But the silence in the mind
is when we live best, within
listening distance of the silence we call God…
It is a presence, then,
whose margins are our margins; that call us out over our
own fathoms.
It's the eve of Advent which is a season of depth and waiting, of promise, hope and patience. Just as the frantic frenetic fanaticism of fundamentalist consumerism reaches its fantastic fever pitches of greed and getting, I welcome not an excuse, but a reason, to find time and space for silence and ungrasping.
And yes, that last sentence is overwrought and over-written, but it tries to describe a culture that is equally overwrought and precisely at this time of year descends into the chaos of hyper-consumerism.
So these words of R S Thomas draw me towards the mystery of that which cannot be purchased; remind me of a grace that has no barcode, and gives access to the Good and all goods without a credit rating. And Thomas recognises that the depths of human longing and hoping reverberate with the presence and promise of God, that we are beings with our own unfathomable reaches, beyond our ken but within the knowing of a love eternal and constant.
The photo was taken on the Fort William road, the reflection of the hills over the depths of the loch an icon of the human being, the reflected image of God. A place that invites us to come within listening distance of the silence of God.
Veni Emmanuel.
s
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