Aug 2016 The Road to Daybreak A Spiritual Journey by Henri J M Nouwen

(Continue from) Being Silent with Friends   Back in Cambridge, the thought keeps coming to me that it is as important to be silent with friends as to speak with them. Seeing so many people and talking with them about all that has happened and is happening to them often leaves me with a sense of not really being together. The exchange of countless details about people's lives can often create more distance than closeness. Words are important in order to come close, but too many words create distance. I feel an increasing desire to be silent with friends. Not every event has to be told, not every idea has to be exchanged. Once an atmosphere of mutual trust is present, we can be silent together and let the Lord be the one who speaks, gently and softly. Listening together to Jesus is a very powerful way to grow closer to each other and reach a level of intimacy that no interpersonal exchange of words can bring about. A silence lived together in the presence of Jesus will also continue to bear many fruits in the future. It seems as if a caring silence can enter deeper into our memory than many caring words. Maybe not always, but certainly often. But to create this silence requires much spiritual work. It is not the most obvious style for a reunion! And still, it may be the most blessed. I will try to put this conviction into practice in the days to come. Welcoming the Child   "Anyone who welcomes a little child such as this in my name welcomes me; and anyone who welcomes me, welcomes not me but the one who sent me." (Mark 9:37). What does welcoming a little child mean? It means giving loving attention to those who are often overlooked. I imagine myself standing in line to meet a very important person and noticing a little child passing by. Would I leave the line and pay all my attention to this child? I imagine myself going to a grand party where I will meet very interesting and powerful people. Could I forget about the party to sit on the street for a few hours with a man who stretches out his hands and asks me for some money? I imagine myself being invited to receive an award. Could I let the honour go to spend the time with a depressed, elderly woman who is forgotten by her friends and feels isolated in her apartment? Yesterday I was stopped on the street by a beggar. He asked me for some change to buy a bite to eat. He didn't expect any response, but when I gave him ten dollars he jumped up and said, "Thank you, thank you very, very much." He was extremely surprised by this large gift, but I suddenly felt a deep sadness. I was on my way to a meeting I did not want to miss. My gift was an excuse for walking on. I had not welcomed the beggar - I had just tried to feel generous. My "generosity" had revealed my deep resistance toward welcoming the "little child."

- To Be Continued - © Copyright Shalom 2016. All rights reserved.