As a writer, I find lovely little consolations in grasping just the right words to convey an experience. So when one of the most articulate teachers I’ve ever had told me I needed to listen for what wasn’t said, I was very perplexed. How could I possibly know what wasn’t said?  Any of 10,000 things could have NOT been said.  What’s important to me is what WAS said, the words, the tone, the intention.  But alas, today, I came to understand the ways in which my teacher was exactly in line with Ignatius in the need to listen for and be aware of what wasn’t said.

In contemplation with the senses, Ignatius encourages prayer that puts oneself into the passage from scripture.  You may find yourself an invisible observer in the room of the last supper, hearing the clink of the cups, or you may find yourself one of the characters in the scene, the one being healed, one of the apostles, or even seeing the situation from the perspective of Jesus himself.  But when I utilize that prayer, I am instructed to use all my senses, hearing, sight, smell, touch, even taste, and imagine all that would be evoked within me. I am also instructed to contemplate what wasn’t said, that is, what  wasn’t written in the Gospels. What would I have said?  What side conversations may be going on? What would Jesus have said to me had I been there?  Ignatius asks that I allow the Spirit to speak to me more clearly through what wasn’t said.  Listen for what wasn’t said then, but is being said to you now.  In this is the message you need to hear.

In my relationships with others as well, my Examen is making me painfully aware of what wasn’t said, for good and for bad.  I notice the efforts my teenager makes NOT to argue (I try to reinforce those!)  I notice as well when invitations are not extended my way.  Most importantly, though, I am aware of myself and what I won’t say. What do I really want to say, but just can’t? Where do we hold ourselves back from saying what we truly believe? What could one of us have said, but didn’t?  When I take time to recognize what wasn’t said, I often find the places I most need to grow.

But in both my prayer and my relationships, there is a definite, glorious consolation that comes in recognizing what wasn’t said within those times when nothing can be said, when words defy us, when we are in the space of the ineffable, when the sentiment between the pray-er and the Praised are One and known by each, when we are in total solidarity with another.    To recognize those moments when our verbal capacities fail us, is to recognize that there is One greater than us.

As Jesus stood before Pilate, waiting to be sentenced, Pilate challenged him verbally: “What is truth?” and “Where are you from?”  And the Gospel of John says, “Jesus chose not to answer.”  Perhaps the greatest teacher in history knew, like my teacher knew, like Ignatius knew, that what wasn’t said can be the most powerful message of all.

Photo: "I will whisper hidden secrets in your ear" by HAMED MASOUMI from Flickr (Used under Creative Commons license)