What is Silence & Solitude?
Silence and solitude is the intentional practice of removing yourself from noise, people, and stimulation. As Christians, we can use silence, not as a retreat from life, but actually as a return to it.
Dallas Willard defined silence simply as one of the disciplines of not. Meaning, the discipline of not talking, not consuming, not performing. You intentionally create space where there is nothing to do and no one to impress. That's it. And yet, in a world that constantly profits from your distraction and measures your worth by your productivity, doing nothing intentionally, has become a quietly radical act.
It’s easy to forget that spiritual transformation doesn't happen in loud places. In fact, it’s a process in and of itself that is fairly mundane, yet it beckons us to stillness. Most of us are running on fumes that we don't even realize we're burning. We move from notification to conversation to youtube to podcasts to family to netflix to sleep and back again. Repeat tomorrow. And somewhere in that loop, we've lost access to our own interior life, the place where God actually does most of his work. Willard called this the problem of the "outer life drowning the inner life." Which is a smart way of saying that we've become strangers to ourselves, and we've mistaken busyness for health.
Silence and solitude are the disciplines that interrupt that. Not by giving us answers, but by turning the world’s volume down long enough for us to hear the deep things within that we've been avoiding. Our own fear. Our own longing. Our own doubt. Our half-formed prayers that never quite made it to the surface. The transformation isn't dramatic at first. You mostly just discover how noisy your inner world is (which is disorienting). But that's the point. Think of it this way: how can you invite someone to renovate a house you've never actually walked through? Silence and solitude is how we walk through the house.
Dallas Willard defined silence simply as one of the disciplines of not. Meaning, the discipline of not talking, not consuming, not performing. You intentionally create space where there is nothing to do and no one to impress. That's it. And yet, in a world that constantly profits from your distraction and measures your worth by your productivity, doing nothing intentionally, has become a quietly radical act.
It’s easy to forget that spiritual transformation doesn't happen in loud places. In fact, it’s a process in and of itself that is fairly mundane, yet it beckons us to stillness. Most of us are running on fumes that we don't even realize we're burning. We move from notification to conversation to youtube to podcasts to family to netflix to sleep and back again. Repeat tomorrow. And somewhere in that loop, we've lost access to our own interior life, the place where God actually does most of his work. Willard called this the problem of the "outer life drowning the inner life." Which is a smart way of saying that we've become strangers to ourselves, and we've mistaken busyness for health.
Silence and solitude are the disciplines that interrupt that. Not by giving us answers, but by turning the world’s volume down long enough for us to hear the deep things within that we've been avoiding. Our own fear. Our own longing. Our own doubt. Our half-formed prayers that never quite made it to the surface. The transformation isn't dramatic at first. You mostly just discover how noisy your inner world is (which is disorienting). But that's the point. Think of it this way: how can you invite someone to renovate a house you've never actually walked through? Silence and solitude is how we walk through the house.
Where do we see it in Scripture?
You can't read the gospels carefully without noticing that Jesus was relentless about this. He retreated to the wilderness immediately after his baptism (Luke 4:1-2). Before he chose his twelve disciples, he spent an entire night alone on a mountain in prayer (Luke 6:12). After feeding five thousand people (one of his biggest moments of public ministry) he "dismissed the crowd and went up on a mountainside by himself to pray" (Matthew 14:23). He got up before dawn to find a solitary place (Mark 1:35). In almost every moment of public ministry in Jesus' life had a private one behind it.
This is not incidental. This is Jesus’ rhythm. Jesus understood that the life he was living publicly required a life being fed privately. What does that say about those of us who think we can go indefinitely without it? Within the Old Testament we even see examples of Godly people practicing silence and solitude such as: Moses meeting with God on Mount Sinai (Exodus 24); Elijah hearing God's whisper at Mount Horeb (1 Kings 19); and David regularly seeking God in solitude (Psalm 63).
This is not incidental. This is Jesus’ rhythm. Jesus understood that the life he was living publicly required a life being fed privately. What does that say about those of us who think we can go indefinitely without it? Within the Old Testament we even see examples of Godly people practicing silence and solitude such as: Moses meeting with God on Mount Sinai (Exodus 24); Elijah hearing God's whisper at Mount Horeb (1 Kings 19); and David regularly seeking God in solitude (Psalm 63).
How do I practice it?
1. “Start embarrassingly small"
Most people over-commit to disciplines they've never practiced and quit inside the first week. Don't do that.
2. Week one: two minutes.
Set a timer. Sit somewhere alone. No phone, no music, no podcast. Your brain will immediately generate a to-do list, replay a conversation from 2019, and wonder what’s the plan for the day. That's normal. You're not failing. You're just meeting yourself. Let the thoughts come and go.
3. Week two: five to ten minutes.
Same idea, but add a single prompt: "God, what do you want me to notice?" or “God, what are you wanting to say to me right now?” Leave the door open. See how God shows up.
4. Week three: go somewhere different.
Outside. A park. A small chapel if you can find one. Our homes are full of cues to be productive. Sometimes you need a different space to inhabit a different posture. Being in God’s creation is a perfect place to practice this!
5. What you're not trying to do: Empty your mind.
Manufacture a feeling. You're simply creating conditions. Willard called disciplines "the means of grace". Try to remember they are not the transformation in and of itself, they simply position us to receive what only God can give. Which in the end is actual transformation.
Most people over-commit to disciplines they've never practiced and quit inside the first week. Don't do that.
2. Week one: two minutes.
Set a timer. Sit somewhere alone. No phone, no music, no podcast. Your brain will immediately generate a to-do list, replay a conversation from 2019, and wonder what’s the plan for the day. That's normal. You're not failing. You're just meeting yourself. Let the thoughts come and go.
3. Week two: five to ten minutes.
Same idea, but add a single prompt: "God, what do you want me to notice?" or “God, what are you wanting to say to me right now?” Leave the door open. See how God shows up.
4. Week three: go somewhere different.
Outside. A park. A small chapel if you can find one. Our homes are full of cues to be productive. Sometimes you need a different space to inhabit a different posture. Being in God’s creation is a perfect place to practice this!
5. What you're not trying to do: Empty your mind.
Manufacture a feeling. You're simply creating conditions. Willard called disciplines "the means of grace". Try to remember they are not the transformation in and of itself, they simply position us to receive what only God can give. Which in the end is actual transformation.
Recommended Books
The Spirit of the Disciplines — Dallas Willard
Celebration of Discipline — Richard Foster
Ruthless Elimination of Hurry — John Mark Comer
Invitation to Silence and Solitude — Ruth Haley Barton
Celebration of Discipline — Richard Foster
Ruthless Elimination of Hurry — John Mark Comer
Invitation to Silence and Solitude — Ruth Haley Barton