“The importance of Silence, especially in prayer”
A Reflection by Fred Schaeffer, OFS

Pope St. John Paul II says the following about the importance of silence while praying: “Listening and meditation are nourished by silence…. A discovery of the importance of silence is one of the secrets of practicing contemplation and meditation. One drawback of a society dominated by technology and the mass media is the fact that silence becomes increasingly difficult to achieve.”

Pope St. John Paul was right. Been trying to get back to this reflection since Wednesday, which was four days ago. To write something so serious I need to be in a state of recollection but with all the electronic interruptions I did not get there. Advertising is not an occasional email anymore; no, now there are pop-ups, constantly. Gone is any thought of calmness and peace. With the Covid Pandemic I order more items by mail, but “by mail” brings more junk mail into the house. When they bug me too much, I lose my temper, and then I can forget about writing reflections that day. And “snail mail” has become an industry. I get 20+ letters a day, and they are all letters asking for help. I feel sorry for those who need help that bad, but I do not have the funds to help them all. Not even 10% of them.

Lately, email purveyors (such as Gmail, a product of Google™) have begun to use “notifications.” I check my email several times a day, when I am not doing anything else, but I refuse to be interrupted every minute with notifications! I will get nothing done. No reflections at any rate. Notifications are not selective; they do not weed out scams, junk mail, meaningless messages, etc. I’m retired but my time is valuable, and being a senior person, I can use an afternoon nap (but rarely get it). I need silence.
My cellphone has a new feature. If you place it on a surface face-down, it takes you into “Do Not Disturb” mode. I think I will use it more often.

Silence does not only pertain to any sound, but what kind of sound. I may have a very soft Gregorian Chant DVD on while I am trying to write an intelligent sentence. To get into the right frame of mind, where God’s presence is felt, and everything else is excluded, I need a specific atmosphere, but most of all, I need silence. The life of our soul is to reach a plateau of relative peace, there are some things we need to do while keeping company with Jesus. We must be alert for any danger that will upset our inner relationship with Jesus. There is a dignity to our vocation for a Franciscan whose inner relationship with Jesus is strong and calm, who is not swayed by the endless vicissitudes of daily life, who is always gracious and kind, such a friend of God will reap the spiritual harvest to come.

A friar I used to know had the gift of finding a quiet place amid a din of people and sound. He’d curl up on a bench or couch, and “go to sleep.” But he was not asleep, he’d close his eyes and daydream with the Lord. He would drown out the cacophony around him with silence. What a sublime gift. That friar was, the late, Fr. Rock Travnikar, OFM (1945-2016: He went to the Lord on Christmas Day!) He brought me into the OFM’s. I did him a grave injustice: I did not stay in touch after I was there. I’m sorry Fr. Rock, I should have treated you better. I was not grateful, because it did not work out, but that was not your fault. I will never forget you.

Television, especially EWTN, has great programming. I like military documentaries but some of those are rough stories. Reminds me of days long ago, three years in the US Army in Germany (early 1960’s), but it also reminds me of a time I’d rather forget: WWII. The films are interesting but there was too much suffering in my family in WWII. For someone who was only 2-4 years old when it all happened, why do I remember so much from that time: television, not then but now, and stories my family have shared with me. I spent my first four years in a cellar in Nijmegen, Holland, hiding from the events that went on over my head. Tanks, German vs. British and later, American, shooting at each other. Making a lot of noise. That’s why I am so sensitive to noise to this day. Despite that, my hearing is acute, especially for high notes. Must be the years listening to birds.

Speaking about birds, I used to place tags on birds’ feet for 23+ years from 1965, when I was 25. I was always interested in contributing to science in some way or another. It began with a project I participated in for the American Museum of Natural History, at Great Gull Island, in 1965, a year after my discharge from military service. Great Gull Island was “roughing it,” no running water, everything had to be brought with the worker from New London, CT (there was no scheduled ferry; we had an “arrangement” with a local fisherperson, in this case a retired captain). It was mostly fun, but lots of bending (to pick up birds which nested on the ground and putting them back). After you do that a couple of dozen times your back begins to complain. And in summer it was extremely hot out there. At other times it was extremely damp, rainy. Apart from the birds (species of Tern) making lots of sound, it was wonderful silence. It was a wonderful place to meditate on the beauty of God’s creation, and on St. Francis who loved the birds. It is a nice memory now, having been involved with birds. It is so very Franciscan!

Three years later I started with migration studies at Town of Oyster Bay’s (South) Long Island property (now JFK Memorial Sanctuary) with a bunch of other people. Nice memories. But to everything there must be an end. I did a study at Delmarva Peninsula, VA while vacationing there. I was able to get into hawk banding with Peter Polisse (before he moved to the U.P. (northern Michigan) where I visited with him twice). Pete and I were great friends and still are. I loved working with hawks, and I worked for the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service for ten years (in Vero Beach FL) where I participated in a banding/observation project of the Florida Scrub Jay, at one of the small airports in Brevard County with a State biologist. After that I folded up my tent and that brought me to the time where I began my Religious Life experiences, in Ohio, Indiana and later in Massachusetts and back to Florida. I mention all this because it has a lot to do with silence, it is work one does often, or mostly alone. I used to talk to the birds (they did not talk back), and it often became a two-way conversation with the Lord.

I just wish I had photographs of my bird adventures. I used film that produced slides and they all went bad after many years. I will never forget those years, nor the people I met.

Peace,

Fred Schaeffer, OFS
September 19, 2021

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