The Gift of Silence

Sunlight poured through the windows of the third floor room in the monastery where twenty novice artists bent over icons, working carefully to apply the paint-like substance made by a master iconographer from red clay, water, and egg yolk. Filling the air were the ancient chants harmonized for centuries by monks in monasteries throughout Europe and the near East.
Silently, prayerfully meditating on God’s own nature, the artists carefully prepared the surface for gold leaf to enliven the halo, designating the central figure as a heavenly-inspired personage.
Purposefully, the artists endeavored to make all of the icons identical so that the message would be preserved accurately.
In fact, the artists left each finished icon unsigned simply because a signature might be a distraction from the symbolism intended to draw the viewers’ attention to, in this case, the mighty warrior-angel who expelled Satan from heaven, Archangel Michael.
The artists worked on hand-crafted wooden boards which were prepared with twenty coats of plaster, sanded smooth between each coat by the nuns of a similar sisterhood.
For hours on end, icon students learned the centuries-old technique as an instrument of devotion; as in the Middle Ages when monks devoted their lives to keeping the gospel message alive by spreading the message via icons and illuminated texts to civilizations that were most often illiterate.
Today, students can gather in a scattering of places around the US for instruction by masters who have been trained by one lone man who brought the process to the US and developed a school in New York after leaving the USSR when that government was committed to destroying all Russian icons. At that time, those who understood the ancient technique, because of their association with the Greek Orthodox Church, were often persecuted.
Now, once a year, the Jesuit Spirituality Center in Grand Coteau, Louisiana, hosts an iconography workshop. For one week, students gather from all over the US to be trained in the ancient art.
The Center is a peaceful place because the Jesuit priests who live there adhere to the principles of St. Ignatius’s spiritual exercises that are best experienced with quantities of silent contemplation.
Jesuit priests prayerfully provide quiet hospitality throughout the year to folks who come for silent retreats. Bells interrupt the silence at regular intervals, announcing meals and daily Mass.
It is impossible to describe my feelings as I began to inscribe the pure white board with the black lines of the icon’s pattern, symbolizing sin’s pattern on the beauty and purity of God’s creation. Amid the silence, each stroke of my brush reminded me again of how grateful I am to belong to Him.
Meditation is a lost art in our culture.
There is something purifying and healing about silence. Awe-inspiring.
This holiday, amid the clatter of the season and as the New Year begins, why not take a few hours to give your soul the gift of silence?
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.