In his reflections on solitude, Dietrich Bonhoeffer tells us that “Whoever cannot be alone should beware of community. Whoever cannot stand being in community should beware of being alone.”
If we cannot bear to be alone, if our experiences in solitude are uncomfortable or even painful, it is tempting to seek an escape through community. But the testimony of those who have persevered in solitude reveals that it is worth the struggle. Solitude can be a place of healing, a place of transformation, a place of deeper connection to God. Bonhoeffer goes on to say that for a person who can’t bear being alone, fleeing solitude and seeking community will actually bring harm to them and their community.
Bonhoeffer’s warning here is apt for those who tend to avoid what is going on inside of them, the hard stuff that can more easily bubble to the surface in times of solitude. If we refuse to deal with it, if we refuse to allow God to work on it in our time alone with him, then we may block the transformation God wants for us. And then we bring that hard stuff into the community and do it harm, often through an unhealthy set of expectations or demands that the community wasn’t built to meet. For Bonhoeffer, part of the Christian life is done alone. I must choose to take up my cross, I must go through struggles, I must pray alone. I cannot avoid myself. If I try to do so I will harm myself and my community.
But if we enter into and remain in solitude, it can help us grow in humility and love, which is healing to us. It is humbling to become aware of what is going on beneath the surface. This is an awareness that solitude can produce. It is humbling to see the ways that we are broken, or sinful, or falling short in our key commitments to ourselves, others, and God. It is humbling to see the depths of our anger, or fear, or anxiety.
But if we allow God’s love to shatter our pride, we can be transformed as we humbly receive the good God has for us. It is only by allowing this awareness to surface that we can more fully experience the richness of God’s grace, which itself deepens our experience of God’s humility and love. Solitude opens us up to these sorts of experiences. And when we have such experiences, one result is that we are encouraged to grow in humility as well as love for God, others, and ourselves. In these ways solitude is good for us. When we bring this into our relationships with others, it is also good for the community.
Let’s turn to specific practices of solitude and consider how they can foster such growth. Before we do, it is important to note that Bonhoeffer believes that “the mark of solitude is silence.” I think he is right. Solitude and silence don’t have to go together, but they are a natural pair of practices to try in tandem.
When I first tried to implement solitude and silence into my days, one thing that was helpful was to set a timer for ten to thirty minutes and just do nothing, alone in a quiet room. No agenda and no expectations (which can be hard, because we want to experience God). The simple act of being alone, away from people, screens, noise, demands, and other responsibilities, really is life-giving.
More recently, I’ve been using an app called “Centering Prayer,” which walks you through some guided time in solitude with God. You select a word that expresses your intention for your time alone with God, and use it to focus and refocus yourself. In recent months I’ve focused on “faith” pretty consistently, as life seems to be testing and trying my faith a lot these days. I especially appreciate the quote from Thomas Keating that pops up after the time of solitude: we should “persevere in contemplative practice without worrying about where we are on the journey.” If we just surrender to God, reject the temptation to compare ourselves with others, and trust that the fruit of our time alone may be hidden from us, as Keating advises, then we are free to just be. We are free to trust God where we are and where he is taking us. Bonhoeffer concurs, advising that the silence of Christians “will be richly rewarded if they do not set any conditions on how they expect this encounter to take place or what they hope to get from it, but simply accept it as it comes.”
This is hard for me. I want results; I want to have these deep and rich experiences of God. But I’m learning to put the evaluations and demands aside and to simply be with God. These small acts of faithfulness matter. Whether or not I have some incredible, life-altering, deep experience of God, I’m learning that I may be experiencing more change, and more of God, than I realize. It may be in small doses, but over time I believe that my relationship with God and others is growing deeper. I hope so. I think so.
What about the silence we offer and experience in solitude? How can that help us grow in humility? One form of silence is withdrawal from the noise of the world, the screens, the people, the near-constant din of distraction. Another kind of silence is that of simply not speaking, which we can take with us out of our time of solitude into our daily lives as appropriate.
The point is not that we entirely refrain from speaking at all, though there may be times for this. Rather, it is that we engage in a particular kind of silence, of not speaking, namely, we forego the practice of trying to gain the approval of others with our words. This is a way to cultivate humility, as we become less dependent on the approval or praise of others. Approval and praise are good things, of course, but if we need them too much we are allowing others to dictate our value to us. This form of silence is also a way to cultivate love. When I talk less and listen more, I communicate to others that I value them; I care about them and what they think. I love by listening, and I listen in love.
This is some of the fruit that solitude can produce.
Sources
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together
“Centering Prayer on the App Store,” https://apps.apple.com/us/app/centering-prayer/id844280857.
Dallas Willard, The Spirit of the Disciplines
Michael W. Austin, Humility and Human Flourishing: A Study in Analytic Moral Theology