Tempus fugit as they say; especially in the Church liturgical calendar.
Hopefully, by now, we have put away the Christmas decorations and, in spite of our best intention and solemn promises to our selves not to, we have eaten up the rest of the Christmas baking because we could not bear to see our hard labors go to waste.
It was barely three weeks ago that we celebrated the birth of Jesus in that animal shed in Bethlehem.
Two weeks ago, we travelled with the Magi to find Jesus who was thought to be about two years of age at that time.
And, one week ago, (had we not been deterred by freezing rain) we would have heard the story of Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan River, almost immediately before beginning his public ministry at about 30 years of age. This coming Sunday, he will begin the calling of his disciples, starting with Andrew and Simon.
Time indeed does fly and in our own lives, things are not so different.
As we scurry towards Lent, we might find ourselves needing to rest a little, slow time down and reflect on where we might be heading in our personal lives.
This led me to thoughts about silence, or sacred silence. Silence needs to be understood in a larger way than simply a lack of audible noise. Whenever emptiness (or what seems like empty space or lack of sound) is embraced and allowed to become its own kind of fullness, we can experience sacred silence. It is in this place of silence that we are able to embrace the depth and the power of prayer - that space where we are free to encounter both peace and joy and to experience the divine.
For me, Jesus had the right idea when he said, adapted from Matthew 6: 6 The Message (MSG)
6 “Here’s what I want you to do: Find a quiet, secluded place so you won’t be tempted to role-play before God. Just be there, (in silence), as simply and honestly as you can manage. The focus will shift from you to God, and you will begin to sense God’s grace.
From now until Lent, I wish you the blessings which can be found in the sounds of silence.
In peace,
Beryl