Ann Rennie Reflects

We live in a hyper-connected world and sometimes that connection is useful and good. But often that connection is facile and burdensome, adding another layer of intrusion that does not value add to the lives we hope to lead. Layer upon layer of digital notification, pinging, trilling and alerts, fear of missing out on something that may not really matter has led us to a place where silence and reflection have been mislaid, where the chatter has become so pervasive that we are rarely released from its stranglehold.

It is a cacophony out there, everyone struggling to be heard, everybody talking, but few slowing down to listen. We have awards for public speaking, for oratory, for rhetorical appeal, for debating. Everyone wants to have the last word, to coin the catchy phrase, to be lauded for their capacity for eloquence or humour, to be a talking-head. 

But we have no awards for listening, for being attentive and patient, for allowing someone to pause and collect their thoughts before they are uttered, to lend an ear to someone’s confidences or ponderings or simply to be in companionable silence until the right words break through.

In a world predicated on pace, we speak before we think, instead of thinking before we speak. The loudest voice is dominant but that does not mean it is definitive or even any good. There is constant chatter, a little of it useful, a lot of it just filling a void. 

What we need to do is to reset our habits, so that listening properly becomes habitual. We have forgotten that listen and silent are anagrams and that our relationships would be improved if we nurtured the capacity to reduce the noise coming from our end. If we could embrace the silence that allows us to listen to what the other person is really saying, our relationships would flourish. Our words and their import would mean something as human to human connection, not simply the sound of babble.

Rather, we need to embrace the sound of silence. We need to listen to others, but even more pressingly, we need to listen to ourselves. If we enter into this silence and let it fall like dew, refreshing us, giving us pause, renewing our thoughts, we re-enter the fray with poise and purpose. We recognise that we do not have to be “on” all the time, that the “off” switch can give us a bit of a spiritual recharge. This silence can be contemplative or prayerful or it may just be a mental calming down where we are not overwhelmed by the thousands of thoughts that assail the human being every day. Sometimes, those second thoughts, arrived at through a more considered process, are the ones that can illuminate our way ahead, rather than the first thoughts which can be impulsive and less helpful. 

Jesus withdrew to the desert when he needed to pray, to get away from it all, to find the silence that speaks. Without distraction, he could hear his own thoughts and God’s voice unmediated or diminished through the clatter and clutter of external noise. This removal was restorative. His silence before Pilate (Matthew 27:14) showed strength, power, and trust in the Father’s will. 

The famous verse from the Psalms 46:10 Be still and know that I am God reminds us that inner and outer stillness helps with navigating the silence. Sometimes, this silence can be confronting, so used are we to filling up every moment with doing, rather than simply being. Ecclesiastes 3:7 reminds us that there is a time to keep silent, and a time to speak. This is not simply an omission of speech, but a deliberate refraining that is purposeful. Keeping silent can be a sign of wisdom when others are mired in a welter of words. In the accompanying silence of contemplative solitude, Richard Rohr reminds us that God can reach us because we are out of the way of so much distraction.

In our tradition, we know that many saints and mystics used silence as a way to God. It provided a holy access. Over Christmas, we sang Silent night, Holy night, all is calm all is bright, knowing that in certain times we can reach God through the avenue of silence and an expansiveness of heart is the result. Christina Rosetti in her poem Echo writes of the speaking silence of a dream. We need to look at all the speaking silences around us, in love and nature, in beauty, truth and goodness, in all the small and daily things that do not clamour for attention but exist to lift up our hearts and set our minds on things that are above.

Proverbs 17: 27-28 reminds us – The one who has knowledge uses words with restraint, and whoever has understanding is even-tempered. Even fools are thought wise if they keep silent and discerning if they hold their tongues.

Now, none of us want to be thought foolish, but we would love to be thought discerning and wise. Proverbs 16:24 earlier says, Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones. So, as we continue on into 2026 let us look to silence, wherever we find it, as an oasis, a place of refreshment, a well-spring where the right thoughts and words may be conjured for judicious later use.

On the back of my kitchen door, I have a tattered copy of Desiderata and have always loved its words. Its first line cuts through completely. As a fourteen year old, I remember hearing it recorded by Les Crane, his mellifluous spoken word recording winning a Grammy in 1971. (On YouTube). 

Go placidly amid the noise and haste and remember what peace there may be in silence. 

As we journey on through the season of Lent, let us revel in the sound of the silence that speaks to the soul.

By Ann Rennie