Confronting our own silences, and listening to ourselves, eventually moves us toward listening to other, previously unheard silences. To the silences in many who have had to quiet the expressive parts of themselves. To the silences of children, too often "shushed" as having nothing to contribute. To the silences of Earth, in its land and air and water, so often in pain where we have abused it, as well as to the faulty systems, structures, and customs that reinforce such troubling silence. As our listening deepens, we inevitably touch the Center of all stillness. In the midst of all the silences, we become able to hear the quiet Presence of the One who loves us, cherishes us, needs us... We meet the Holy Mystery whose listening to us is the primordial power, hearing us into speech.
You, neighbor God, when I disturb with heavy raps your quiet during a lonely night, it is because I rarely hear You breathe, though know: You're in your room alone. And while in need, there's no one there to bring your groping hand a drink. But I am listening. Just give me a sign. I am close by.
Eternal spirit of Justice and Love,
At this time of thanksgiving we would be aware
of our dependence on the earth and
on the sustaining presence of other human beings.
both living and gone before us.
As we partake of bread and wine,
may we remember that there are many
for whom sufficient bread is a luxury, or
for whom wine, when attainable,
is only an escape.
Let our thanksgiving for Life's bounty
include a commitment to changing the world,
that those who are now hungry may be filled,
and those without hope may be given courage.
