A legend told by the Venerable Bede says that the poet Caedmon was once completely mute. It was a custom in his village to spend evenings taking turns reciting poetry. On these occasions, Caedmon, unable to speak, would steal away to nearby hills to escape. One evening while walking alone, an angel appeared and urged him to sing. Miraculously, he began to sing and went on the become a famous poet.
The divine mystery is not a collection of problems. As the mystics keep chanting, it is a light so bright that it blinds us, that we are bound to experience it as darkness. To become intimate with it, we have to "unknow" worldly knowledge. We have to give up our tendency to assault it as we would a problem, learning to wait patiently for it to reveal itself as an intimate, at times even shy and vulnerable, lover. . . . The mystery never fails to nourish and heal me. I know that my spirit has been made to contemplate it, to love it as the central reality and treasure of my being. It is my lever for moving the world.
It is not vast quantities of mechanical work that appeals to the Divine, but it is the link with the divine consciousness established through that work that matters. This consideration of the spirit in which the work is done is of the utmost relevance to all of us who want to progress toward divine consciousness. When one is conscious during work, that quality of consciousness is naturally imparted to what one is working with or upon. Such work retains the vibration of that person and they link others immediately with that cause.
