Asceticism

January 14, 2020 By Sam Guzman 1 Comment

On the Necessity of Struggle

Yesterday, I began the spiritual exercise Exodus 90 with a cohort of local men. There’s quite a few disciplines involved, such as extra prayers, intense physical exercise, fasting, and cold showers to name a few. It isn’t easy—but in the big picture of human suffering, most of the sacrifices required are relatively small.

Exodus 90 disciplines aren’t going to kill anyone, and yet, they still sting. They reveal how soft and complacent most of our lives really are. We surround ourselves with dozens of creature comforts that help us cope with the stresses and challenges of life. Social media, eating, Netflix, music, and a host of other diversions serve as buffers between us and any form of suffering—or even discomfort.

Most of these things are harmless in and of themselves. But we come to depend on them; need them, even. And this subtle reliance is insidious because we don’t even notice it is happening until our comforts are taken away.

These pleasures can numb us and drain our vital energy, lulling us into a complacent stupor. We never do anything really bad, but then again, we never do anything heroically good either. For all practical purposes, we have been neutralized in the great spiritual battle in which we are engaged. And the enemy of our souls laughs at our weakness.

Struggle to Enter the Narrow Gate

Properly understood, spiritual disciplines like fasting and self-denial strip away our crutches of comfort. They wake us up to the reality of our love of the world and drive us back to prayer and reliance on God. They are salutary forms of suffering that place us in contact with what is essential.

Asceticism is not optional to the spiritual life. The idea that it is optional is a lie of the devil. The Master says in the Gospel of Luke that we are strive and struggle to enter through the narrow gate . The way to destruction is broad and easy, much like modern American life. After all, does not our consumeristic promise a paradise of material goods and endless diversions? Is this not the dream promised in every advertisement?

But the way to heaven and the kingdom of God requires struggle. It is not optional. “Where there is no prayer and fasting, there are the demons,” said St. Theophan the Recluse.

This is not to deny the grace of God in any way. But our Lord wants us to grow more than he wants us to be comfortable. And it is a spiritual law that the maturity of the human soul can only come through suffering and sacrifice. We avoid these things with all our strength most of the time, and yet they are the very things that deepen and strengthen us. And this is what God wants.

Yes, struggle is necessary, for lukewarmness slowly poisons us and renders us useless. One of the most damning indictments in scripture are the words of Christ to the Church of Laodicea:

I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew you out of my mouth.For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing; not knowing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.(Revelation 3:5-17)

Let us so live that this never be said of us. Examine yourself. Have you been lulled to sleep by the pleasures and comforts of the world? Have you surrendered to the spirit of complacency? Is comfort an idol that you preserve at all costs?

These are dangers that threaten everyone living today. And they are all the more perilous because of their silent subtlety. There is only one way to avoid them, and the Master makes it known to us:

And he said to all, If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.

July 6, 2018 By Philip Kosloski 3 Comments

How Irish Monks Saved the World (From the Dark Side)

Modern historian and commentator Kenneth Clark said in his popular BBC show Civilization, “Western Christianity survived by clinging to places like Skellig Michael, a pinnacle of rock [seven] miles from the Irish coast, rising seven hundred feet out of the sea.” It’s an intriguing claim, crediting the solitary monastery on Skellig Michael with a role in the survival of Western Christianity.

Author Thomas Cahill broadens the connection to not only include Western Christianity, but “civilization” in his book “How the Irish Saved Civilization: The Untold Story of Ireland’s Heroic Role from the Fall of Rome to the Rise of Medieval Europe.”

How is it possible that a small monastic community at the edge of the world could have such a large impact in world affairs?

Over a thousand years ago there lived a group of warrior-monks on an island seven miles off the coast of Ireland called “Skellig Michael” (an island recently made famous by Star Wars: The Last Jedi). They were almost entirely cut off from the world and were (voluntarily) stranded on an island that was relatively small and treacherous to live on.

It was a difficult life, but one they believed would bear much fruit.

Green Martyrdom

Along with a desire to go into the “desert” and contemplate God, the monks of Ireland held on to the concept of a “green martyrdom.” The Catholic Church has always taught about the possibility of a “red martyrdom,” where one imitates Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross by dying for the sake of the Gospel. Additionally, there was the belief that if a person wasn’t called to a red martyrdom, they could participate in the same sacrifice with a “white martyrdom,” where someone might endure ridicule for belief in the Gospel, but not suffer death.

Early on, especially in Ireland, there developed a third martyrdom called a, “green martyrdom.” An ancient Irish homily, written around the end of the seventh century, gives a perfect summary of this type of martyrdom.

“Now there are three kinds of martyrdom, which are accounted as a cross to a man, to wit: white martyrdom, green and red martyrdom. White martyrdom consists in a man’s abandoning everything he loves for God’s sake, though he suffer fasting or labor thereat. Green martyrdom consists in this, that by means of fasting and labor he frees himself from his evil desires, or suffers toil in penance and repentance.”

The Irish took hold of this type of martyrdom and, not surprisingly, sought out remote “green” places to live out this green martyrdom. They wanted to be as severe as they could in fasting and penance, and so they preferred the harshest and remote places possible.

Spiritual Warriors

The monks journeyed to Skellig Michael with full knowledge that for the rest of their lives, they would be battling against the “Dark Side” of this world. They knew it would not be an easy fight and freely chose a life of self-denial, so they could defeat the power of Satan and clear the path to Eternal Life.

These monks saw themselves as great spiritual warriors engaged in an epic battle against Satan and so they named the island (and church on it) after St. Michael the Archangel, the commander of the heavenly armies.

Preservation of Culture

Besides leading a life of prayer and self-denial, the monks on this remote island sought to preserve culture at a time when Europe was in chaos. The barbarian tribes had won the day and the glories of Rome ceased to exist. These new leaders were not fond of Roman ways and sought to destroy anything associated the classical world.

The classical way of education in particular was almost obliterated and those in Western Europe were more concerned about survival than enriching a flourishing culture.

Except in Ireland.

The Irish monks were masters of Latin and Greek culture and maintained it through the copying of manuscripts and the passing on of knowledge in various monastic schools throughout Ireland.

It is in this context that the monastery at Skellig Michael was born, a “Golden Age” of Irish monasticism, where faith and culture was preserved for generations to come.

How can we fight?

What can we do to fight back against our own “dark age”? The monks on Skellig Michael point us in the right direction. We must discover ways in our own lives to practice self-denial, pray “without ceasing,” and wield the “sword of the spirit” boldly. We must find our own “green martyrdom,” and seek it out for the benefit of our eternal soul and the world around us.

We must also seek to preserve Christian culture, recognizing what is true, good and beautiful, creating beautiful stories that remind us of our eternal destiny of Heaven.

This is one of the reasons why I, on a personal level, have embarked on my own journey of preserving the story and legends of these ancient monks and have chosen to communicate that in a new comic book entitled, Finnian and the Seven Mountains. They led inspiring lives and with this comic book series their story has a potential to reach new audiences, especially young people who are fascinated by comic books, graphic novels and superheroes, giving them a positive story the embraces the traditions of the past and teaches them to seek God’s will above all tings.

The spiritual legacy of the monks of Skellig Michael endures to this day. Let us take it up and continue it, going to the source of their strength, so that we might be able to inspire others by being a light, a city set on a skellig (mountain) for all to see.

Download a FREE preview of “Finnian and the Seven Mountains” by visiting: www.finniancomics.com.

—

Philip Kosloski is a comic book creator and spirituality writer. He connects Christians to the past through traditional devotions and engaging stories so they can live with a deeper sense of purpose in the modern world. He blogs at http://www.philipkosloski.com

May 10, 2018 By Sam Guzman 10 Comments

7 Lessons in Evangelization from Jordan Peterson

Recently, an unlikely thinker has exploded on the world stage. His name is Jordan Peterson. A Canadian clinical psychologist and professor, he is an unlikely candidate for a global intellectual superstar. Yet, his YouTube channel has over a million subscribers, his recent book has risen to a global bestseller, and his current lecture tour is selling out theaters and auditoriums around the world.

I have followed the Peterson phenomenon with great interest for several reasons. First, because Peterson is doing our post-modern, post-rational world a great service. He is ably and coherently defending our Western Christian heritage when so little are unwilling or unable to do so. Second, he’s courageously confronting the madness of irrational, post-modern identity politics with what can only be described an innovative approach combining psychology, natural science, symbol, and myth. And third, because he is incredibly effective. Countless young men, formerly rudderless nihilists and atheists, give testimony (often tearfully) to transformative experiences leading to faith and purpose while listening to his lectures.

Now, Jordan Peterson is by no means an orthodox Catholic, and as with any thinker old or new, he should not be read with an uncritical eye. Nevertheless, I believe his meteoric rise speaks to a deep need spiritually and intellectually in our culture that hitherto has been addressed inadequately. I believe anyone who desires to effectively bear witness to the faith can learn from Jordan Peterson’s approach. Here are seven lessons in evangelization that we can learn from his cultural rise.

1. Tell Stories

Jordan Peterson leads with stories, with narratives, and they are above all biblical narratives. Of course, he is a scientist, and all his claims drawn from these stories are backed up in great detail by scientific and psychological insights. But he never leads with neutral facts (as if there were such a thing). He tells stories because he knows that human beings see the world in a narrative format. We see reality as a forum for action, as he puts it, and not as a collection of neutral objects.

At one time, catechesis and formation in the Church were largely narrative in nature. Pictures of biblical stories lined the walls of our churches and cathedrals, and the lives and legends of the saints provided practical guidance on how to live for even the simplest peasants. But recently, our apologetics and catechesis have taken a intellectualized bent, focusing on rational arguments and logical proofs to the neglect of stories.

The problem is, our culture is burned out on mere rationalism. Strict rationality, severed from mystery and story, is the path to insanity. More than anything we are hungry for meaning and a story in which we can play apart. Young men today don’t want more syllogisms as much as they want a call to be actors in a grand, unfolding narrative. As Catholics, we should learn again the power of story, for it can compel and move hearts far more effectively than arguments alone (just ask Tolkien).

2. Teach Rules

For at least the past 60 years, the Church has engaged in a campaign to strip the rules of the faith to the bare minimum. Required fasting has been all but eliminated from Catholic life. Meatless Fridays have been declared optional for most of the year. Holy days of obligation that fall too close to the weekend are transferred to Sunday. The Eucharistic fast has been reduced to a paltry one hour. Other than survival in some stricter religious orders, Catholic asceticism has been nearly annihilated. No demands are made of us, and we are worse for it.

In a milieu where rules are abhorred, Jordan Peterson has written an international best-selling book called “12 Rules for Life.” Far from being impediments to freedom or happiness, Peterson argues that rules are necessary for human flourishing, and he offers 12 of his own distilled from life experience, psychological insights, and the wisdom of Western civilization. This book has sold at least a million copies internationally, and its popularity shows no sign of slowing down.

Rules are not wrong. To paraphrase Chesterton, the rules of the Church, dogmatic or merely practical, serve as walls of a playground. Yes, they can feel limiting at times, but they are really ordered towards our growth, development, and ultimate happiness. Instead of apologizing for and abolishing her rules, the Church should learn again to demand something of us. We might be surprised at the response.

3. Call People to Carry the Cross

Catholics are no stranger to the idea of suffering as a means of sanctification and salvation. Our saints, popes, and doctors write constantly about the redemptive power of suffering, the call to carry the cross, and the need to sacrifice for the salvation of the world. One of our most famous books is called The Imitation of Christ, which calls us to strive manfully for virtue by embracing “the royal way of the cross.”

Yet, the message of the cross is not popular in a secularized world, and many Catholics are embarrassed by this emphasis in Church teaching, toning it down or ignoring it altogether in a misguided attempt to win converts. Yet, paradoxically, toning down the call to carry the cross is exactly the wrong thing to do, and it always leads to an impotent faith.

The cross is central to Jordan Peterson’s worldview. He teaches frequently that life contains unavoidable suffering, and embracing this suffering courageously is the path to self-transcendence. Moreover, he believes the only faith worth anything is a faith that is lived. And strangely enough, his message is exactly what a world of coddled men and women (but especially men) need and want to hear. The Church should learn from this, renewing her call to conversion, penance, sacrifice, and suffering willingly born in union with Christ.

4. Choose Confrontation, not Accommodation

There was once a time when the Catholic Church was notorious for confronting the false ideologies of the world fearlessly. Popes contended vigorously with errant philosophies, heresies, and even political and economic systems. She was truly a Church militant.

Following the Second Vatican Council, however, all that changed, and the Church chose the path of accommodation instead of confrontation. She sought, wherever possible, to affirm and make peace with the world. And for the most part, her cultural influence was neutralized.

Jordan Peterson is not afraid of confrontation. A great deal of his rise to fame was due to his vociferous condemnation of Canada’s proposed laws that would impose new codes of speech friendly to radical transgender activists. Rather than capitulate, Peterson boldly said he would never comply with such insanity. And many rallied around him because of it.

If the Church once again began to confront the world, the flesh, and the devil, and declare the truth boldly, she would make many enemies. But she would also be a beacon of hope and light around which many hungry for truth and clear guidance would rally.

5. Use Symbols and Artistic Beauty to Communicate

One of Jordan Peterson’s more famous videos is called “Why You Need Art in Your Life” (a lecture famously watched by rapper Kanye West). An excerpt from his biblical lectures, the video powerfully communicates the necessity of beauty in incarnating transcendence. Moreover, nearly every lecture he gives includes an explanation of a symbol from a world religion, a piece of art, or a great piece of literature. Peterson recognizes that symbols, whether literary or visual, have a powerful ability to communicate truth.

Fortunately, Catholics have not ignored beauty entirely. Leaders in the Church like Bishop Robert Barron have frequently called for a renewal of creativity and beauty both as a means of evangelization and the sanctification of the faithful. Pope Benedict XVI also taught frequently on the power of beauty both liturgically and artistically.

Despite this profound teaching and a vast history of glorious art and architecture, far too many Catholic priests and laity seem to think that beauty is something superfluous. It’s nice, we think, but ultimately unnecessary. This is simply wrong. If we are ever to effectively evangelize our culture, we need to rediscover the power of beauty and begin once again to create it, for it is a reflection of the Divine.

6. Integrate science

As I mentioned earlier, Peterson leads with stories, but he also backs up his philosophical insights with compelling scientific evidence. He is a master at synthesizing transcendent truths with insights from psychology and the natural sciences, showing their intrinsic harmony.

While the Church is by no means opposed to science—and indeed historically has been one of the greatest sponsors of scientific research—far too often faith and science are segregated into two realms during the practical teaching of the faith. It seems there is a fear that if science is used too much in evangelization or catechesis, it will threaten the divinely revealed truths of the faith. But of course this is not true.

Rather than segregate the natural and the supernatural (which concedes ground to radical atheists who claims the Church is anti-science), the Church would do well to show how scientific insights from disciplines as varied as neuroscience or even physics confirm what the Church has taught all along. Doing so would be a compelling demonstration of the harmony between faith and reason.

7. Speak with Passion

In most talks on evangelization I have heard, the focus is usually on joy. And joy is indeed an important witness to the truth of the Gospel. But far too often, joy is associated with big smiles, boisterous laughter, and extroversion.

Interestingly, Jordan Peterson exhibits none of those traits. He has admittedly struggled with depression and physical health problems. He communicates with solemnity and gravity. Though he clearly speaks from a deep reservoir of emotion, he almost never smiles or laughs. Nevertheless, he is captivating and persuasive because he speaks with deep passion about his ideas. Listening to him, you can tell that he not only lives by what he says, but he would willingly suffer for the ideas he is communicating. In a world where intellectual cowardice reigns, and believing anything dogmatically is a sin, such confident zeal is a powerful sign of contradiction.

If we are to be effective evangelists, we must believe in what we say and communicate it with passion. Catholicism isn’t simply one idea among many—we must confidently believe in it to the point that we are willing to suffer and die for it if necessary. Martyr means witness, and the martyrs are the ultimate evangelists (they are the seed of the Church) because they witness to the reality of Christ with suffering and blood. We must have this kind of faith, and even if we are not called to lay down our lives for Christ, we must be willing to or our evangelism will ring hollow.

An Imperfect Witness

Jordan Peterson is not perfect, nor is he some sort of secular Messiah as some have portrayed him. Nonetheless, he is a powerful communicator ably defending our Western heritage and effectively challenging many to carry the cross, pursue virtue, and seek transcendent truth. His success is not random, but rather reveals a great hunger in the world for higher meaning and purpose. As Catholics, we can learn from his success, applying the lessons in our own cultural engagements.

September 12, 2016 By Sam Guzman 7 Comments

Knowing and Doing

There are different kinds of knowledge. There is the abstract knowledge of facts and ideas, and then there’s the knowledge that comes from experience.

While both forms of knowledge are legitimate, there is little doubt that the knowledge from lived experience is deeper and more profound.

Take for example the learning of a martial art. One can study the different kicks, punches, and throws of the art in a book or through images. All of this knowledge can be gained from the comfort of an armchair. Yet, no matter how thoroughly these moves are mastered intellectually, this knowledge is fundamentally different and more shallow than that gained through the sweat and pain of actual practice.

We’d laugh at a self-professed “black belt” whose knowledge of karate came only from library books, who’d never sparred even once. Such a claim of knowledge would be delusional on a grand scale.

To really know a thing, we must put it into practice.

Just Do It

So it is in the spiritual life. The only knowledge that really matters is the knowing that comes from doing. But it’s the doing that’s much harder than the facts.

I know this from experience. I collect and read books about prayer and asceticism. I pour over them until I am positively aglow with knowledge. “What great advice,” I think. “What a nugget of wisdom! This is the way to heaven!” And the more I read, the more spiritual facts fill my head. The more spiritual facts that fill my head, the more I fancy myself a knowledgeable and devout Catholic.

But the painful question, the question I shudder to face, is this: How much do I practice prayer or asceticism? If I am honest, the only answer is not nearly as much as I read about them. My knowledge of these disciplines remains largely theoretical, shallow, and abstract.

Avoiding Delusion

This equation of knowledge with piety is a mistake. It is the same delusion as the pretend karate master.

So how do we avoid delusion? “Be doers of the word,” exhorts St. James, “and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves.”

St. Francis de Sales echoes this counsel: “You learn to speak by speaking, to study by studying, to run by running, to work by working, and just so, you learn to love by loving. All those who think to learn in any other way deceive themselves.”

The only way to avoid this delusion is to continually practice what we know. Doing so may result in failure, missteps, discouragement, and trials. It is certainly always safer to dwell in the realm of theory. But practice, with all its risks, is the only real way to be a Christian.

Hearing and Keeping

I am convinced there will be many in the kingdom of God who lacked the formal knowledge of books and catechisms, but who kept the commandments and loved God and their neighbor. I also believe there are many who possess great theological knowledge and who are considered spiritual masters, but who fail to reach the kingdom because they never progress beyond the realm of theory.

Christianity is not a formula to be believed. It is a way of life to be lived. It is not an intellectual castle in the clouds. It is inextricably linked to the choices we make every day, to the messiness of ordinary life. The Gospel makes it clear that the entrance exam to heaven will not be a theological quiz, but a test of works. We will give account not for what we knew, but rather what we did.

“Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!”

July 14, 2016 By Sam Guzman 22 Comments

The Practice of Silence for Lay People

Silence. It’s a word that is both appealing and terrifying. It is a word that can either connote peace and calm, or frightening isolation.

While some might find the idea of silence appealing, the truth is, most of us don’t do well with perfect quiet. Have you ever sat alone in a room, only to hear sounds you had never noticed before? The ticking of a clock. The whooshing of air moving through ducts. The hum of a refrigerator. A lawn mower running in the distance. It is all a bit unnerving.

But perhaps the thing we fear most about silence is being alone with our own thoughts. When confronted with true quiet, we begin to hear the mad and chaotic rush of thoughts filling our minds. The anxieties, the deep longings, the painful questions all seem to come bubbling to the surface of our consciousness—and it makes us uncomfortable.

We fear this confrontation with our innermost selves, the struggle with the complexity of our hearts. So our natural tendency is to drown out silence with constant noise. In the car alone, we turn on the radio. At home, TVs run constantly, not so that we can watch them, but for a comforting “background noise.” A spare moment in line is filled with compulsive checking of our smartphones. Anything but silence.

Silence and the Saints

Yet, despite the disquieting nature of silence, countless saints have counseled it as a necessary and indispensable practice for growing in true holiness.

“In silence and quiet the devout soul advances in virtue and learns the hidden truths of Scripture,” says Thomas a Kempis. “Guard against much talking,” advises St. Dorotheus of Gaza, “for it puts to flight devout thoughts and recollection in God.” St. Maximilian Kolbe declares that, “Silence is necessary, and even absolutely necessary. If silence is lacking, then grace is lacking.” Many more examples could be given.

Through the centuries, many religious orders have put this advice into practice, with not a few prescribing silence to various degrees in their rules. Perhaps the most famous and strict of these orders is the Carthusians. Their disciplined quiet is so well known that a documentary film about them was entitled, “Into Great Silence.”

But why?

Without question, all the great saints, mystics, and spiritual masters prescribe silence as a sure means to holiness. But why? What’s so special about silence?

It is important to understand that silence, like all the tools of the spiritual life, is not an end in itself. It is a means—a method for coming to know Jesus Christ. Silence is necessary because our intellects are wounded and fractured by the Fall. Communion with God our Creator once came naturally and easily, much like seeing or hearing does now. We were constantly aware of His presence. But now, sin has disrupted this communion and damaged our ability to know God at the deepest level of our being.

Our fractured intellect, once perfectly in control, is now a chaotic storm of thoughts, feelings and emotions—like a restless cloud of gnats on a hot summer night. Calming this spiritual and emotional storm is incredibly difficult, and the only way to achieve it is to face it head on. This we can only do when we are quiet enough to hear just how chaotic our souls really are. Indeed, this can be frightening, and we’d rather not do it—but doing so is absolutely essential for spiritual progress.

Moreover, silence is necessary to hear the promptings of the Holy Spirit and to receive and preserve grace. God does not shout. He speaks quietly and softly, in a “still small voice” (1 Kings 19:11-12). The promptings of the Holy Spirit are never heard in busyness and anxious activity, but rather in stillness and quietness of heart.

Silence too helps us to preserve the graces that God sends to us. Scuba divers are careful and slow with their movements so as not to waste unnecessarily their precious reserves of oxygen. Likewise, holy souls speak speaking carefully and prudently to preserve their reservoir of grace.

How to Practice Silence

Now, you may be wondering how it would be possible for a layman with a job and perhaps a family to practice the virtue of silence. I know my wife would not appreciate it if I began gesturing to her with monastic hand signals rather than speaking! But while the practice of silence for a lay person might look different than for a monastic, it is still possible and even advisable. Here are some practical suggestions.

The first way to practice silence is to refrain from frivolous speech, realizing that “when words are many, transgression is not lacking” (Proverbs 10:19). That is, don’t speak for speaking’s sake. Social media especially encourages wasted speech. I’ve logged into Facebook to see people complaining about hangnails, discussing their digestive problems, or posting cryptic statements that beg for attention (“I really wonder if it’s worth it anymore,” and the like). If you’re tempted to engage in this kind of speech, don’t. Speak only when you have something worthwhile to say.

Second, silence can be practiced by restraining our tongues when we desire to complain. Complaining is the opposite of gratitude and thanksgiving, and it is actually a sin. It is so easy to complain about a meal, a rude person, or the weather. But does this contribute to anyone’s well being? Hold your tongue unless you have something praiseworthy to say.

Third, we can practice silence by refraining from sharing our opinion on every topic imaginable. Whenever a crisis emerges on the national or world stage, it seems that everyone everywhere immediately declares their infallible opinion on the matter. But the truth is, many of us don’t understand these events very well at all, and the world is not in need of more opinions. Keep your opinion to yourself and you will be considered the wiser for it.

Fourth, we can resist the urge to fill every spare moment with noise. If you are driving, try leaving the radio or music off. If you are home, leave the TV off. Avoid mindlessly checking your phone while in line or in spare moments. Life is full of moments where we can be silent. Embrace them.

Finally, we can keep silence when we desire to criticize others. How easy it is to notice the faults of others! And it is even easier to repeat these faults, true or not, to others, tearing people and harming their reputations if only to make ourselves feel better. To keep silence when we feel the urge to criticize is difficult, but it is also life-giving.

Conclusion

“The tongue is placed among our members as a world of iniquity,” says St. James. Words have power, though it be unseen, and what we say will echo in eternity. While we are not cloistered monks, we can learn to practice silence in the state to which God has called us, restraining our tongues wisely so we can hear the voice of Christ and come to know him better.