by Londyn, SEM Intern
I used to feel insecure about my quiet nature. I would watch others lead, speak, shine—commanding rooms with their charisma, weaving words into influence—and I would wonder if my presence was enough. I would sit in conversations, not always knowing what to say, but deeply feeling the weight of someone else’s words. And I would ask myself: is this a gift, or just passivity dressed up as virtue? Is my silence meaningful, or merely a void?
In a world that prizes visibility, volume, and velocity, quietness can feel like a flaw. We are taught to equate worth with productivity, impact with noise, and leadership with dominance. But Orthodoxy has a way of answering questions we did not know how to ask. It does not rush to fill silence with sound. It does not confuse stillness with stagnation. It teaches us that love is not always loud and that healing often comes through stillness.
Throughout the life of the Church, there have been saints whose holiness was revealed not through eloquence, but through silence. St. Silouan the Athonite, for example, lived in quiet prayer and deep humility, offering his heart to God in stillness and tears. St. Mary of Egypt, after her dramatic conversion, spent decades in the desert in complete solitude, her repentance echoing loud. St. Seraphim of Sarov greeted visitors with radiant peace, often saying little but emanating divine love. These saint’s lives are icons of the truth that stillness can be the most powerful witness of grace.
When we listen, we echo Christ’s descent into our brokenness. We say, “I’m here. I see you, and I won’t run away.” And that presence can be more healing than any advice or solution. Listening is not passive, it is active love. It is spiritual labor and the work of mercy. And yes, it is quiet! And yet, so is the heart that prays in secret. If you have ever felt like your gift is too small, too quiet, too invisible—remember this: Christ was born in a cave. He came in silence. He healed with a touch. He listened to the woman at the well, to the thief on the cross, to the cries of the blind and the broken. And He listens to you. So go ahead, be the listener. Be the quiet one. Be the heart that holds space. You are doing holy work!
Here are some ideas for growing as a listener:
Put away distractions: Silence your phone, close your tabs, and give your full attention. Presence is the first gift.
Don’t interrupt: Let their words unfold. Silence does not have to be empty.
Pray before, during, and after: Ask God to help you listen with love, and to bless the person you’ve heard.
Allow pauses: Don’t rush to fill silence–let it breathe!
See Christ in the other: Every person is an icon. Listening becomes an act of reverence.