Rethinking Silent Prayer

Rethinking
Silent Prayer

Many Christian traditions bear little resemblance to the religious behaviors practiced in the times of the Bible. Some of the differences are merely cultural or technological, but many of the changes directly impact how we practice sacraments of our faith and understand Scripture. Often, we use language to describe practices that are totally unlike the practices of the Bible that carried the same names. Baptism is a good example. No one in the Bible was “sprinkled” nor considered a child’s dedication to be a “baptism,” but today millions do both. A similar phenomena exists in regard to one of the most significant sacraments of the faith: Prayer.

Sure, we pray. But when we “pray,” does the act bear similarity to the act that Christ, Moses, Paul, and countless others thought of when they spoke about praying? When the New Testament writers prescribed prayer or detailed their own efforts with prayer, was the experience similar to how we pray today? If they looked into our homes and churches and saw us praying, would they recognize the practice? Obviously, the language of our prayers is different than theirs, but is the actual action different too? I believe so. The difference is stark and far-reaching. Here, I’d like to specifically call attention to a fundamental aspect of prayer: Speaking.

Christians often think of prayer as any act or thought directed toward God. At times, those thoughts are articulated in verbal communication, especially in group settings, but that’s rarely thought of as an intrinsic aspect of prayer. Silent prayer has become the primary means of communication to God. Where silent prayer intersects with meditation, reflection, listening, or just thinking is often fairly ambiguous.

In many Western churches, prayer has become a spectator sport, with a few, select people verbalizing the prayers and then occasional choruses of “amens” from the congregants. In many church traditions, there’s no expectation of corporate prayer ever involving all voices. (Worship music is an exception, but it’s rarely thought of as “prayer,” though it often should be — Biblical prayers were often sung and chanted.) The incessant silence of our prayers stands in contrast to the Biblical descriptions of prayer and the construct of prayer that existed throughout the regions surrounding the Biblical authors.

If it were possible to read the Bible as a blank slate, one wouldn’t conclude that prayer is a silent act. Like cessationism and infant baptism, it’s an extra-Biblical dogma. Sure, there are a few passages that don’t overtly state the audibility of specific Biblical prayers, but the lion’s share of them are explicitly described as being spoken aloud. Christ’s spoken prayers from the cross are telling examples. In the suffocating agony of crucifixion, He still prayed, loudly. When one reads the Bible without preconceptions, the pattern of prayer is clear: Prayer was a spoken act. Like the acts of blessing, vowing, praising, and speaking in tongues, prayer required audible speaking.

Here is a video summary of this topic. Additional detail is provided below, which also addresses Hannah’s partially unheard prayer.

The Historical Background of Prayer Speaks Loudly

The custom of spoken prayer was virtually universal throughout the ancient world, including Israelite culture. Scholar Israel Knohl asserts that “from what may be inferred from the biblical text, it would seem that prayer recited aloud was the accepted practice during the biblical period” (pp. 26-27). Prayer was always thought to pertain to spoken words. The audible nature of prayer endured until Plato’s stoic ideals began permeating religious circles in late antiquity.

Explaining the religious background into which the Platonism’s phenomena of silent prayer would emerge, historian Sylvia Montiglio states: “All rituals call for prayers, and all prayers call for fully audible voices. … Thus, the relationship between man and god in prayer is envisaged as a relationship between a sender and a recipient of sounds” (pp. 10-11). From a broader perspective of the ancient world, Pieter W. Van Der Horst’s “Silent Prayer in Antiquity” details the original practice of prayer and the subsequent emergence of silent prayer:

“In antiquity prayers were said out loud and silent prayer was regarded as an anomalous practice that was looked upon with great suspicion. It was brought into connection with a variety of base motives which it was feared would be strongly objected to by others, foremost among which are wishes to practice magic, to have illicit sex, or to conceal crimes or criminal plans. It was also feared that one's prayer might be counteracted or undone by more powerful prayers of the opponents. It is only in circles of later (esp. Neo-)Platonism, in the framework of the increasing transcendentalisation in its concept of deity and the corresponding downgrading of anything material or corporeal, that complete silence as the purest form of worship was gradually accepted. This new trend had its influence on the Jewish philosopher Philo and especially on Churchfathers from Clement of Alexandria onwards (and also on some Hermetic and Gnostic circles).” (From the abstract)

Silent prayer doesn’t even appear in Christian writings until late in the second century AD. Scholar Tommi Lehtonen writes, “Silent worship is known in all world religions. However, according to the oldest Christian tradition, prayer is read aloud or chanted; completely silent, mind-internal prayer emerged in the second century AD” (p. 112). Here, Lehtonen is referring to when Clement of Alexandria (a Greek Christian and student of Platonism) penned the The Stromata (Book VII, Chapter 7). This is the earliest existent evidence of any Christian ascribing silence as a form of prayer:

“Prayer is, then, to speak more boldly, converse with God. Though whispering, consequently, and not opening the lips, we speak in silence, yet we cry inwardly. For God hears continually all the inward converse. So also we raise the head and lift the hands to heaven, and set the feet in motion at the closing utterance of the prayer, following the eagerness of the spirit directed towards the intellectual essence; and endeavoring to abstract the body from the earth, along with the discourse, raising the soul aloft, winged with longing for better things, we compel it to advance to the region of holiness, magnanimously despising the chain of the flesh.”

The progression of silent prayer from Platonism, to early adopters like Clement of Alexandria, to general acceptance, and then to widespread use took several centuries. Church history doesn’t see silent prayer become commonplace until after the fourth century AD. All the earliest references to silence in prayer come from Christians with strong Hellenistic/Platonistic backgrounds and cultures. From the fourth century onward, the practice began making steady progress toward being embraced by Judaism and Christianity. Platonism’s reduction of prayer into a silent act was ultimately carried worldwide through the Roman empire.

In Christianity, silent prayer has since become the primary form of prayer in many sects, though it’s unlikely that the Biblical authors would have identified this thought-centric act as “prayer.” Examples of Christianity’s embrace of Platonic silent prayer is evident in many circles. The Quakers’ congregational experiences are almost entirely silent. Many Roman Catholic and other orthodox sects consider silence to be a virtue. Many others prohibit various classes of people (e.g. women) from making any audible noise during church gatherings. But it hasn’t always been that way.

What historians and the Bible both conclude is simple: In antiquity, prayer was originally spoken aloud. In time, Greek philosophy led the Church into the practice of silent prayer, but that came generations after the New Testament was written. As such, when the Bible instructs prayer, we ought to understand that instruction to pertain primarily to audible prayer. Did ancient Israelites and first century Christians value God-oriented thoughts too? Of course. Does God know our thoughts and respond to our unspoken needs? Of course. But it’s misleading to assume that God-oriented thoughts alone satisfy the Biblical invitation to perform in the power of the sacrament of prayer. Prayer is an opportunity granted by God to His people. Today’s definitions of prayer are far more ambiguous than they were in the Biblical era.

The bottom line: There’s power in your words, and God wants to hear them. In the times of the Bible, prayer was always thought to be an act of audible communication. It was a function of speech. Humans were created with voices and given the breath/spirit of life through which they were invited to speak to their Creator. At the same time, the Bible also talks about the value of our unspoken thoughts and God’s omniscience, but such unspoken things lay outside the scope of Biblical prayer.

In the following video, I share my perspective on the subject.

Given the sensitive nature of the subject, I have provided additional analysis of two common Biblical cases that are thought to be exceptions; Hannah and Eliezer. They’re the lone proof texts upon which the entire dogma of silent prayer exists. Basing doctrine on relatively obscure alleged exceptions is tenuous (albeit common), but careful examination reveals that those proof texts don’t actually support the dogma of silent prayer. One includes a moment of silence during an audible vow and prayer. The other wasn’t silent at all.

Hannah’s “Silent Prayer”

In 1 Samuel 1, Hannah asks God for a son. In the course of her prayerful petition, she has a period of inaudible behavior. Throughout the entire Bible, this is the only explicit example of silence amid prayer, yet it’s the source of nearly 2,000 years of dogma on the subject. That fact that there is only one “silent” example among the 222 prayers listed in the Bible should be telling as to what’s the Biblical norm. However, if we look closely at the story, we quickly find that Hannah wasn’t entirely silent after all, and the entire interaction reinforces the truth that silence during prayers was an unfamiliar concept in ancient Israel. Let’s look at 1 Samuel 1, bit-by-bit:

10 “She, greatly distressed, prayed to the LORD and wept bitterly. 11 And she made a vow and said, ‘LORD of armies, if You will indeed look on the affliction of Your bond-servant and remember me, and not forget Your bond-servant, but will give Your bond-servant a son, then I will give him to the LORD all the days of his life, and a razor shall never come on his head.’”

In these introductory verses, we see a few very telling details. First, it says Hannah prayed, which was an act that always carried the default expectation of verbal speaking. More importantly, it says that she made a vow. Vows have to be stated explicitly or they’re just ideas. Ideas aren’t binding — stated vows are. And the text gives us a verbatim transcript of what she vowed. For these sentences to be true, she must have spoken.

12 “Now it came about, as she continued praying before the LORD, that Eli was watching her mouth. 13 As for Hannah, she was speaking in her heart, only her lips were quivering, but her voice was not heard. So Eli thought that she was drunk. 14 Then Eli said to her, ‘How long will you behave like a drunk? Get rid of your wine!’”

After her initial prayer and vow, it says that Hannah continued praying before the Lord. At this point, she’s overcome with emotion. Though she is mouthing unknown words, her voice isn’t engaged or strong enough for Eli to hear her, so he scolds her. Eli’s judgement only makes sense in the historical context. Back then, “silent prayer” wasn’t a thing. As a High Priest, Eli was highly experienced and a lifelong witness to Israelites’ prayers. Yet “silent prayer” was evidently unfamiliar to him. Before moving on, it’s also worth noting that the wordless parts of Hannah’s experience aren’t transcribed in the Bible.

15 “But Hannah answered and said, ‘No, my lord, I am a woman despairing in spirit; I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but I have poured out my soul before the LORD. 16 Do not consider your bond-servant a useless woman, for I have spoken until now out of my great concern and provocation.’”

This is the most telling part of the whole experience: Hannah defends herself by pointing out that she had also actually “spoken.” She doesn’t tell Eli that she was merely “praying silently.” In fact, she doesn’t even even describe when she “poured out her soul” as being prayer. Instead, she makes her case on the basis of the fact that she had literally spoken her prayers aloud.

17 “Then Eli answered and said, ‘Go in peace; and may the God of Israel grant your request that you have asked of Him.’ 18 She said, ‘Let your bond-servant find favor in your sight.’ So the woman went on her way and ate, and her face was no longer sad. 19 Then they got up early in the morning and worshiped before the LORD, and returned again to their house in Ramah. And Elkanah had relations with Hannah his wife, and the LORD remembered her.”

Hannah’s vow was honored, her prayers were answered, and her soul’s outpouring was graced with a child. It all worked together for the glory of God. But using Hannah’s experience as the lone basis for the dogma of silent prayer is tenuous, as Hannah herself argued that her prayer had been spoken.

Eliezer’s Prayer to His Heart

We’ve already seen that Hannah’s prayer wasn’t entirely silent. That usually leaves the proponents of silent prayer rapidly searching for other proof texts. In their searches, the story of Eliezer’s prayer sometimes pops up. In some English translations, Genesis 24:45 occasionally reads like this: “Before I had finished praying silently, there was Rebekah coming with her jug on her shoulder…” (this is from the Holman Christian Standard Bible). The problem here is translation. And silence actually contradicts what was said earlier in the story. I’ll detail Genesis 24’s text here:

12 “And he said, ‘LORD, God of my master Abraham, please grant me success today, and show kindness to my master Abraham. 13 Behold, I am standing by the spring, and the daughters of the men of the city are coming out to draw water; 14 now may it be that the young woman to whom I say, “Please let down your jar so that I may drink,” and who answers, “Drink, and I will water your camels also” — may she be the one whom You have appointed for Your servant Isaac; and by this I will know that You have shown kindness to my master.’ 15 And it came about, before he had finished speaking, that behold, Rebekah, who was born to Bethuel the son of Milcah, the wife of Abraham’s brother Nahor, came out with her jar on her shoulder.”

Verse 12 uses the verb “said” — not thought nor meditated. That may be discounted as vernacular (though it’s not), so we ought to also note that verse 15 specifically says that “he had finished speaking,” which clearly indicates that Eliezer’s prayer was spoken. With that established, let’s jump forward to the key verses about Eliezer’s alleged silent prayer. In these, Eliezer is recounting the tale of meeting Rebekah:

42 “So I came today to the spring, and said, ‘LORD, God of my master Abraham, if now You will make my journey on which I have been going successful; 43 behold, I am standing by the spring, and may it be that the young unmarried woman who comes out to draw water, and to whom I say, “Please let me drink a little water from your jar”; 44 and she says to me, “You drink, and I will draw for your camels also” — let her be the woman whom the LORD has appointed for my master’s son.’ 45 “Before I had finished speaking in my heart, behold, Rebekah came out with her jar on her shoulder, and went down to the spring and drew water, and I said to her, ‘Please let me drink.’”

Verse 45 includes the line that is occasionally translated to imply silence. The above text is from the New American Standard Bible. Read from our cultural perspective wherein silent prayer is both an existent construct and considered normal, this lone verse can seem like it’s contradicting the earlier descriptions of the story (vs. 12-15) and an example of silent prayer. However, this English translation is inaccurate and showing its translators’ bias.

The preposition translated here as “in my heart” is actually the Hebrew “el-”, which generally means to, toward, or against. The correct Hebrew prepositional prefix for “in” is “b-”. The correctly translated “b-” prepositional prefix is used in Psalm 14:1’s description of an atheistic fool’s thought; “The fool has said in his heart, ‘There is no God.’”

In Eliezer’s reflection on his own prayer, some translators have taken tremendous liberties. If the passage truly meant “in my heart” (as the atheist ponders in Psalm 14:1), it would use the “b-” prefix. But it doesn’t. Instead, it uses the formal “el-” preposition which literally means “to my heart.” This is borne out in more hyper-literal translations, such as Young’s and the JPS Tanakh 1917. Such translations more accurately phrase this verse as “speaking [un]to my heart.” Hebraically, one’s heart (lev) is also one’s will and intent. From the Hebrew, we see that Eliezer wasn’t praying silently. Rather, He was praying aloud and “speaking to his heart/will.”

Due to the Hebrew text being clear, I didn’t cover Eliezer’s prayer in the video above, but perhaps I should have. People have strong, and often irrational, allegiances to specific translations. If your preferred translation says Eliezer prayed silently and you choose to ignore the original Hebrew text, the rest of the story, and historical scholarship, you could use this one verse (Genesis 24:45) as a lone proof text for the dogma of silent prayer. If you’re comfortable basing dogma and practices on a few distinct English translations of one verse plucked from its textual and historic context, I won’t stand in your way. There’s certainly no harm in God-oriented thoughts. Nevertheless, I would encourage you to also make verbal, audible prayer a routine part of your life.

Cited Works:

Knohl, I. (1996). Between Voice and Silence: The Relationship between Prayer and Temple Cult. Journal of Biblical Literature, 115(1), 17–30. https://doi.org/10.2307/3266816

Lehtonen, T. (2007). Verbal, Silent, and Nonverbal Religion: Philosophical Remarks on the Necessity and Absence of Religious Language. The Pluralist, 2(3), 100–119. http://www.jstor.org/stable/20708917

Montiglio, S. (2000). Silence in the Land of Logos. Princeton University Press. http://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt7rm5c

Van der Horst, P. W. (1994). Silent Prayer in Antiquity. Numen, 41(1), 1–25. https://doi.org/10.2307/3270411