Welcome to part 2 of Silence & Solitude.

In part 1, I share my personal longing and reflections on this spiritual practice.

Maybe you relate?

This time, I offer verses and quotes from insightful authors whose voices inspire many on their spiritual journeys.

The content in this blog post was taken from an assignment for a course called Personal Formation and Development through Ambrose Seminary, taught by Mark Buchanan.

Find Amazon links to the books mentioned in the bibliography at the end!

The demands of this modern world leave little opportunity to be still, let alone quiet.

It is comforting to know that throughout biblical and church history, in what may have been simpler times, practices of silence and solitude were as necessary as they are for busy individuals, especially Christian leaders, today.

Jesus pursued these spaces for himself and his disciples, leaving no question that Christ-followers must execute what John Mark Comer (2019) describes as The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry—a phrase originally coined by Dallas Willard and popularized by John Ortberg—and fall into what Rebekah Lyons (2019) calls Rhythms of Renewal.

I chose the classical spiritual practice of silence and solitude for its foundational position to all other spiritual disciplines for personal formation and because of longing (which I unpacked in part 1).

In Sacred Rhythms, Ruth Haley Barton (2006) says that our deepest longings move us beyond the sense of guilt or obligation to walk with integrity toward our heart's desires (18).

She presents two questions in solitude (37):

How have I been wanting to be with God, and How has God been wanting to be with me?

Along with these key questions, we can ask:

How have I been trying to run from God?

After briefly surveying the biblical foundation and church history of silence and solitude, I reflect on its benefits, potential drawbacks, and integration into modern life.

Examples of silence and solitude weave through scripture and church history.

From prophets and kings to Jesus, holy stillness and reflection set the standard.

Isaiah 30:15b** says,

“'In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength.’”

A quiet posture of worship is encouraged in Habakkuk 2:20,

"But the Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth be silent before him."

Barton notes that David, fulfilling numerous positions over a lifetime, shares messages that tell the truth about this place in the human soul (119).

Psalm 62:1 exemplifies this,

"Truly my soul finds rest in God; my salvation comes from him.”

Another biblical character, the prophet Elijah, encounters God not in the wind or fire but in the quieter form of a whisper (1 Kings 19:11-12).

The greatest inspiration comes from Jesus, who was empowered to fulfil his earthly mission by regularly entering solitude.

Luke observed,

"Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed" (Luke 5:16).

And Jesus speaks to this himself in Matthew 6:6,

"But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you."

This private space, embodying complete reliance on the Father before stepping into public ministry, was continually pursued by Jesus.

"Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed'' (Mark 1:35).

This practice, modelled by many biblical characters, carries on in church history, especially prominent among monastics and contemplatives like Saint Benedict. He made this practice a part of his rhythm of life, which “was crafted in isolation, but tested and transformed in community” (Macchia 2012, 16).

Fathers and mothers of the faith, like my beloved dad and dear grandmother, who both went to be with Jesus in recent years, also lived lives that bore good fruit from this secret place of communion with God.

With all these heroic examples of silence and solitude, could this soulful practice have any drawbacks?

Peace, prayer, reflection, repentance, and discernment only begin to describe its positive results.

Barton says,

“Solitude and silence help me experience the more contemplative elements of prayer” (90).

However, let us not be of no earthly good; anything taken to an extreme can become unhealthy.

Barton affirms that while introverts may be more attracted to this practice than extroverts, all personalities benefit (184).

This practice is not for self-care or escaping from responsibility but soul care—reshaping the heart, renewing the mind, and healing the body.

Barton shares this caution,

“Our rhythm of spiritual practice can become nothing more than a spiritual self-help program that is full of human effort” (185).

Silence and solitude, essential spiritual practices to employ with balance, are incredibly life-giving.

My longing for more silence and solitude in this new season of life, where I am no longer bouncing six babies but home-educating and driving them here and there, is to take hold of what God has for me.

Barton says,

“The kingdom of God is here now, if we are willing to arrange our life to embrace it” (180).

As I shared in part 1, there was ample time to retreat on a recent fall family camping trip as the children adventured independently, and I unplugged in nature.

“Thoughtful reflection is constantly sabotaged by the intrusion of cell phones, pagers and e-mail messages,” so I need to be vigilant in the use of technology (40).

As I took my mini adventures alone, in the quiet of nature, I encountered the love of God bubbling up from within with surprising joy!

My rule of life, a working document that “provides structure and space for our growing” (Barton 20), reflects my longing for more silence and solitude.

This intentionality invites the Holy Spirit to fuel my ministry of home-educating my children, leading worship, writing for seminary and on my blog, and building intentional relationships in my community.

In Radical Spirit (2017), Joan Chittister highlights silence as the ninth step of humility, which supports growing as a listener.

She says,

“We forget that the spiritual life, the reflective life, starts in silence and grows in silence and comes to fullness in the self that listens to silence” (208).

This space is foundational for the natural progression to other spiritual practices that help us encounter the Holy Spirit's love and leading.

More than anything, it reminds me of my identity, a child on an adventure with my creator!

Like the set-apart lives of biblical heroes, monastics, and the many dancing this soulful rhythm today, I do not want to engage in our culture's raucous jig.

Barton confirms that our resistance to the rat race begins here:

"Solitude is an opportunity to interrupt the cycle by turning off the noise and stimulation of our lives” so we can hear the cries in our hearts (41).

Along with biblical characters and faithful followers throughout history, I am grateful to inspire others to bravely choose to "Be still and know…" (Psalm 46:10a).

Bibliography:

Barton, Ruth Haley. Sacred Rhythms: Arranging Our Lives for Spiritual Transformation. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Books, 2006.

Chittister, Joan. Radical Spirit: 12 Ways to Live a Free and Authentic Life. New York, NY: Convergent Books, 2017.

Comer, John Mark. The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry: How to Stay Emotionally Healthy and Spiritually Alive in This Modern World. Chicago: InterVarsity Press, 2019.

Lyons, Rebekah. Rhythms of Renewal: Trading Stress and Anxiety for a Life of Peace and Purpose. Nashville: Zondervan. 2019.

Macchia, Stephen. Crafting a Rule of Life: An Invitation to the Well-Ordered Way. Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 2012.

** Scripture references are from the NIV translation.

How are you practicing

silence, solitude and stillness?

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