We may sometimes become aware that the wonderful invitation to enter into the quiet place within is in conflict with our present state of mind or feelings. We hear the invitation but our mood is contrary. What are we to do?

I remember that once, on a long journey in Ireland with the train running late, I found myself at an unscheduled stop at Kildare. Looking through the misty window I found myself staring at a poster on the station billboard. It was advertising holidays in Ireland. The picture was one of utter peace. It showed a cloudless blue sky, a still lake, with not a ripple on the smooth water, and blue-grey mountains behind. Standing beside the peaceful lake was a man in a deerstalker hat, a fishing rod in his hand, a little dog at his side, and a hamper a few yards away. The caption read, ‘Tranquillity’.

At that moment, with my view from the carriage window one of grey, louring skies, a steady drizzle, a drab railway station, and a weary feeling of having been already five hours on the train, I found the scene of tranquillity on the poster almost mocking.

When we settle down to our prayer of silence, sometimes the promise of peace and tranquillity may also seem a mockery. Our mood may be one of anxiousness or dogged resistance, or we may be full of anger, or depressed. We try to be true to our prayer word, but there is no easing of the mood we are in.

This is the time to be prepared to wait, to sit still and wait long enough for the clouds of weariness, or rebellion, or worry to lift and our thoughts and feelings to become quiet. In the words of a modern contemplative, ‘You must wait in silence from day to day, sometimes from hour to hour. And then the things that are meant to happen will happen. Sometimes there will be straws in the wind, sometimes not even that; you may just have to allow yourself to be carried along by the current.’

So even if it takes longer than we expect, we wait. Augustine encourages us: ‘Wait for the Lord. Be firm. Let your heart take courage and wait for the Lord.’

Meister Eckhart, in one of his sermons, likens the person coming into prayer to a damp log that is placed on the fire. It takes time for the log to be warmed and catch fire. ‘In order that the wood may catch fire and be penetrated completely time is needed, because the wood and the fire are so dissimilar. At first the fire warms the wood and makes it hot. Then the wood starts smoking and spitting and crackling, because the two are so dissimilar. But as the wood gets hotter it gets quieter. The more the wood gives up to the fire, the more peaceful it is, until at last it really turns to fire’ (Sermon 12).

Sometimes it is in our darkest moments, if we are able to wait, that we catch fire.

An extract from Finding Your Hidden Treasure

© 2010 Benignus O’Rourke OSA

Published by Darton, Longman and Todd Ltd

© Photo: Ian Wilson OSA

Get the book: www.theaugustinians.org