Silence is.... liturgical

 

As a former intern coordinator in Washington D.C., I had the opportunity to visit Gallaudet University.  Gallaudet is the only university where all programs are specifically designed for deaf and hard of hearing students.    I saw students communicating, collaborating, asking and answering questions, interacting, socializing, storytelling,  yes, even laughing—all in complete silence.  I have never experienced the power of silence as I did that day.

Perhaps my experience at Gallaudet was magnified because most of us seem to thrive on noise.   The first thing many of us do after starting our car is turn on the radio.  Often, the first thing I do when I walk into my house is turn on the radio or the television.   When I go for a walk I often see people not enjoying the sounds of nature, but listening to whatever is coming through their iPods.   It’s become a challenge even to have a conversation with the person sitting next to me on an airplane, as most  passengers are now equipped with headphones or ear-buds.

At the same time, the hunger for silence seems to be growing.  Bookstores are filled with patrons seeking a hushed atmosphere to read.  Silent retreats are booked with visitors trying to get away from the noise and chaos of every day life.

We could say our liturgy is jam-packed with “holy” noise, words, prayers, sacred music.  Yet, the liturgy also calls for silence—especially after the proclamation of the Word of God, the Homily and Holy Communion.    As in life, we need a balance of sound and silence in our liturgies.  Our Mass is so rich and overflowing with meaning, we need silence to digest it all.  The liturgy invites us to be quiet, not only as individuals, but as a corporate body  who, like the student body at Gallaudet, know how to be with and for each other—even in silence.

O Lord, help us to be still, that we may know that you are God.   Amen.