On the Silence of Jesus

As I have breakfast on most Saturday mornings, after the parish Mass, I listen to one of the radio programs with a program host by the name of Michelle Constant. The program is interesting, it is alive, but, to my way of perceiving: how noisy the music is, and how soothing the silence,  when the song is over.

It strengthens my conviction that ours is not an age which fosters recollection, which favours anything  that is not loud and obtrusive indeed, at times one has the impression  that people have a fear of detaching themselves,  even for a moment,  from the barrage of words and images  that mark and fill our days.

The Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI, in one of his exhortations, recalls the necessity  of our being educated in the value of silence:
He writes:

“Rediscovering the centrality of God’s word  in the life of the Church  also means  rediscovering a sense of recollection and inner repose.

The great tradition of the Fathers of the Churchteaches us that the mysteries of Christ all involve silence. Only in silence can the word of God find a home in us, as it did in Mary, woman of the word and, inseparably, woman of silence”.

This principle—
that without silence we neither hear nor listen nor receive the word—applies above all to personal prayer, but it also pertains to our liturgies: in order to facilitate an authentic listening, they must also be rich in moments of silence and unspoken receptivity.

St Augustine has this observation:

“When the Word of God increases, the words of men fail”:
“Verbo crescente, verba deficient.”

The Gospels often present Jesus—

especially at times of crucial decisions—

withdrawing alone to a place set apart from the crowds and from his own disciples, in order to pray in the silence and to abide in his filial relationship with God.

To quote Pope Benedict XVI again:

“Silence is capable of excavating an interior space in our inmost depths so that God may abide there, so that his Word may remain in us, so that love for him may be rooted in our minds and in our hearts and animate our lives.

We need, then,to learn silence, [to learn] the openness to listening that opens us to the other, to the Word of God.

There is an important element in the relation of silence with prayer. For in fact there exists not only our silence, which disposes us to listening to God’s Word; often in our prayer, we find ourselves before the silence of God; we experience a sense of abandonment; it seems to us that God is not listening and that He does not respond.

But this silence of God—as Jesus also experienced—

is not a sign of His absence.
The Christian knows well that the Lord is present
and that he is listening,  even in the darkness of suffering, rejection and solitude.
Jesus reassures the disciples and each one of us that God knows well our needs at every moment of life. He teaches the disciples:

“In praying do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard for their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask Him” (Matt. 6:7-8): an attentive, silent, open heart is more important than many words.

God knows us intimately, more deeply than we know ourselves, and He loves us: and knowing this should suffice.

In the Bible, Job’s experience is particularly significant in this regard. This man quickly loses everything: family, wealth, friends, health; it seems that God’s attitude towards him is precisely one of abandonment, of total silence.

And yet Job, in his relationship with God, speaks with God, cries out to God; in his prayer, despite everything, he preserves his faith intact and, in the end, he discovers the value of his experience and of God’s silence.

And thus, in the end, turning to his Creator, he is able to conclude: “I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you” (Job 42:5).

Nearly all of us know God only through hearsay, and the more we are open to His silence and to our silence, the more we begin to know Him truly. This supreme confidence, which opens way to a profound encounter with God, matures in silence.

St Francis Xavier prayed to the Lord in these words:

I love you, not because you can give me heaven or condemn me to hell, but because you are my God. I love You, because You are You.

The cross of Christ not only portrays the silence of Jesus as His final word to the Father; it also reveals that God speaks through the silence:Pope Benedict XVI writes:

“The silence of God, the experience of the distance of the almighty Father, is a decisive stage in the earthly journey of the Son of God, the incarnate Word. Hanging from the wood of the cross, he lamented the suffering caused by that silence: ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ (Mark 15:34; Matthew 27:46).

Advancing in obedience to his very last breath, in the obscurity of death, Jesus called upon the Father. He commended himself to him at the moment of passing, through death, to eternal life: ‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit’ (Luke 23:46)”. The experience of Jesus on the cross speaks deeply of the situation of the man who prays and of the culmination of prayer: after having heard and acknowledged God’s Word,we must also measure ourselves by God’s silence, which is an important expression of the same divine Word.

How does Jesus teach us to pray?
In the  Compendium of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, n. 544, we find a clear answer:

“Jesus teaches us to pray not only with the Our Father”—
certainly the central act in his teaching on how we are to pray—

”but also when [He himself] prays. In this way he teaches us, in addition to the content,
the dispositions necessary for every true prayer: purity of heart that seeks the Kingdom and forgives one’s enemies,bold and filial faith that goes beyond what we feel and understand, and watchfulness that protects the disciple from temptation”.

In Jesus the newness of our dialogue with God is revealed: filial prayer, which the Father awaits from His children. And we learn from Jesus how constant prayer helps us to interpret our lives, to make decisions, to recognize and accept our vocation, to discover the talents that God had given us, daily to fulfil His Will, which is the only path to attaining fulfilment in our lives.

The prayer of Jesus indicates to us who are often preoccupied by the efficiency of our work and the concrete results we achieve that we need to stop and to experience moments of intimacy with God, “detaching ourselves” from the daily din in order to listen, to go to the “root” that supports and nourishes life.

One of the most beautiful moments in the prayer of Jesus is precisely the moment when he—in order to face the disease, distress and limitations of those to whom he is speaking,— turns to his Father in prayer, thus teaching those around him where the source of hope and salvation is to be sought.

But Jesus reaches the heights of his prayer to the Father during his Passion and Death, when he pronounces his supreme “yes” to the plan of God and reveals how the human will finds its fulfilment precisely in adhering fully to the divine will, rather than the opposite.

In Jesus’ prayer, in his cry to the Father on the Cross, (I quote from the Catechism of the Catholic Church):

“all the troubles, for all time, of humanity enslaved by sin and death, all the petitions and intercessions of salvation history are summed up…Here the Father accepts them and, beyond all hope, answers them beyond all hope, answers them by raising his Son. Thus is fulfilled and brought to completion the drama of prayer in the economy of creation and salvation” (CCC 2606).

Jesus’ mortal silence on the Cross is his final word to the Father, his supreme prayer. To hear God’s word requires the cultivation of outward and inward silence, so that his voice can resound within our hearts and shape our lives.

But Jesus teaches us that God also speaks to us, especially at times of difficulty, through his silence, which invites us to deeper faith and trust in his promises. Jesus is our great teacher of prayer; from his prayer we learn to speak with confidence to our heavenly Father as his beloved sons and daughters. In this filial dialogue we are also taught to recognize God’s many gifts and to obey his will, which gives meaning and direction to our lives.

Lord, indeed, teach us to pray.