Fifteen years ago today, I attended my very first Silent Lenten Retreat at Holy Cross Monastery in West Park, NY. I remember I was so nervous about going—how would I feel about no being able to speak for three whole days. As it turned out, it wasn’t difficult at all. The place actually invites the silence, the same way a library invites soft voices. There is something soothing and gentling about the monastery’s physical presence and atmosphere (Father Max used to say it was a thin place) that makes it easy to get your head and heart into that mindset of silence.
And, as I found out, the silence—which I’d feared at first—was truly a gift from God. Once all the external noise and chatter were gone, I was able to hear—and eventually, turn off—all my own INTERNAL noise and chatter. And once I was able to do that, I was able to hear and receive what God wanted to tell me.
That’s where and when “Finding Emmaus” was born.
And, as I found out, the silence—which I’d feared at first—was truly a gift from God. Once all the external noise and chatter were gone, I was able to hear—and eventually, turn off—all my own INTERNAL noise and chatter. And once I was able to do that, I was able to hear and receive what God wanted to tell me.
That’s where and when “Finding Emmaus” was born.
