Book Review: The Power of Silence

Robert Cardinal Sarah and Nicolas Diat,
The Power of Silence: Against the Dictatorship of Noise
Ignatius Press, 249p.

This book has generated a fair amount of comment and recommendation since its release in April. I picked it up a few months ago and recently finished it. I’m currently waiting for my wife to finish it so I can read it again.

Cardinal Sarah was born in Guinea, West Africa. Made an Archbishop by Pope John Paul II and a Cardinal by Pope Benedict XVI, he was named the Prefect of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments by Pope Francis in 2014. He speaks about silence with impressive depth.

“This is the tragedy of the modern world: man separates himself from God because he no longer believes in the value of silence.”

p. 80

This is not another “social media is destroying our world” book. There is some talk of technology, but that is not the focus. Cardinal Sarah looks much deeper into who we are, who God is, and how we enter into his presence.

One of the gleanings from this book was discovering the Carthusian order. These monks live mostly silent, contemplative lives in prayer. If you want to spend a few hours getting a feel for how they live, check out Into Great Silence.

There are many challenging pages in this book, and as many enlightening ones. His views on poverty were new to me, but profound.

“Most of our troubles result from some form of lack of poverty.”

p. 171

Sarah draws a distinction between being poor and being destitute. To be poor is to have little; to be destitute is to not have what you need. He points to the blessings of poverty, as espoused by Jesus, as an example of the necessity of simplicity and silence. The two concepts really go hand in hand.

While not a polemic against the entertainment industry, he does have some hard words concerning our cultures, especially in the West.

“Modern existence is a propped-up life built entirely on noise, artificiality, and the tragic rejection of God…societies are sworn to an implacable hatred of silence, which they regard as a contemptible, backward defeat.”

p. 173

If you fail to notice this — because you are swimming in it — take a week in the woods without being plugged in and then walk into a shopping mall or airport terminal in the United States. The amount of screens and noise is startling. Our society constantly vies for our attention in order to catechize us into libertine consumers.

But the problem is not just our need to unplug and close the door. That is the beginning of the struggle.

“Our interior temple is often so ugly that we prefer to live on the outside of ourselves in order to hide in worldly devices and noises.”

p. 210

We are used to using noise (be it audio, visual, or both) to distract ourselves from ourselves. When the noise goes away, we are left with our self, and forced to see what is really going on inside of us. This can be very uncomfortable. It is also vitally necessary.

I experienced this the summer between high school and college working in a factory where one of my tasks was to stack  thin pieces of metal on a machine and watch while it welded them together. With my earplugs in, I couldn’t hear anything, and the work was dreadfully boring. It forced me into myself in a very uncomfortable way that I did not appreciate at the time. Looking back on it, it was in those interminable hours that I came to some clarity that helped me set my course going forward in life.

“We seek silence because we seek God.”

p. 193

This is the bottom line of the book. If you are seeking after God, this is a book worth reading. If you find that more podcasts, videos, and seminars are not bringing you closer to God or enabling you to live the life you want, I would recommend this book. Cardinal Sarah has given us a gift in this book. We owe it to ourselves to take some (quiet) moments to read and reflect upon it.

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This book is also bound very well for a paperback. It has integrated end-flaps that work well as bookmarks and it has sewn folios that are glued into the binding. What that means is the pages aren’t going to start falling out anytime soon and if you wear the cover off, you can have it rebound.

Reflection

You have to be still to reflect. The stiller you are, the better reflection you give. My wife reminded me of these words on a recent walk along the Puget Sound. The particular inlet we were walking next to was particularly still and we could see reflections of the opposite shore.

The proper thing for me to do at this point would be to quit writing and let you reflect. You are certainly under no obligation to continue. In fact, to do so may be counter-productive.

The purpose of a book of meditations is to teach you how to think and not to do your thinking for you. Consequently if you pick up such a book and simply read it through, you are wasting your time. As soon as any thought stimulates your mind or your heart you can put the book down because meditation has begun. To think that you are somehow obliged to follow the author of the book to his own particular conclusion would be a great mistake.

Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation, p. 215

Authors have different goals than readers. My goal this year is to produce 500 words per day on this blog. I have no idea what your goal of reading it may be. Even if your goal hasn’t been reflection, I hope that something here has sparked that within you. Few things are more necessary, or more endangered, than quiet reflection. This TED Talk on how to find your calling underscores the necessity of quiet reflection.

As colleges and universities are busy indoctrinating their incoming freshman into whatever it is they think is important through the increasingly popular freshman seminars, I wonder what would happen if instead of team building games and diversity presentations, they merely took away all electronics and made the campus quiet for a week. My hunch is that there would either be open revolt or a step toward some meaningful transformation within the lives of the students.

Mary, the mother of Jesus, had a weighty task: to raise the Son of God. Why this particular girl? How did she manage it? God’s grace overshadows the whole enterprise of the incarnation, but perhaps one small contributing factor is revealed in Luke 2:19. Mary is only one of two people who are revealed in the New Testament to have pondered. (Peter in Acts 10 is the other.) I’m sure other pondering occurred in Bible times, but Luke was inspired to make sure we knew that Mary pondered the events surrounding Jesus’ birth. She was still and she reflected the grace of God.

We are not grace, light, truth, or love by ourselves. We only reflect these from their source. To reflect well, we must be still, quiet, at peace. Everything around us wars against that end. To the extent the challenges to our quiet reflection are successful, our capacity to reflect grace, light, truth, and love is diminished. May God make us sensitive and protect us so that we may reflect upon him and reflect him.

Shhhhhh…

I am an introvert. What does that mean? It means different things for different people. For me, being introverted and being analytical are interwoven. I am quiet and reserved because I observe and think. There is usually a lot going on in my head.

Being analytical has served me well, though. It enables me to plan, break down problems, and develop strategies. It can also be exhausting. If I am sitting in a room with a lot going on, I find it very hard to focus. My wife, also an introvert, does not have this problem. I am jealous of her ability to tune out the world around her while reading a book. To me, all sensory input must be processed.

This has ramifications for home and work. At work, it means cubicles and open floor plans are one step up from being boiled in oil. In such environments, I am less productive and any productivity I have takes focused effort. It’s not that I can’t participate in collaborative work. I can discuss plans and problems with a team, but when the session is over, I’m still thinking about it, sometimes for hours.

Work this past week has been noisy on both fronts. We’ve been in a different workspace with much less privacy; my workstation is in a room with up to 8 other people in it. Add to that, we’ve been doing planning and analysis for some very unpleasant contingencies. I’ve been coming home very tired. My mind has been mulling over “what-if’s” and “how will we’s” in addition to normal work stuff. It’s part of why I haven’t blogged as much this week. I’ve been drained, and most of what I’ve been focused on isn’t within the scope of this blog.

But this isn’t just a personal issue. I wonder at my co-workers. Who else is being sucked dry just because we are in a different setting? Because the normal routine is altered? I imagine it is not just people exactly like me. It may be those who need a consistent workplace or routine to be effective. On the other hand, I imagine some are probably energized by the change of venue and schedule.

Fortunately, I have a very understanding wife, partly because we are alike in a lot of ways. We both value order and quiet. We like to talk, but we are also comfortable being quiet together. The things that make our house pleasant for her do the same for me.

It is also fortunate that introversion has become more understood in our society recently. Susan Cain’s book, Quiet Revolution, has been a key in this new awareness, but it is still up to us to find ways to survive in an extroverted world. I’m not advocating for introvert rights (though I can dream) as much as trying to navigate our world as an introvert.

Our society rails against us with a bias toward extroverts and the mantra to be “agile and adaptable.” What if instead, we have people who produce well in a “paced and predictable” environment? We may not be able to control the world, but we can shape our corner of it.

As a second-order effect of this past week — and the anticipation of next week being like it — I’m considering how to stay energized and creative in the midst of those things that drain me. I will take all opportunities I can to recharge in quiet, peaceful environments. Isaiah 30:15 could well be one of my life verses:

For thus said the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel,
“In returning and rest you shall be saved;
in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.”

Subversive

I may have genuinely scared someone. It came up in conversation the other day that I do not have a television and the look of shock on his face could not have been more if I told him I was a cannibal. It’s not something I broadcast much, but neither is it something I hide.

It started years ago, in varying degrees, and has been consistent for at least the last 12 years or so. Our early motivation was time. Television took away time that we could spend on other things, like playing with or reading to our kids. Watching television took away our kids’ time to do other things as well.

With distance comes perspective. Over the years, we realized that with no longer watching television, we were no longer being programed by it. Our ideas and attitudes were no longer being shaped by those who wished to exploit us for their own financial (and ideological) gain.

This same impulse now leads us to question our online world. We have reduced our social media consumption and we don’t use television alternatives such as Hulu or Netflix. The internet is better, and worse, than television. The wisdom of the ages and unfiltered depravity are both but a few keystrokes away.

I could not have put the words to it all those years ago, but it is a monastic impulse. A desire to restrict input in order to focus more on God. We only have so much time and attention to give. Just like the livestock of a farmer, our time is a limited commodity, and as the Scriptures teach us, the best of our flocks and fields should be dedicated to the Lord.

Those who look at monasticism as an escape from reality understand neither reality or monasticism. Those who pursue it as a retreat from the world are soon disappointed. Having to deal with the reality of your own sin without distractions is not for those seeking an easier experience.

I learned this lesson involuntarily the summer between high school and college. I had sin to deal with and decisions to make and I was working in a factory. Much of the time there was the din of the top-40 radio station to keep me from my thoughts, but often enough I was running one particular machine that was noisy enough to drown it out. It was boring to operate. Stack the pieces and wait while the machine welded them together.

Working on that machine was my first experience of sustained self-reflection. Alone and surrounded by the white noise of the machine, I had nothing but my thoughts. It was not easy. I had made many poor choices in high school and I knew the extent of my sin. My life was on the brink of significant change, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to take the leap.

In retrospect, it was a healing time for me. Not as much as it could have been if I had had some guidance on prayer for such times, but in his grace, God used it. By the end of the summer, I was ready for a new start. I had taken the time to consider where I had been and what I had done.

Such reflection does not occur in front of a screen. Even the pages of a book can be a hinderance. There is nothing magical about the printed page; there is as much garbage available there as on television. The one advantage of paper is that if your mind wanders off, the page waits and doesn’t try to pull you back in. There is no flicker, flash, and noise.

To live this way—switched off—in our culture is subversive. It goes against the prevailing modes of existence and challenges the assumptions of the mass. Seeking to follow God has always cut across the grain of society and power. May we embrace the call to be set apart.

You shall have no other gods before me.

Exodus 20:3 (ESV)

Nowhere to Run

We are out of land. Not as a country, as a planet. For most of human history, it was possible to go into the woods, over the mountains, or across the ocean and stake out a new homestead, settlement, or colony. Within the last hundred years (maybe 150), that is no longer the case. So, what are the implications?

On the surface, it means the earth is filling up. Google tells me we are at 7.4 billion people currently, which is almost double the population when I was born. Scholars and politicians have been wringing their hands about this for some time, but I’m not interested in the demographics for this post. The more metaphysical effect is the practical end to utopian and escapist plans, conspiracies, and dreams. Minorities and disenfranchised peoples have no where to go that isn’t already occupied so now they must either fight or submit.

For Christians that means that the new Jerusalem is now firmly not of this world and perhaps that is not all bad. We are forced to separate our faith from any nationalistic aspirations. No more Calvin’s Geneva. No more Holy Roman Empire. Instead of building a city on a hill, we face an ever increasing possibility of being driven underground. Even my “go plant a monastery” daydreams are increasingly thwarted as hostility toward religious organizations in the United States by federal and local governments make it seem less likely.

None of this surprises God. His perspective is much higher than ours.

Am I a God at hand, declares the LORD, and not a God far away? Can a man hide himself in secret places so that I cannot see him? declares the LORD. Do I not fill heaven and earth? declares the LORD.

Jeremiah 23:23-24 (ESV)

The Lord is responsible for filling heaven and earth and he is not surprised that there are 7.4 billion people on the planet. It thwarts no plan of God that we cannot band together and try to start a new colony somewhere. In fact, it is part of his plan.

We are forced to be salt and light to those around us. It might be uncomfortable and humbling, but we can’t run and hide. Thomas Merton provides good insight into solitude:

But the only justification for a life of deliberate solitude is the conviction that it will help you to love not only God but also other men. If you go into the desert merely to get away from people you dislike, you will find neither peace nor solitude; you will only isolate yourself with a tribe of devils.

New Seeds of Contemplation, p. 52

And a little later he writes,

But if you try to escape from this world merely by leaving the city and hiding yourself in solitude, you will only take the city with you into solitude; and yet you can be entirely out of the world while remaining in the midst of it, if you let God set you free from your own selfishness and if you live for love alone.

p. 78-79

For such a time as this we are here.

Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe.

Hebrews 12:28 (ESV)

Off the Grid and Anthony the Great

Living “off the grid” seems to be a growing movement and somewhat ironically, there are several websites dedicated to it. The degrees of isolation vary greatly, from completely self-sustaining to seeking after a simpler lifestyle, but the idea holds some attraction, whether it is turning our backs on the mess that is our modern society or merely a Thoreau-inspired desire to live deliberately.

As I read about the Desert Fathers and the early monastics, I wonder if there are any parallels with our current desire to retreat into the wilderness. When the first Desert Fathers wandered into the deserts of Egypt and Israel, the Roman Empire was still ruling most of the known world. Anthony the Great—the first Desert Father and the father of monasticism—and others were not fleeing barbarian invasions from the north. In fact, Anthony was contemporary with Constantine.

Yet few would argue that Rome at that time was a city shining on a hill in terms of virtue. The empire had been ruled by a series of totalitarian caesars for a few hundred years and Rome’s decadence was well-known and largely unopposed by most of society. We are not given clear evidence, though, that Anthony and the others were fleeing from a particular societal issue. Instead, they sought to flee from mankind in general. They wanted to minimize distraction and focus their energy on seeking God. They sought purity of heart through isolation, repentance, and asceticism.

The off-the-grid movement seems to seek its own purity through isolation and forms of asceticism as well. Many in this movement do not profess religious motivations, but hold up some sort of ideal they are seeking to be faithful to—family, health, economics, conspiracy, or any number of things.

One common thread between the two phenomena seems to be rejection of the prevailing prescribed path. These are all individuals who sought to strike out on their own in order to follow their vision. If a few others want to come along, so be it. The off-the-grid movement is a rejection of the idea that one has to be connected with all the latest technology and conveniences and with the costs associated with them. For the Desert Fathers, it was a rejection of everything unnecessary. These are similar, but there are differences; the core motivation being the most obvious.

Nobody would want Anthony the Great or most off-gridders as “neighbors” (excuse the incongruity). By society’s standards, they are weird, probably subversive, and possibly dangerous. They strike out on their own to find a new way of doing life, largely free of the considerations and prescriptions of mainstream society. The fact that anyone can do that is subversive and even threatening to some.

That both the Desert Fathers and the new off-gridders attract interest from so many others seems to indicate that they hit a nerve. This is something that interests more  and more. People want to see how it is possible and what the results are. Some want to see it to convince themselves they can’t do it, others to consider if they can.

If we are going to need modern hermits to preserve western civilization through a second dark age, then they need more books in their homes; they need community; and above all, they need religion. I don’t know where this is headed, but it is interesting to contemplate from the suburbs.

Intentionally Blank

You see it quite often in various publications, usually in manuals or regulations of some sort. Government documents frequently have it—the “intentionally blank” page. I understand the use of blank pages so a new chapter will start on the right-hand page, but I’m not sure I understand the need to place “This page left intentionally blank” in the middle of the blank page. Our forbears certainly never did such things. If they wanted to occupy the space, they would place a picture or an engraving on the page.

When I print documents that contain intentionally blank pages, I usually pull them all out. At any given time, I have a small stack on my desk and use them for scratch paper. I even had an intentionally blank card in my wallet for several years. I had received a printed card in the mail, but the way the stock was set, two cards had to be printed per sheet, so the second one had “intentionally blank” printed on it. I found it amusing.

It’s funny because it is a paradox. By printing “intentionally blank” on the page, it is no longer blank. A more accurate phrase would be, “This page intentionally devoid of content” or some such thing. It’s a different take on the “liar paradox.” This classic paradox in its simplest form can be given thus:

This statement is false.

Now try to determine if that is a true statement or not. It’s great fun. As a philosophy major in college, I devoted a fair amount of time to this question. There have been numerous articles written on “self-referential truth claims” as one author classified the paradox genre.

There is something deeply philosophical, or even theological, about the intentionally blank page phenomena. Some things are only useful when they are blank. I occasionally buy books that are intentionally blank so I can take notes and journal in them. I used to buy blank media—cassette tapes, CDs, memory sticks, memory cards—though those days seem to be waning.  In a manner of speaking, I paid money for nothing, but what I really purchased was potential; the potential to fill that media with music or pictures or data.

A silent retreat can be an intentionally blank time. It is mostly time spent alone and quiet with prayer and reading interspersed. The idea is to create some “intentionally blank” space in our noisy lives for God to speak into.

For thus said the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel,
“In returning and rest you shall be saved;
in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.”
But you were unwilling,

Isaiah 30:15 (ESV)

I have even come to think that the whole point of the Sabbath regulations of the Mosaic Law were to teach dependence on God (because you can’t “be productive”) and to create blank space for listening to God. I certainly need to be intentional about having some meaningful blank space in my life amidst all the other things that call out for my attention each day.

Disentangled

The Apostle John teaches us much about not being “of the world” in his Gospel and Epistles.

Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life—is not from the Father but is from the world.

1 John 2:15-16 (ESV)

Pretty clear and stark words; we either love God or we love the world. To the proportion we love one, we exclude the other. This becomes obvious as he delineates what the world contains: the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life. Serving our flesh and our eyes easily leads to adultery, gluttony, and sloth. The pride of life fuels greed, wrath, envy, and pride. All seven deadly sins are encouraged by the world.

Thomas Merton echoes this sentiment.

You will never find interior solitude unless you make some conscious effort to deliver yourself from the desires and cares and the attachments of an existence in time and in the world.

Do everything you can to avoid the noise and business of men. Keep as far away as you can from the places where they gather to cheat and insult one another, to exploit one another, to laugh at one another, or to mock one another with their false gestures of friendship. Be glad if you can keep beyond the reach of their radios. Do not bother with their unearthly songs. Do not read their advertisements.

New Seeds of Contemplation

To sever ourselves from the drone of the world is to allow the Spirit to cleanse us, but it takes time to detox from the greed and fear that are mercilessly thrust on us in unending torrents. We don’t realize the degree to which we are immersed in them until, after a time apart, we come in contact with them again. We have been TV-free in our house for over a decade, so to be subjected to CNN (or Fox) in a clinic waiting room now is to be reminded of this greed and fear.

Once we start to disentangle from the world, we become more aware of other bits that are trying to entrap and snare us. As we become more in tune to the Spirit, we become more sensitive to the lies of the world. The Spirit helps us see them for what they are.

Perhaps the most startling passage by John in terms of the world is found in Jesus’ final prayer before his betrayal.

I am praying for them. I am not praying for the world but for those whom you have given me, for they are yours. All mine are yours, and yours are mine, and I am glorified in them. And I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, keep them in your name, which you have given me, that they may be one, even as we are one. While I was with them, I kept them in your name, which you have given me. I have guarded them, and not one of them has been lost except the son of destruction, that the Scripture might be fulfilled. But now I am coming to you, and these things I speak in the world, that they may have my joy fulfilled in themselves. I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world.

John 17:9-16 (ESV, emphasis added)

Jesus is not praying for the world, at least not at this point. Why would we ever want to place ourselves in a position to be outside of his prayer? May we bear the scorn of the world because we reject its lies, for if they reject us for the truth, they are treating us as they did Jesus. May we seek Jesus with such earnestness that we become not of this world, joining in this aspect of Christ-likeness.

Free as a…Corpse?

In the third chapter of his epistle to the church in Colossae, the Apostle Paul makes an interesting assertion:

“If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.”

(Colossians 3:1-3 ESV)

Did you catch that? “For you have died.” Paul is telling all believers that we are dead. What is Paul getting at? How are we to take this? It’s pretty obvious it’s not a death threat. No, he states it rather matter-of-factly as if to say the sky is blue, the grass is green, and we are deceased.

What are the implications of such a statement? We know from our marriage vows and the teaching of our Lord that once one partner dies, the surviving partner is no longer under any obligation of marriage. Death frees us from contracts and covenants.

So, if we are dead, we are no longer under any obligation to this world. My mother and all of my grandparents are dead. It would be foolish of me to expect anything from them. They will not show up for Thanksgiving or send me a birthday card anymore.

If we are dead, we presumably have no cares in this world anymore. Material goods mean nothing to us. Money, fame, fortune, all of it seems to instantly disconnect at death. It may matter to those left, but the deceased do not seem to care.

Paul declares our demise in order to justify his previous statement. “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.” Why? Well, you’re dead. No reason worrying about that promotion anymore, mate, you being dead and all….

Set your minds on things that are above. What is “above?” Metaphorically speaking, God, heaven, angels. I’m pretty sure Paul isn’t encouraging us to set our minds on becoming astronauts or airline pilots.

We should set our minds on God, and we should do so in a very particular way, as though we are dead. I have never been dead (though I was “mostly dead” once according to my wife) but it seems that the dead, at least all of them I have seen, are quiet, still, and generally solitary. Sounds kind of like a monk or a hermit. Reminds me of a story from the Desert Fathers:

Abba David related this story about Abba Arsenius. One Day a magistrate came, bringing him the will of a senator, a member of his family who had left him a very large inheritance. Arsenius took it and was about to destroy it. But the magistrate threw himself at his feet saying, ‘I beg you, do not destroy it or they will cut off my head.’ Abba Arsenius said to him, ‘But I was dead long before this senator who has just died,’ and he returned the will to him without accepting anything.*

May we also learn to rest in peace, because only by being dead are we prepared to be raised with Christ.

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* Ward, Benedicta, The Sayings of the Desert Fathers: The Alphabetical Collection,” Cistercian Publications, Trappist, KY: 1975, p. 14

Isolation

Several years ago my wife and I took a kayak camping trip in the Adirondacks of New York. We camped on an island for two nights, just the two of us. No electricity, cell phone coverage or running water. 6 miles of paddling from the nearest road. We were pretty isolated. It was great.

Isolation, solitude, silence. These have to be sought to find them in our hectic, always-connected western world. We always have man-made noise of one kind or another around us it seems. Not just the omnipresent televisions and music of stores and restaurants, either. Have you ever noticed how much quieter your house seems when the power goes out? There’s no refrigerator running, no heating or air conditioning blowing air through the house, no hum from transformers or fluorescent lights. It always gives me a bit of an other-worldly feeling when that happens. Like I’m adrift in some over-sized spaceship.

It’s hard to turn it all off. More than just cutting the electricity, getting the static to stop in our minds and souls is difficult. It takes time for the echoes of our busy life to fade to where we can really be quiet.

For God alone my soul waits in silence;
from him comes my salvation.

Psalm 62:1 (ESV)

Silence, it seems, is where we often meet God. The desert has long been a focal point of communion with God. Moses spent 40 years in the desert before he saw the burning bush. Jesus spent 40 days in the desert before he was tempted by Satan. The early church saw a bit of an exodus into the deserts of Judea and Egypt as people sought to be closer to God.

It can be tough to be in solitude and silence. I am not one to ever accuse monastics of “having it easy” because they are away from the world. I’ve spent enough time alone to know that it can be hard. When there are no distractions, we are forced to face ourselves. To be in such a “religious” environment, free from so many of the temptations and distractions of the world, and to realize we are still tempted and distracted is sobering, even humiliating.

We can’t hear if we don’t listen. We can’t listen if we don’t know what we are listening for. To learn to listen to God is not an automatic skill we acquire. It takes time and it takes practice. We must “get out of the way.” We need to make it not about us, not about getting some sort of “boost” from God. We must be ready to listen to what he wants to tell us, not what we want to hear.

Being “trapped” on a little island with my wife for three days was a great vacation. Am I willing to be “trapped” with God for a day? If not, how am I ever going to stand the new heaven and new earth?