We sat in silence for some time. It is a very, very difficult thing to do -- to sit in silence. Our world is filled with sounds, and we've come to feel that we must fill any void we encounter with our voices, or the radio, or the TV; almost anything will do, as long as we're not burdened by deafening silence. But there is a special beauty, I was coming to see, a special peace in quiet that is beyond words or the trappings of this world. But, oh, it is so difficult not to speak!
To "listen" another's soul into a condition of disclosure and discovery may be almost the greatest service that any human being ever performs for another. But in this scrutiny of the business of listening, is that all that has emerged? Is it blasphemous to suggest that over the shoulder of the human listener, there is never absent the silent presence of the Eternal Listener, the living God? For in penetrating to what is involved in listening, do we not disclose the thinness of the filament that separates person listening openly to one another, and that of God intently listening to each soul?