The World Health Organization has argued that "excessive noise" is a serious threat to human health.

Studies have shown that excessive exposure to noise not only causes hearing loss but also leads to heart disease, poor sleep and hypertension.

In some parts of the world, a mysterious "droning sound," similar to a "a diesel engine idling nearby," has been described as "torture" for the small percent of the population that can hear it.

I'm a scholar of early Christianity and my research shows that monasticism developed in part because people were seeking the solace of quiet places.

But for them, like us, it was a struggle.

Ancient philosophers on noise

To give just one example: The Stoic philosopher Seneca described in great detail the noises coming from a bathhouse just below the room where he was writing, expressing his irritation at the distracting "babel" all around him.

At the end of his letter, he says he has decided to withdraw to the country for quiet.

Ancient Greek and Roman philosophers frequently regarded noise as a serious distraction, one that challenged their ability to concentrate.

Noise and Christian monasticism

There were many reasons why Christian monasticism developed.

Ancient Christian writers, like John Cassian, claimed that the origins of monasticism lay in the examples set by the apostles of Jesus, who gave up everything to follow him.

Some modern scholars have argued that monasticism was a natural development following the early history of persecution of Christians, which shaped a view of suffering as a key way to show one's dedication to the faith.

While the origins of monasticism are not entirely clear, scholars do know that Christian monks drew upon philosophical views about noise and distraction and, in some cases, chose to leave the cacophony of urban life for the wilderness.

Even when they stayed in cities or villages, writings from this time period show that they were seeking a life free from the distractions and burdens of society.

Take, for example, the story of Paul, a young Christian in third-century Egypt, identified by his biographer, Jerome, as "the first hermit."

Jerome says that Paul "amid thunders of persecution retired to a house at a considerable distance and in a more secluded spot."

The story of Antony, a contemporary of Paul's, is written by the Alexandrian bishop Athanasius, who describes how Antony was left burdened by caring for his sister after the death of his parents.

Distracted by the crowds of neighbors demanding access to his parents' wealth and property he chose to leave his village and embark on a life as a hermit.

Noise in the desert

Noise came in many forms. In "The Life of Antony," for example, demons thunder, crash and hiss.

Although the descriptions of such sounds might seem to be auditory hallucinations, the texts do regard them as real, not fictional.

Monastic rules and sayings instruct monks about the dangers of human speech, laughter, and even the noise of children in monasteries.

These texts emphasize the importance of silence in two forms: a quiet environment in which monks can concentrate and also refrain from too much speaking. Many of the sayings urge monks to "keep silent."

Seeking silence

But even as these stories suggest that Christian monks were choosing solitude by going into the desert, the same stories show that silence was not to be found even in the remotest desert wilds.

As the reputation of Antony and other monks from Egypt spread around the Mediterranean, the stories of Antony complain that "the desert has become a city."

Too many people, it seems, sought the wisdom of the hermits and created a distraction akin to city life by taking pilgrimages to see them.

The challenges of noise and distraction were, in fact, always part of the monastic life.

And so it remains to this day. One of the ways that monks and nuns have dealt with this challenge is by cultivating a sense of inner silence and inner stillness through practices like meditation, prayer and sitting in solitude.

In Greek, the language of the earliest Christian monastic texts, the word "hesychia" is used to describe the "interior stillness … that brings forth all the virtues" and over time it comes to be a central goal of Christian monasticism.

The ancient quest for silence can perhaps teach us how to respond to the challenges of our increasingly loud world and find our own silence.

• Kim Haines-Eitzen is a professor of Early Christianity at Cornell University.

With the film's release, conjecture and debate continues.

For some critics, it's a major disappointment: slow moving (at 161 minutes); minimalist action; characters that fail to engage emotionally with the viewer; intense cruelty and so on.

Certainly it didn't generate much enthusiasm from the Academy in terms of this year's Oscars (which in itself was somewhat surprising given the reputation Scorsese rightly enjoys as a major influence in movies).

Other critics are far more positive and see "Silence" as a movie that poses very significant intellectual questions on such matters as faith and just what is "apostasy"; cultural engagement and the role and place of missionaries.

Different levels of engagement

And that spectrum between disappointment and acclaim gives us a clue as to how we might engage with "Silence" on a spiritual level - because whatever else it is or isn't, "Silence" is a movie that not only invites the audience to engage, it demands it if we are to gain any sense of how Scorsese is aiming to bring Endo's novel to the screen.

That level of engagement is for the viewer to decide.

If we wish to see "Silence" as purely an historical story of some early Christian missionaries in Japan, then we can do so - and we will, in fact, likely find it tedious, uninspiring and horrific.

Further, we may well - as some critics have - see it as an attack on the whole concept of evangelisation and a statement that ultimately, faith is purely human and, when put under enough stress, doomed.

If we are willing to engage on a more intellectual level and enter into the questions the movie puts before us, then "Silence" becomes an intense, nearly 3-hour debate about the relationship of missionaries with the local faithful who have survived and endured in the faith in the absence of any priests; about the purpose of suffering and what it is reasonable and possible to expect of people; about how often we can - or should even - forgive someone; about judgement of those who seem to have given up their faith in order to stay alive.

And there is at least one other level of engagement that offers itself to us: to view the movie not only from the standpoint of its "message"; nor solely on an intellectual level; but as a meditation - an invitation to enter into prayer as we reflect on what we learn about ourselves as a result of having watched "Silence" .

To take such an approach is both very Marist (in the spirit of Luke 2:19 - "Mary pondered all these things in her heart") and also very Ignatian.

Essentially, by viewing the movie as a meditation we are asking ourselves "What moved me - either to Consolation or to Desolation - in this movie?"

An Ignation view

In the Ignatian sense, how we view spiritual consolation and spiritual desolation depends on whether our basic orientation is towards intimacy with God or away from that intimacy.

As such, consolation and desolation are not feelings but indicators of where we are pointed based on our underlying attitudes.[Monty Williams, SJ The Gift of Spiritual Intimacy, pp28-29]

The difficulty for many of us, though, is in understanding just what is happening within us in terms of our basic orientation.

• What are our values?
• What really motivates us?

Without a deep understanding of what these are, we are always open to the risk that our values and actions control us rather than vice-versa.

By entering into a movie as a meditation (and obviously not all movies lend themselves to this approach, but "Silence" certainly does) we can come to a greater awareness of what moves us in our lives in both positive and negative ways. By engaging with the movie we can reflect on what moves us to consolation (draws us out of ourselves and closer to God) and what moves us to desolation (closing in on ourselves).

And so we can see "Silence" engaging us not only on the level of its message and of the intellectual questions it poses, but also on the deeper level of "What is happening to me as I watch this movie?"

And here the values of quietness and reflection become central to engaging with Scorsese's movie on a deeper level.

Just what is the "silence" of the title? In terms of the movie (and Endo's novel), it certainly includes God's apparent silence in the face of doubt and of suffering, both spiritual and physical. It includes the natural "silence" of nature throughout the movie (in the absence of anything that could reasonably be called a musical score).

From a Marist perspective

And from a Marist perspective we could also say that the silence includes the pondering of Mary - and us - as all these things are considered in the heart.

Also from a Marist perspective, it is impossible to view "Silence" as a meditation without taking into account our call to be "instruments of divine mercy": to portray the "feminine features" of God, and to help to build a church which is not perceived in terms of power, planning, control, administration and competitiveness, but rather in terms of community, compassion, simplicity, mercy and fellowship. [Craig Larkin SM, A Certain Way, "Instruments of Divine Mercy", p 50].

To enter into the movie as a form of, we could consider the following questions:

• What elements touched me positively [moved me to consolation] in "Silence" and why?
• How do these relate to my own life and my life experiences?
• What do they say to my present values and where I am on my spiritual path?
• How do they help me understand more what is going on within me, around me, in my family and community, in my work, in the society in which I live?
• What elements in "Silence" unsettled or challenged me [moved me to desolation] and why?
• How do these relate to my own life and my life experiences?
• What do they say to my present values and where I am on my spiritual path?
• How do they help me understand more what is going on within me, around me, in my family and community, in my work, in the society in which I live?

There are no neat and satisfying answers at the conclusion of "Silence".

Scorsese remarked in an interview ["Film Comment", January-February 2017 p 31] that he found in the making of the picture that his way of seeing the world was changed.

In viewing the movie and reflecting on it, we could ask ourselves what has changed in the way in which we see and understand ourselves and our world?

• Brian Cummings SM, is the Director of Pa Maria Marist Spirituality Centre, Wellington, New Zealand.
• Originally written for Today's Marists, a publication of the US Marists.

The movie, set in the 1600's, focuses on Jesuit priests in Japan.

Silence has been called a "Masterwork movie about faith and ideas that rocks everything we've been dealing with." Read more

New Zealand representative pistol shooter Raymond O'Brien and his wife Victoria Pichler are opening what they say will be the southern hemisphere's best shooting facility.

"The Mediation Centre hosts up to 1,500 meditators a year. They attend a 10-day residential courses and are not meant to talk for the first nine days.

"This is a very beautiful valley and extremely quiet. It offers a pristine and tranquil environment for our students. We don't know how it will affect us," head meditation teacher Ross Reynolds said.

The gun club, two valleys away, will eventually sport 30 gun ranges - including two shotgun ranges and a 300 metre rifle range.

Residents in the wider rural community of Makarau are also concerned.

"We can hear their bell as they start meditation classes so they will certainly be able to hear any gun fire," said Lesley Rowntree, one of the 15 lifestyle block residents and immediate neighbours of the new gun club.

Another neighbour, Chris Allen, fears for the safety of his two young children and is also angry at the prospect of the noise.

"They say the sound would be like rainfall on the roof, but who wants to listen to that all weekend."

O'Brien say he is between a rock and a hard place - wanting to be a good neighbour, while growing shooting as a sport in New Zealand.

"I approached the council asking where an appropriate piece of land with the right zoning would be.'

"Acoustic testing has been carried out and we're below the threshold."

"A bird call from 10 metres away is 60 decibels, while our readings were 48 and lower."

"There is a demand for a facility like this - it's a growing sport and if we want to be competitive in it we need a facility that will foster training and growth."

Source

• www.stuff.co.nz
• m.nzherald.co.nz
• Image: nz.pinterest.com

Many respected persons made it a practice to rise in the night or in the quiet hours of the morning to seek inspiration that comes in silence, Plato, Einstein, and even Jesus Himself. We all should find a time and a place to be in silent prayer. In the Carmelite tradition, the spiritual life is said to have two aims: the first is about our love of God and the second is about God's love for us. The practice of silence facilitates both of these aims.

The experience of God's love for us

We are meant to taste in our hearts and experience in our minds, not only after death but in this life, something of the power of the Divine Presence and the bliss of heavenly glory. From this point of departure in faith, silence becomes more than a practice. It is a form of prayer - a prayer of listening, waiting, and receptivity. It is a prayer that anticipates and expects intimate communion; it believes in the possibility and holds in high esteem the value of being in relationship with God.

The value of this type of prayer is difficult for our productivity-oriented culture to grasp. It is hard for us to see that a prayer in which "being" predominates over "doing" and that a prayer in which nothing happens is a prayer in which everything happens. It is in silence that we make the interior transition from darkness to light. We become more aware of God's presence within us, of Him speaking to us, of the hidden things which He wishes to reveal to us. Continue reading

• Source: Sister Mary Clare, O.C.D. in Integrated Catholic Life
• Image: The Raw Story

Scaffolding is needed for major repairs and maintenance, such as replacing a roof, or painting a tall building. Sometimes, this scaffolding is then plastic-wrapped, to provide privacy, safety, and a weather-proof working environment.

Once work is completed the scaffolding is dismantled. Ladders, cherry pickers, or long poles are then used to effect minor repairs and on-going maintenance.

We are a building - Shekhinah, a temple of God. Well-designed. The intrinsic design and health of my temple will enable it to weather many storms. But it still needs regular upkeep … and sometimes a major overhaul.

How do I maintain the spiritual life of this temple?

There is an infinite variety of 'scaffolding' available to us on our spiritual journey. Sacraments. Prayer. Worship. Community. Retreat. Spiritual teaching and reading. Spiritual direction and companionship. The framework provided by different spiritualities, such as Marist, Benedictine, Franciscan, Ignatian. Silence.

Some of this scaffolding is designed for major events … initiation, marriage, ordination, death. It shapes us, moulds us, gifts us with grace … but then we take it down and allow that grace to become visible in our temple.

Sometimes we erect scaffolding and wrap it in plastic, to effect a major change. Entering a time of retreat or discernment, when we become especially attentive to the voice of the divine, is a time when we are particularly vulnerable. We need the protection and privacy that exclusion of the outside world offers. But then we strip away the scaffolding and the protective wrap, and slowly the metamorphosis that has taken place deep within, will become evident in our attitudes, our words, our actions.

There are many tools available to us to effect minor repairs and on-going maintenance. Communal worship and liturgy nourishes and sustains us. Reconciliation and conflict resolution repairs cracks and dents in our relationships with others and with God. A personal prayer discipline, unique to each of us as we seek to relate to the God-within and the God-without. Service to others … being the eyes and ears and feet and heart of God to others. Reflection on sacred scripture. Small group interactions.

Our institutional churches are also temples - literally and metaphorically. Well designed. Intrinsically good. But the scaffolding has been up for many years - and I wonder why it has not been taken down. Scaffolding in the guise of Vatican 2 enabled major renovations within the Catholic Church - a major transformation. But not only is this scaffolding being dismantled, many of the renovations have also been removed. A little counter-productive.

I wonder if ancient, ineffectual scaffolding is shoring up a crumbling edifice. Perhaps it is time for this scaffolding to be removed, and demolition experts invited in to remove all that is rotten. This is not a time for plastic-wrapping: everything must be done in plain view, open to inspection and inspiration.

Scaffolding is always a sign of hope; of new beginnings; of creativity and hard work; of attentiveness to what has been done, what needs to be done, and what needs to be protected. Scaffolding is always unique. It is shaped to the building and to the work that must be undertaken. Scaffolding can be used again and again but each time it will be different and will enable different work to be done. While scaffolding is designed to facilitate construction work and repairs, its primary purpose is ALWAYS the health and safety of those who use it.

Can we say that the scaffolding we use in our spiritual life is healthy - for us and for those who encounter us?

Can we say that the scaffolding our churches use is healthy - and considers first those who dwell within and those who are passers-by?

• Liz Pearce, a mother of three adult children, loves story, writing, and dollmaking www.heartfeltdolls.weebly.com

Saying farewell to a Pope who hasn't actually died makes this experience of farewell a rather unusual one - at least it hasn't happened for centuries.

Benedict has said clearly that he will spend the rest of his days "hidden from the world" and in prayer and silence. This has made me think a lot about the power of silence, and how it can be used for good or for harm.

Sadly, over centuries, the Vatican has developed the art of placing itself behind walls of secrecy, silence and anonymity. Silence has been used as an instrument of power, and with harmful effects.

Visits of inquiry into dioceses or into the conduct of Bishops in the dioceses have frequently been followed by no report; letters written by people to different Vatican departments often receive no reply or no acknowledgement; anonymity surrounds many of the accusations made about priests, religious or laypeople denounced to the Vatican; people called to explain themselves have often complained of not receiving the information they rightly deserve.

This silence is not the silence of professional confidentiality.

This is something else.

It's a bad way of dealing with people, and this sort of silence becomes an instrument which harms.

Tomorrow Benedict withdraws permanently into the shadows to live a life of prayer and silence. He probably won't be seen again or heard again; but no one can ignore him while he remains a silent presence in the heart of the Vatican which he found difficult to cleanse or govern.

This silence might well be an instrument of healing for the Church.

- Fr Craig Larkin s.m., who is based in Rome, writing exclusively for CathNews NZ Pacific

Mark Vernon considers that "The lectures present a lively history of silence in the church, and left me with a clear sense that this is a history that affects us all today".

According to Vernon, "Noisy Christianity is alive and kicking. For individuals who feel the allure of silence, it is off-putting and irrelevant. They might never know that there are profound, useful meditative traditions in Christianity too".

• Read Mark Vernon's article
• Image: Fields of Silence

Mark Vernon is a writer and journalist. His latest book is called How To Be An Agnostic.