Alone in Stillness

Solitude and faith have deep roots in scripture and the writings of the church fathers. They often appear together, highlighting spiritual growth and communion with God. 

Unsurprisingly, Jesus often withdrew to lonely places to pray (Luke 5,16). His example reaffirms the need to examine our understanding of solitude and its role in deepening God’s Presence in our life.

Solitude is not a withdrawal from responsibility, but a thirsting after God: its purpose highlights its role. It is not accidental that “Ora ed Labora” summarises Saint Benedict’s vision of monasticism because solitude intends personal commitment surpassing a comfy existence: it is service-focused, allowing us 'to smell the sheep' (Pope Francis). The stillness that accompanies reinforces this insight. 

Stillness deepens our understanding of faith as relational trust, and not just intellectual assent: the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen (Hebrews 11,1). This involves an inner journey, which, quoting Saint Augustine, invites us to enter our heart and, if faith persists, we find God there (Confessions, Bk 10).

Rather than isolation, stillness concerns an inwardness that allows us to encounter the Divine by retreating from external distractions: a space to cultivate faith, not an excuse to flee from the world (John Chrysostom, Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew). Consequently, Evagrius Ponticus – a desert monk and theologian – emphasises solitude (hesychia) as essential for spiritual clarity: to be separated from all but united with all (Praktikos, 6).

We often define ourselves by what we do, rather than by whom we become: the stillness that enlightens our longing for God reminds us that aloneness defines us (Gregory of Nazianus, Oration 2.11). This insight invites us to take the Tabernacle seriously because its silences embrace our hearts.

Used to rushing, teaching, meetings, preaching or attending functions, we fail to realise that faith needs space to grow: stillness provides that space. Aloneness is not mere physical isolation: rather, it is interior detachment from noise, sin, and misplaced opinions. It is an enriching experience whereby being alone with the Alone is never a loss but a deepening of our discipleship.

 

Martin

 

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