Silencio

Brian – The Christian Science Journal, Oct. 2008

Last January I arrived in Guadalajara, Mexico–a lively, bustling city of four million inhabitants where city buses scream down the streets and mariachi music floats through the night air. Where silence is precious.

However, one night after teaching an English class, my friend Lourdes asked me if I would like to accompany her to a church of her faith across the street from the school. Toward the end of the service, she whispered to me that afterward she would like to pray. So I joined her as she knelt in the pew. I felt the door close on the world’s busyness. I’d experienced this peace before during moments of prayer, when we pull the plug, so to speak, on the physical senses and mentally silence them so we can turn wholeheartedly to God and be in tune with the spiritual senses.

After a couple of minutes, I peeked at Lourdes, who was still motionless and deep in thought. After ten minutes, I became a little restless and, still kneeling, began shifting back and forth on the knee rest. As I closed my eyes again and tried to enter what Mary Baker Eddy called our “closet”—”. . . the sanctuary of Spirit, the door of which shuts out sinful sense but lets in Truth, Life, and Love” (Science and Health, p. 15), I thought about the many activities I had done that day. And now, here I was, 15 minutes after the church service, itching to move on to something else.

My mom always tells me, “Brian, you are a doer!” I’ve always tended to think that the more activities I can jam into one day, the more successful I am. But at times, I’m completely exhausted by the end of the day, wondering why my plethora of daily activities has left me hungry, as though I had eaten an entire smorgasbord of delicious food at a buffet, yet left the restaurant unsatisfied.

Then it hit me: The number of tasks I accomplish between waking up and going to bed does not define me or make me a successful person. If I want to grow in my service to God and humanity—and be a healer—I need the combination of human affection and the spiritual understanding that comes from solid prayer and spiritual study. Being a good human being and doing good works would only get me so far. Suddenly, I felt a calming presence still my eager-to-get-moving thoughts. And I thanked God for His guiding presence in my life. Then the woman who closed the church began turning the lights off. My friend nudged me and said it was time to go.

As I walked back to my apartment, it was as if I didn’t hear a sound, because my thoughts were still reveling in the power of prayer and the message God had given me to stop judging myself by how much I did. I remembered the first commandment, “Thou shalt have no other gods before me” (Ex. 20:3), and I realized that I’d been unconsciously making a god out of human busyness—valuing my activities over moments of communion with God.

During the next few days, I began replacing some of the time I usually spent with friends with time in prayer. The Bible explains that Jesus would sometimes physically separate himself from people to be alone so he could commune with his divine Father. And Mary Baker Eddy wrote of her own worship, “Three times a day, I retire to seek the divine blessing on the sick and sorrowing, with my face toward the Jerusalem of Love and Truth, in silent prayer to the Father which ‘seeth in secret,’ and with childlike confidence that He will reward ‘openly’ ” (Miscellaneous Writings 1883–1896, p. 133).

Over the next weeks as I spent more time in prayer, life began to feel simpler—and I felt more useful. I saw proof of this in my everyday life. One day a good friend who had been smoking for many years commented that she didn’t feel the need to smoke when she was around me. She said that the joy I expressed when I was with her helped her see that happiness did not come through smoking a cigarette. Her words encouraged me to continue starting my day by claiming qualities such as peace, strength, humility, and joy as part of my true nature, and of everyone else’s. I took her comment not as a pat on the back, but rather it signified that the quiet time I spent each morning claiming my identity as the reflection of divine Love, was enabling me to be a better windowpane through which Love’s qualities can shine. Each morning after time devoted to consecrated prayer, I felt like I was carrying a huge bucket of spiritual inspiration to nourish whomever I would interact with that day. I realized that my old approach of scurrying from one activity to the next was a little like carrying around a little eight-ounce cup.

At times, I was tempted to think that devoting more time to prayer meant I was losing out on other good activities, or perhaps that it was selfish to spend time praying for myself—that it wouldn’t benefit anyone but me. But I am realizing that praying for myself is not selfish, but completely unselfish. I won’t be ready to heal or have the spiritual sharpness I need to heal effectively unless I first understand God and my spiritual nature. Mary Baker Eddy wrote, “The Christian Scientist loves man more because he loves God most” (Miscellaneous Writings 1883–1896, p. 100).

Today my days are not necessarily filled with a greater number of activities, but they are of a higher quality. The desire to witness God’s goodness is the driving force of every activity I do. At the end of the day, these activities no longer form a checklist of “missions accomplished,” but they show me all the opportunities I’ve had to express the qualities of the Creator.

I still enjoy walking through the bustling markets of downtown Guadalajara, the 5:15 a.m. bus rides with blaring Spanish music, and sharing a good laugh with friends. But I set aside time each morning in my apartment for prayer. This quiet time always gives purpose to my day. I also look forward to the silent prayer at the weekly services I attend at First Church of Christ, Scientist. And every few days I stop by one of the massive cathedrals all over the downtown area of the city. I am encouraged by the presence of dozens of others who fill the pews to take time out of their busy days to close the doors on the noise around them and pray. Just recently I was able to return to a church service with Lourdes.

Throughout the service, I found myself eagerly anticipating the 15 minutes we would spend afterward in silent prayer.