SILENCE IS SPOKEN HERE (WITH VIDEO)
(The title for this blog I took from placards that was placed on the dining room tables.)Sunday January 12, 2014 12:56 pm
I'm
home now and I just put on a pot of fresh coffee, and when that's
done I'm going to add Baileys crème brulee coffee creamer, toast a
bagel and butter it with sour cream and chives and then cut myself a
nice wedge of some cheese I bought which was made by the monks
outside of New Haven, Kentucky. And for dessert for my breakfast
foods I'm going to eat a cookie that was made by Sisters of St.
Benedict of Ferdinand, Indiana. (These cookies are called, Hildegard
cookies.) Then, as I eat I will take notice that the house is quiet
and I'm alone with my thoughts... and in-turn I will write about a
few things I learned during my brief respite at the Abbey of
Gethsemani.
Because
it's in my heart to say some good things about my experiences there I
suppose I must dutifully say a few other things first. I did not
before I went there agree with much that the Roman Catholic Church
teaches... and I still do not: Transubstantiation, men confessing
their sins to other men, baptism of babies, Ex Cathedra and Papal
decrees, the myth of Mary being a perpetual virgin, Purgatory, High
or low mass, the non-assurance of salvation, etc. etc. etc. If I
tried at all I could easily come up with another dozen things that
the Roman Catholic church does which is either extra-Biblical and
(or) in many, many cases, anti-Biblical! There, for any who knows me
and might read what I write today do not imagine I will be sitting in
some Roman Catholic rite of Mass someday... for I will not! However,
there are a few comments I want to make about some of the monks I
observed and spoke with. And, yes, in certain areas of the grounds
talking is permissible (even with the monks) and I took advantage of
that.
For
any who does not know me well, yet might take notice of the rough way
I have... and at times still live it might come as a surprise to
them that I like poetry. Not all poetry, but just those poems that
seem to have many different and layered meaning to their prose. As I
watched the monks walk about in their self imposed solitary lives I
recalled a line from something that Emily Dickinson had written. In
life, Emily Dickinson was a recluse: therefore a lot of her work
wrote of dark and gloomy things: yet, some of her work I liked a lot.
I
could only recall two lines so as soon as I crossed the road and was
deeper into the woods I used my smart phone and found the complete
verse I was searching my mind for:
Growth
of Man, like growth of Nature –
Gravitates
within –
Atmosphere,
and Sun, endorse it –
But
it stir – alone –
Each
– its difficult Ideal
Must
achieve – Itself –
Through
the solitary prowess
Of
a Silent Life
The
words from Dickinson I kept recalling as I watched these men were:
“Through the solitary prowess of a silent life.”
Although
I always admired the true stoics and Ascetics, and if for no better
reason than my life seemed more in line with a hedonist... and it
seemed beyond my comprehension that any person would willingly give
up the life of a hedonist in pursuit of either of the other two
schools of philosophy. Yet, I still admired men who could do that.
However, I always looked at such men as living wasted lives! For
example: many men who have chosen to live as monks have much training
and great formal education. Most of them can speak, read, write and
(or) translate in several languages. Among these languages are Greek,
Hebrew, Aramaic, Latin, etc.
So,
I used to imagine these men, who in the world would be professors,
doctors, philosophers etc. as giving up everything to do the menial
work they do. And they do these works in contemplative silence: paint
walls, tend gardens, wash dishes, make cheese and a thousand other
things that men with little education and much less ability would
normally be found doing. And I would always wonder, “Why?”
“What's the point?”
Then,
as I watched them pass me with arms folded and nod politely I kept
recalling those lines from that poem. So, I did as I am want to do
when I need to think... I went to the woods. I used to imagine those
words from that poem only applied to nature, like a tree. Perhaps a
thousand different times in my walks I would put my hands on a
magnificent tree and look up a hundred feet into the air. (Of course
that is only because of the part of the country I live in. Were I in
California I could look up at some giant Redwoods that climb to
nearly 400 feet tall!) As I would grasp the tree and look up I would
try to “feel” the tree growing! Of course I never could, yet it
does, and is growing... yet it makes no sound whatsoever! (THROUGH
THE SOLITARY PROWESS OF A SILENT LIFE!)
As
I walked the woods yesterday I was trying to think of other things
that are quiet, yet powerful... through silence. I Kings 19:11-12 –
God is speaking to Elijah: “And he said, Go forth, and stand upon
the mount before the Lord.
And, behold, the Lord
passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake
in pieces the rocks before the Lord;
but the Lord was not in
the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord
was not in the earthquake: And after the earthquake a fire; but the
Lord was not in the
fire: and after the fire a still small voice.”
When
Elijah looked for God... where was He? He was not found in the mighty
wind, nor the great earthquake, neither a raging fire... but in a
“... still small voice...” God was found in the quiet thoughts,
and in the silent heart and mind of Elijah. (THROUGH THE SOLITARY
PROWESS OF A SILENT LIFE!)
“And
the scribes and Pharisees brought unto him a woman taken in adultery;
and when they had set her in the midst, They say unto him, Master,
this woman was taken in adultery, in the very act. Now Moses in the
law commanded us, that such should be stoned: but what sayest thou?
This they said, tempting him, that they might have to accuse him. But
Jesus stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the ground, as
though he heard them not. So when they continued asking him, he
lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among
you, let him first cast a stone at her. And again he stooped down,
and wrote on the ground. And they which heard it, being convicted by
their own conscience, went out one by one, beginning at the eldest,
even unto the last: and Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing
in the midst. When Jesus had lifted up himself, and saw none but the
woman, he said unto her, Woman, where are those thine accusers? hath
no man condemned thee? She said, No man, Lord. And Jesus said unto
her, Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more.” Twice,
the Lord said nothing... simply stooped to write on the ground, and
in silence He rebuked them and, “ … one by one … they walked
away. (THROUGH THE SOLITARY PROWESS OF A SILENT LIFE!)
Never
again will I only imagine that nature alone holds the truth that
there can be great power in silence... though I so wish their
doctrine was different, for I greatly fear for their mortal souls!
Yet, I don't suppose I will ever again look at a monk and imagine
through silence their life is wasted and they have no power: for I
now believe that in this life, there are men – even as trees who
exhibit: “solitary prowess through a silent life!”
posted by Robin Johnson @ 12:56 PM
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