What Makes Silence Grand

A version of this post first appeared in Light Reading, our weekly email newsletter. If you would like to receive messages like this every Sunday, please send an email to info@christinst.org.

There are many words one could associate with silence—quiet, calm, relaxed, restrained, even humble—but “grand” might not spring to mind as a synonym. In fact, “grand” might be the opposite of silence. Grand is not calm or restrained, but instead expansive, ornate, baroque and expressive. Silence does not seek attention, while grand practically cries for it.

However, by understanding the inherent spirituality of certain actions one begins to see aspects hidden within them. Accordingly, examining silence with spiritual consideration reveals its grandeur. The simplicity of silence is deceptive, because that simplicity allows silence to expand into a variety of spaces and purposes. Silence can be utilized in fields like teaching, business and family matters—where it gives us an enlightening space to listen and encourage communication—as well as a means to foster human wellness—where it gives us a nourishing space to relax and heal. The number of places silence can contribute to our lives is astounding, but we don't always like to utilize silence. Doing so means we don't get to control the conversation, give people a piece of our minds, or change the subject if we get frustrated or bored. But acting like that is no way to learn, to hear, understand or experience something new.

When we are silent, we open a space where we allow that expansion to happen. When we are silent, we make room for healing, reconciliation and progress. That's because silence, especially when it's practiced as a part of our spirituality, is actually active. Silence is an internal, metaphysical space where we learn, grow and prepare. Silence is invisible, but it is not passive; it is alive, a proving ground for unfoldment and self-mastery.

In a way, that apparent contradiction between silence and action is resolved in the story of Lazarus from the Gospel of John. Although those around Jesus thought Lazarus would die, Jesus explained that Lazarus' illness would not lead to death. But his illness appeared to do exactly that; Lazarus died and his body lay in a tomb for four days. However, the silence of the tomb was simply preparatory. Lazarus was resurrected, spiritually reinvigorated, in an action that revealed the glory of God. The silence of the tomb was fittingly broken by the loud voice of Christ, and death was revealed to be nothing more than an illusion. It is the same way silence quietly prepares us for truth, assuming we are willing to still ourselves and listen.

Silence asks little from us—a space of temperance, prudence and awareness—but it rewards us with depths. That is why silence is grand. Anyone who has stepped into a quiet sacred space, whether it's the echoing nave of a massive cathedral or the dark chapel of a humble mission, has had a chance to experience that. In any space where we find spiritual silence, time retreats, the apparent world fades away and we enter the inner sanctum of the self. That's when we realize silence isn't passive or empty, but active and spilling over with divine presence, clarity, understanding, purpose, direction and the truest understanding of ourselves we can imagine.

As we consider how much silence can benefit us compared to how simple it is, we further realize that silence is a blessing. It is a space singular in creation to know ourselves in earnest, to know reality in full and to know our Creator in truth. That knowledge combined drives us forward into eternity, into our highest selves.

Let us pray:

Dear God,
Thank You for the gift of silence.
Thank You for that which comes flooding in
When we quiet ourselves:
Peace and focus;
Insight and wisdom;
Truth and creativity;
Oneness and Divine Presence;
Renewal and higher self.
Thank You for each of those gifts;
Thank You for the grandeur of silence.
Amen.

“Silence is power. In its period we experience harmony, equilibrium, self-mastery and cosmic consciousness. During its hour we become aware of the allness of life, of one God, one spirit, one soul, one reality of being. We are blessed with the light of Universal Mind, the miracle of illumination. During deep and meditative silence, the spiritual elements of our being are quickened and liberated and we are transformed to the All-pervading Self.” - Hanna Jacob Doumette, “The Grandeur of Silence”

What is a Miracle?

A version of this post first appeared in Light Reading, our weekly email newsletter. If you would like to receive messages like this every Sunday, please send an email to info@ChristInst.org.

What is a miracle? No matter how you define it, the word carries a certain weight. Obviously there is a spiritual definition. Miracles are astounding circumstances we attribute to God. They are sacred, supernatural, divine in origin and purpose. At the same time, a miracle can mean something amazing whose origin appears completely natural or even human: a miracle drug, a miracle of science, a miracle worker. Interestingly, the twin meanings of miracle—both its divine and a secular connotation—have never been far apart. In English, the divine connotation exists by the 12th century, and the secular connotation follows it in the 13th century.

Hanna Jacob Doumette, the founder of The Christian Institute, recognized that dichotomy as a false one. He said: “There is no difference between a miraculous and a natural occurrence except in man's understanding. A miracle is an occurrence not understood by the mind. What is open to our intellectual and logical understanding, we accept as natural and normal.”

In other words, miracles are things that appear to be impossible from a particular vantage point. For example, the abilities of living things to elemental things would be miraculous. If a rock could perceive the growth of plants or the movement of animals, it would seem to be a miracle, something completely outside its own abilities and understanding of what it means to exist. In the same way, some aspects of humanity—the complexity of our cities, our ability to manipulate elements, our capacities for innovation, war and abstract thought—must seem miraculous to plants and animals.

It's no different from how the expanse of the cosmos or nature as a complete organism appears miraculous to us. Explaining a miracle should not diminish it but rather simply illustrate how much more there is to reality than we initially see. There is always something beyond ourselves, and that is the realm of miracles. It is the space where we release ourselves to what is rather than what we want to be.

It follows that the greatest miracles for us as individuals are the times when we jump from one level of consciousness to another. We see that illustrated multiple times in the Gospels. For example, the Gospel of John reports a man who was blind from birth, but Jesus made him able to see. Physically speaking his eyes were healed, but spiritually speaking his inner vision was awakened. Before he had experienced only darkness; after the miracle, he recognized he had been surrounded by light. It was that jump—from blindness to expanded perception—that was the miracle.

Earlier in the same Gospel, Jesus healed a man who had been paralyzed for much of his life. Physically speaking his legs were restored, but spiritually speaking he could move through life in a new way. His very reality was regenerated, and his relationship with destiny was clarified, quickened and forever changed. He leaped from one level of being to the next.

In each case, vital elements of both men's identities were awakened and utilized as they came to know their true selves. Consciousness expanded. Purpose was realized. The lower self more clearly saw and took steps toward the higher self, which is the indwelling Christ. That is a miracle we work toward through our own everyday imitation of Christ, no matter what we choose to call it.

Miracles are things that only appear to be impossible, beyond understanding or out of reach. Forgiveness seems like a miracle to the stubborn and stagnant in mind; faith and prayer seem like miracles to those who aren't in touch with Divinity; that anyone would be kind is a miracle to the selfish; prudence is a miracle to the shortsighted; knowledge is a miracle to the ignorant; truth is a miracle to the cynic. As spiritual people, we know those miracles are waiting for us to realize as we unfold, expand and embrace our higher selves.

Perhaps the best definition of a miracle is it's a space where we allow ourselves a bit of compassion. If we don't try to discredit or diminish a miracle, if we simply recognize it as a good thing, then we have approached it without judgment. We see it for the positiveness it brings, whether that's a fantastic healing, an expanded sense of self, insight into the workings of the world or simply the joy at knowing something remarkable occurred. And as soon as we perceive that, we start to live in a world where miracles happen.

We can always try to understand more about how a particular event occurs, of course, but doing so does not diminish the presence of God within all things. Now can be a time of miracles. We simply have to let them be.

Let us pray:

Dear God,
Thank You for everyday miracles.
Thank You for the moments when things become clear;
Thank You for the times when our steps quicken;
Thank You for the love and support of our neighbors;
Thank You that there is always more to learn, to see and to become.
Thank You for giving us a world where such things can be.
Amen.

“Life is full of miracles as much as its kingdom is full of natural creation. The line of demarcation between miracles and natural functioning disappears under the rays of universal intelligence, understanding and reasoning. The power of faith is miraculous; so is the power of the prayer. The might of love is miraculous; so is the power of kindness. The power of goodness is miraculous; so is the power of forgiveness.” - Hanna Jacob Doumette, “The Miracles of Life”