spring

The following excerpt is from the deeply moving story of Oliver written by his brother, Christopher de Vinck, who discovered through Oliver's life THE POWER OF POWERLESSNESS:

For thirty-three years Oliver lived in an upstairs bedroom, a child of light, a true innocent who never caused any trouble, never broke a commandment, never wronged another human being. Mother was confined to the house, alone and without the support of relatives or friends ... "This enforced seclusion was difficult for me; I had a restless, seeking spirit. Through a solitude where I could 'prepare the way of the Lord.' Sorrow opened my heart, and I 'died.' I underwent this 'death' unaware that it was a trial by fire from which I would rise renewed -- more powerfully, more consciously alive ... If there is a silence that is opaque and a solitude that is a prison, there is also a silence that is luminous and a solitude that is blessed terrain where the seeds of prayer can grow."

That is not to suggest that we can live harmlessly, or strictly at our own expense; we depend upon other creatures and survive by their deaths. To live, we must daily break the body and shed the blood of Creation. When we do this knowingly, lovingly, skillfully, reverently, it is a sacrament. When we do it ignorantly, greedily, clumsily, destructively, it is a desecration. In such desecration we condemn ourselves to spiritual and moral loneliness, and others to want.

One area where we probably often have the chance to be aware of our duplicity is in our speech. We talk so much. How much of what we say do we mean? How much of what we mean do we say? How much does what we say really mean? Suppose one undertook the discipline, well known in monastic tradition, of speaking only what one knew was GIVEN to one to speak? How quiet our homes, our dining rooms, even our churches and places of worship would be. Our society plays very loose with words, with talk; but there is little silence, and silence is where meaning comes from.

We received a beautiful letter from Jean Vanier sharing his reflections on retreat as he celebrated his sixtieth birthday and the 25th anniversary of the L'Arche communities. He writes in part:

Sixty years is a turning point in life, and I am trying to prepare for it. I know that after sixty we begin to lose strength. I ask Jesus to help me grow old as He wants. If to disappear, how to trust others more, how to live with less power, but more from the grace of Jesus and the poor and to be more centered in prayer. In my prayer here I have a deeper desire to do the will of God, to be a friend and a servant of Jesus, and to let Jesus penetrate more and more into my whole being. Often my prayer has been just that: inviting Jesus to come with Light and Love into all the darkest, most hidden corners of my being.

Father, to you I raise my whole being,
-- a vessel emptied of self. Accept, Lord,
this my emptiness, and so fill me with
Yourself -- Your light, Your Love, Your
Life -- that these Your precious Gifts
may radiate through me and over-
flow the chalice of my heart into
the hearts of all whom I
come in contact this day,
revealing unto them
the beauty of
Your Joy
and Wholeness
and
the
serenity
Of Your Peace
which nothing can destroy.

"If two or more people love one another deeply, they may come to that profound level of awareness and mind-expansion in which no words are necessary because their intimacy is not built on words. And the stronger the love, the more profound will be the silence and the deeper will be the enlightenment. Furthermore, if this love goes to the core of their being, it brings a realization of something more than the people involved -- it brings a consciousness of the all; it contains an element of universality."

"The property of love is never to seek self, to keep back nothing, but to give everything to the one it loves. Blessed the soul that loves; the Lord has become its captive through love!"

A Morning Prayer: O Beloved of my heart, give me grace today to recognize the stirrings of your Spirit within my soul and to listen most attentively to all that You have to say to me. Let not the noises of the world so confuse me, that I cannot hear your Voice. Help me not to deceive myself as to the meaning of your Word; and so let me in all things surrender myself into your hands, through the grace of Christ's Love. Amen.

The mystery IS Christ among you -- Christ in me, Christ in you, Christ between us. The root word of mystery in Greek is SILENCE, which is also related to secret. One way we come to know ourselves is by naming our reality, our experience: I am mystery ... I am sacrament ... I am silence ... I am secret ... I am treasure ... I am temple of the Holy Spirit...

"If you but knew the gift of God and who it is that speaks to you, in you ..." John 4:10 We are invited in the silence to discover the hidden mystery of Christ ... we are invited in the silence to delve so deeply into our inner beings that we become new beings!

Silence is a green, secluded garden,
Where you may walk at leisure, and
speak with the Beloved ...
Leaving the outer world of noise and hurry
To walk serenely on prayer's holy sod.

Silence is a garden sweet with fragrance,
Its grasses nurtured by faith's gentle rain,
Its every bloom a link with God,
our Creator.

Once you have wandered there,
you will return again,
And in the garden's beauty,
be made whole ...
In the Silence,
the quiet garden of the Soul.