I was in the toy department, looking for a birthday gift, when I accidentally brushed against a shelf — and the robotic voices of action figures began yapping at me.
On the drive home, I selected a country music station, but turned it off when advertisers yammered about pain relief and weight loss.
Back at home, I brewed a cup of tea, opened the front door — and drank in the delicious silence. Until, that is, a leaf blower began growling and a lawn mower rumbling — and peace vanished.
Inside many homes, the TV set holds court, with news figures and weather gurus spinning out political intrigues and natural disasters for hours on end.
In grocery stores, elevators and medical offices, silence is obliterated with an endless loop of canned music.
There are also folks who talk nonstop, because the thought of a conversational pause evidently terrifies them.
And then we ask, “Where is God? Why does he feel so far away?”
Perhaps the answer is we’re so busy texting, tweeting and talking, we’ve pushed him out of hearing distance. After all, the Bible tells us we meet divinity in silence: “Be still and know that I am God.”
During this season of summer getaways, when families head to the seashore and the mountains — seeking a change from everyday routines — we can also take a vacation from noise each day.
After all, when our minds are crammed with blaring music, chattering TVs and the cacophony of machinery, how can we feel God’s gentle promptings?
Maybe he’s calling us to visit a neighbor, telephone an ailing relative or pray for a sick child.
Jesus said, “When you pray, go into your room and shut the door, and pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.”
Shutting the door can mean silencing our phones, turning off beepers, televisions and radios — and spending time alone with God.
In “No Greater Love,” Mother Teresa wrote, “Jesus taught us how to pray and he also told us to learn from Him how to be meek and humble of heart.”
We can’t do this, she adds, “unless we know what silence is.”
She and her religious order, the Missionaries of Charity, put that principle into practice by praying silently before the Blessed Sacrament for an hour every day.
In “The Power of Silence,” a wonderful book, Cardinal Robert Sarah notes that our bodies work quietly: “Our blood flows through our veins without making any noise, and we can hear our heartbeats only in silence.”
Jesus spent 40 days alone in the desert — and he prayed in the garden alone before his death.
When he stood before Pilate, he remained silent in the face of questioning — but when he carried the cross, the crowds followed, taunting him and yelling.
Following in his path, some people go on retreats at monasteries, while others create their own monastic spaces.
A porch, a hammock in a shady spot or a secluded park can become monastic enclosures, where we can tune out the world.
And once the clatter and chatter ceases, we can detect the gentle sounds the world obscures. “In the silence of the heart, God speaks,” said Mother Teresa.
In our vacation from noise, we meet the one residing in the secret recesses of our souls — waiting to get a word in edgewise.
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