In the silence of our own desert we will find the inner strength to meet the challenges of being a disciple of Jesus today

One Saturday morning some years ago, a young woman appeared at our retreat house asking where she could find quiet. This took me aback: the whole place was silent. I showed her the oratory, the walled garden, the library. Our pilgrim, looking edgy, evidently did not want to talk.

Whenever I looked out of the window, I saw the slight figure sitting motionless on a bench in the abbey grounds. She had no book, no phone. At the end of the day she thanked me profoundly for “everything”, declared the place a haven, and departed seeming far more at peace than when she arrived. As far as I recall, she did not attend the monastic services, but she certainly knew how to be still.

“All the misery of mankind,” wrote Pascal, “comes from not knowing how to sit still in a room.” (Pensées, 139)