At a certain pitch of religious experience, the heart just wants to sing; it breaks into song. Paradoxically, you could say when silence finds its fullness, it comes to word. As the Book of Wisdom says, "When night in its swift course had reached its halfway point and deep silence embraced everything" -- when night was at its darkest and deepest -- there "the eternal Word leaped from the Heavenly throne": silence burst into song.
Life is not hurrying on to a receding future, nor hankering after an imagined past. It
is the turning aside like Moses to the miracle of the lit bush, to a brightness that
seemed as transitory as your youth once, but is the eternity that awaits you.
... the silence in the mind is when we live best, within listening distance of the silence we call God ... It is a presence, then, whose margins are our margins; that calls us out over our own fathoms.
What to do, but to draw a little nearer to such ubiquity by remaining still?
