Monday 19 October 2009
I had always hoped that in the evening of life, when the tyranny of hustle and bustle had ceased, I might find time to simply be. Nothing much to do except to love and be loved, to simply let time stand still. I’m thinking on a very human level but thinking too, I hope, on that level where God is at the heights and depths of my being.
I still treasure the beads around which I have travelled so many times, but now as the shadows lengthen, the impatience for getting through and the fever for finishing is no longer an option. I have opted instead for what Pope Paul VI called the lingering pace of prayer . I just want to linger in love with the Lord.
I want to write something about how the round of the beads and the pondering of the mysteries can become stepping stones to silence, to solitude and to stillness. There is healing for soul and body in this search for stillness.
Once as I was about to begin Mass a lady in distress came to see me. There was little I could do in the few moments before walking out on the altar, so I invited her to come round when Mass was over. During the Offertory, the organist played the Sibelius piece to which the verses below have been attached. The splendour of the music moved me deeply and touched something above and beyond. At the end of the service, the lady herself came round to say, that she was fine and needed no further help. The message that sounded from the organ playing supplied all she wanted. "Waves of stillness and splendour swept over me, as the Finlandia music, as it is known, sounded through the church.”
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