Cultivating the Art of Stillness

“Be still and know that I am God.” (Ps 46:10) Is there anything more comforting than the knowledge that God is in control? True, this is sometimes difficult to accept. We long to control everything in our lives. But this verse from Psalms contains loving reassurance, and in those times when we surrender to that tender command, the peace we feel is indescribable.

Stillness is a struggle for many. We live in a hectic world, full of noise and all kinds of distractions. New distractions are born constantly, thanks to technological advances. Stillness is necessary amid the chaos. Even the secular perspective recognizes this need, as we see by the popularity of “self-care” rituals which typically involve a block of time set aside for solitude and skincare.

There is nothing wrong with setting aside time to take care of your body. Our bodies are gifts from God, and we should treat them with respect and care for our physical health. If we can acknowledge this of our bodies, how much more should we recognize the need to set aside time to care for our intellects? Our souls?

Mother Theresa famously said “We need to find God and He cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence.” How does one cultivate the art of stillness? How does one develop a taste for silence? Like many other things in life, the simplest way is to start regularly doing the thing, making it a habit that over time you come to enjoy, even love. It’s like saying a daily Rosary. How do you do it? Well, by saying a Rosary every day. At first it may be tedious. In time, as a dear priest, Father Martin, said in a homily about praying the Rosary “it gets to be a hunger.” When you commit to regularly doing something which bestows grace, you will naturally be more inclined to that activity, and eventually, to other activities which bestow grace.

If seeking to cultivate a deeper spiritual life, consider a commitment to daily prayer, and quiet, regular spiritual reading. Consider the atmosphere in which you plan to do this, because it does make a difference. My pastor recommends setting aside time daily for formal prayer, even if this necessitates an earlier alarm. He also recommends having a “spot” for this ritual. The more inviting you make your “spiritual spot” the easier it will be to stick to this new ritual.

Music can help lull a person to stillness. Gregorian chant, or Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos instantly calm my mind and help me focus on whatever I am reading or praying. Bach-and-a-book is my happy place indoors. How right Aristotle was that the arts aim toward the good! I find listening to Bach seems to help as I am slowly working through the beautiful philosophy of Pope JPII the Great, whom I love to read and re-read. There is so much to be gleaned from JP II’s writings!

Of course, an obvious sanctuary for stillness is the Adoration Chapel, where silence is required (don’t hesitate to silently, charitably admonish visitors who don’t adhere to this rule). This is precious time spent in the Presence of Jesus, and the awe and humility experienced before the Blessed Sacrament make stillness effortless. Tantum Ergo, indeed. In this stillness, “Let Jesus present in the Blessed Sacrament speak to your hearts. It is He Who is the answer of life that you seek.”  (Pope St. John Paul II)

This stillness should spill over into our attitude during Holy Mass. This is not to say we don’t participate in the Mass, as of course, we give the responses. But our whole attitude should reflect the solemnity of the Mass, as we abstain from any speech outside the responses. Our posture and dress should reflect this stillness as well, so as not to distract anyone else from the Mass.

Don’t underestimate the influence your example has on those around you, in guiding them to likewise embrace stillness.  I can easily summon to mind an image of my father quietly reading “Catholic things.” Whether he was reading Cardinal John Henry Newman’s Parochial and Plain Sermons or The Summae, it is a scene I have witnessed hundreds of times. It is burned in my memory. I saw him make time for peace and quiet, prayer and reflection. Equally important, I saw and heard how much he enjoyed this time and appreciated what he got from these books.

Embracing quiet can be difficult at first, but as Father Martin told us, “It gets to be a hunger.” The fruits of stillness are abundant, and there are so many ways to be still with God. We are never too young or too old to develop this practice and reap the benefits.