But what is the point of silence? The point was, we learned, not mere silence, not silence to preserve some sort of order, but something much greater. In silence the idea was to recollect ourselves, to place ourselves more squarely in the presence of God than we would if people were talking to us all the time. We could pray, we could meditate, we could contemplate. . . . Silence was broken, of course, by people doing things they could not control -- coughing, sneezing, short periods of recreation, the sounds of work being done . . . But all of this merely emphasized the silence rather than disturbing it. Sounds could never absorb this silence; nothing could order it around. It concentrated itself, and from it all else flowed. Silence could never be silenced.
We all belong in the heart of God. We belong in God; that is where our heart has its home. In God's heart we always find what we need: attentiveness, the responsiveness, the safe haven for our vulnerable selves. We all belong in the heart of God.
We all belong to God, not as a possession to be grasped, but as a partner in a loving union in which we become free and vibrantly alive. We all belong in the heart of God. Everyone belongs, for we journey together and we are who we are by virtue of our belonging to one another.