not my favorite, but it is well used) style. One of the participants replied to my admonishment for reflection time in liturgical spaces by saying, "Are you kidding me? Silence is the death knell of our services." Somebody told me that each moment of worship ought to be timed and planned so there were no awkward or unintentional silences. I agree; unintended silences tend toward feelings of awkwardness and social sloppiness. To me, this is sad. Can we not tolerate a few beats of quiet? Are we really that addicted to sound, scripted moments, and distraction? Even though I agree with that as a current social feeling, I still believe in the possibility of silences and intentional moments of reflection, even for large bodies of people.

Practically, if leaders of liturgy lead people in moments of silence, reflection, breathing, and other similar concomitant exercises simply by communicating what, how, and why, congregants and participants will be open to the momentary practice. That is really what it takes to break through 90% of the awkwardness--just lean into it and tell people what they are in for and that they are free to feel whatever way they think about it. And by encouraging them to own their feelings, you are doing the excellent work of dignifying each person's experience. Theoretically, these practices enable experiences of the divine--they make space for holy encounters. It is my estimation that we creatures never escape the presence of divinity; our worlds are ever-enchanted ontologically; it is only in our perceptions that they have become disenchanted and natural in the sense that there is nothing beyond or beyond the phenomenon of life like God. This is precisely why spiritual practices exist. They attune human minds to a more profound realization; indeed, spiritual practices give people "eyes to see and ears to hear," what is already ever-present.

So why would we not embrace and offer times of silent reflection in church? If it can help a practitioner cut through all the noisyness of their lives to hear the truth, is that not worth it? Those practicing Heysichastic prayer, the holy hours, silent retreats, the daily examine, Quaker worship, and even today's many mindfulness-saturated practices are certainly on to something. Indeed, shutting out the noise and many distractions can only help us to see more clearly. It can help our communication of sacred things break free beyond a transactional relationship into the actual end of any religious practice--transformation.