Want Peace? Prove It.

Everybody says they want peace.

But do they really? Do you?

Last weekend I served as a lector at Mass and proclaimed the reading from the first book of Kings, in which Elijah heard the voice of God not in the storm, earthquake, or fire, but in a still, small voice. (1 Kings 19:9-13)

God still works that way today.

Sure, sometimes He seems to shout at me with a megaphone so loud I’m sure everyone in a five-mile radius of me must be getting the same message.

But most of the time, He communicates in the silence.

I think we all crave peace. And yet, we are very uncomfortable with silence. 

One day I was feeling unsettled and anxious. I asked God, “Why don’t I have peace?” He answered me, “Because you prioritize action over silence.”

Ouch. He’s not wrong.

Was it an audible response? No, but it was clear as a bell in my still, quiet heart.

If you don’t feel like God speaks to you, the first question to ask is, “How much time do you spend in silence before Him?”

This past Lent, I decided to fast from noise. I realized that my walks, my drives, and my studio time are almost always accompanied by noise. Music. Sports talk radio. Podcasts. Political commentary. 

Hardly any of it is “bad.” 

But it is noise.

And as with any good fast, I quickly saw how much I take for granted. It was painfully obvious how addicted I am to noise and distraction.

As author Josh Nadeau points out, “If you want to feast on beauty, you must fast from noise.”

Our homes, our cities, our calendars, and our lives are filled with noise. It doesn’t have to be particularly loud or necessarily bad to be effective at accomplishing the devil’s aims. As the senior demon in The Screwtape Letters proclaimed, “We will make the whole universe a noise in the end.”

Why would the devil be so interested in noise? Shouldn’t he be more focused on more “evil” things? Simple. 

Noise bullies out the gentle whispers of the Holy Spirit.

Noise is the spiritual violence of our age. 

In his book, The Power of Silence, Robert Cardinal Sarah says, “Noise is a deceptive, addictive, and false tranquilizer. Man desperately awaits noise so that it will bring him a few consolations. In killing silence, man assassinates God.”

We do use noise as a balm — a “false tranquilizer” —because in the silence, we come face to face with our fears and our regrets, with our guilty conscience and with Truth. Indeed, we come face to face with God, and it can be terrifying. We feel naked.

Noise — even noise that isn’t inherently bad — distracts us from all that uncomfortability. So we turn our whole lives into white-noise machines in a desperate desire for soothing comfort.

But while blinded by our fear and shame, we forget the most important thing: In exchange for entering into silence and coming clean before Him, Jesus offers to give us peace. True peace, not the fake kind we get when we let an algorithm play with our dopamine cycles. 

None of our weaknesses are a surprise to God. Our sins do not scandalize Him.

If you want to hear the voice of God, you have to practice being silent. 

Start with five minutes. Decide to leave the radio off on your way home from work. Go for a walk around the block and leave your earbuds at home. 

If you’re serious about bringing peace into your life, spend time in Eucharistic adoration. Because if you really want to hear God speak, this is a foolproof recipe: 1) Plant yourself a few feet from Him and 2) Shut up. 

Oh, and don’t fall into the trap of thinking that you’re bad at it just because you get distracted nineteen seconds in. That only confirms you are human.

I currently have a regular adoration slot each week. I am consistently flabbergasted by how quickly it goes. I use the word “flabbergasted” intentionally because I remember when I first started going to adoration years ago and how five minutes felt like standing in line at the DMV, manned by someone who makes a sloth seem speedy. The key words here are “years ago.” It takes time. 

Yes, it’s hard. Yes, it’s easy to become distracted. But eventually you receive clarity. Remember the best way to clear a jar of muddy water?

Jesus stands ready and willing to offer you His peace.

There’s only really one way to get it.

Do you want it, or not?