Silence
The Silence of the Desert
There is a story told of St. Anthony the Great. When he first went into the desert, he was not immediately surrounded by peace. Rather, he was assaulted by waves of thoughts, memories, fears, temptations, and regrets. What was supposed to be a place of refuge and silence became a place of noise. It was the noise of his own mind. One day, after a long interior struggle, he cried out to the Lord, “Where were You?” And Christ answered him: “Anthony, I was here. I was waiting to see your struggle.”
Saint Anthony learned a valuable lesson: silence is not the absence of noise, but the place where the heart learns to remain with Christ in the midst of interior noise.
Our focus this past week has been on the pilgrims’ journey to Jerusalem, the joy accompanying their arrival in the holy city, and the sense of fulfillment that this journey brings.
Today is a good day to pause. To attempt to enter into a brief silence.
There is a tradition in ancient Christianity of going to the desert. In the fourth century, men and women left behind the noise of cities and withdrew into silence. They did not go there to escape the world, but to encounter Christ more deeply. They sought humility, repentance, fraternal charity, and purity of heart.
The Catechism reminds us: The desire for God is written in the human heart, because man is created by God and for God; and God never ceases to draw man to himself. Only in God will he find the truth and happiness he never stops searching for: The dignity of man rests above all on the fact that he is called to communion with God. This invitation to converse with God is addressed to man as soon as he comes into being. For if man exists it is because God has created him through love, and through love continues to hold him in existence. He cannot live fully according to truth unless he freely acknowledges that love and entrusts himself to his creator. (CCC 27)
The desire for God can be buried under distraction. The desert fathers discovered that if the exterior world grows quiet, the interior world becomes louder. This is where the wisdom of the desert fathers can speak to us.
The Desert Fathers used the Greek word logismos to describe this noise. A logismos is not simply a thought. No, it is a thought that lingers. These thoughts begin to dialogue with us, often incessantly. They become a suggestion that pulls our attention away from God. If we are not on guard, these thoughts gradually begin to shape our heart.
Evagrius of Pontus suggested a dangerous pattern can develop that will eventually lead us to sin. Here is the pattern: A thought appears. We entertain it. We begin to converse with it. It takes root in the heart. Then it leads to action. It becomes a habit. Then it forms our character.
What the Desert Fathers are teaching us is that sin rarely begins with a dramatic decision. It begins with an unnoticed thought. As the Epistle James writes, “Each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire; then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin” (Jas 1:14–15).
It is easy to fall into the trap of thinking that the desert was a place free from temptation. No, the desert was the place where temptation became visible.
Life today is filled with so many great conveniences. But, it is saturated with noise. Our phones connect us with so many of these conveniences, yet, they rarely allow us to rest. Constant notifications, endless information. There is always something to read, to answer, to endlessly scroll.
When I go on pilgrimage, I make a simple decision: I do not use technology. I turn the phone off as I walk toward the next pilgrim stop in silence.
What is crazy is that at first it is uncomfortable. There is a sort of anxiousness in which something feels like it’s missing. It is weird to instinctively reach for the phone. It’s like there is a mindless search for distraction.
But slowly, usually after a few days, another reality emerges. Something feels different. The rhythm of walking becomes a sort of prayer. ‘Things’ settle down.
Yet, even when the phone is off, the mind continues speaking.
Comparison.
Resentment
Fantasy.
Fear.
Self-justification.
Old conversations.
Imagined and made up scenarios.
These logismoi are not merely passing thoughts. They are thoughts that are silently yelling—ENTERTAIN ME. These thoughts want a conversation. And if we are not attentive, it slowly shapes our perception, our emotions, and eventually our actions. It draws our attention away from the present moment. And yes, away from God. Silence does not eliminate the logismoi. It reveals them.
However, when they are revealed, they lose some of their power. We can say, “This is not from you, O Lord,” and return again to Him. In this way, the journey outward becomes a journey inward.
Perhaps today we can enter into a quieter space where we can hear the voice of Christ.
Silence is not about emptying ourselves into nothing. It is about creating space. It is the space to recognize which thoughts are not from God, and space to receive the thoughts that are.
My prayer for you today is to sit in silence. Even if it’s for a brief moment, it can be a place where if you listen closely, you will hear the voice of Christ.
© 2026, Lawain McNeil, Mission Surrender, LLC.
Today I will sit in silence; turn my phone & TV off. Thanks for sharing...