274. The earth that shelters and nourishes us is a gigantic force that is constantly in motion. It often proves to be cruel, brutal, and pitiless. I am thinking of the volcanic eruptions that destroyed entire cities. Pompeii was entirely buried under a thick layer of ashes in 79 B.C., during a powerful eruption of Mount Vesuvius. How can we fail to mention earthquakes, the shocks of which are even more deadly and destructive? We remember the earthquakes in Aquila, in the Abruzzi region, on April 6, 2009, in Haiti on January 12, 2010, in Nepal in 2015, some terrible tsunamis in Indonesia and Sri Lanka on December 26, 2004, and in Japan on March 11, 2011, which engulfed buildings and hundreds of thousands of human lives. I will never be able to forget typhoon Hayan or Yolanda that devastated the Philippines in November 2013.
Men are the innocent, powerless victims of blind natural forces. Our revulsion is heightened when these sufferings and human losses cannot be blamed on anyone; according to our human logic, they call God into question directly. Why does he allow such devastation and so much suffering?
275. In unexpected ways, evil and suffering affect us on a daily basis. We also endure the horrors of deliberate, barbaric hatred and violence, planned and executed by human wickedness, at the obvious instigation of Satan. Faced with suffering, given the assaults of evil caused by nature or by man, there is no one but God who can help us to remain standing.
276. Christians know that God does not will evil. And if this evil exists, God is the first victim of it. Evil exists because his love is not accepted; his love is misunderstood, rejected, and resisted. The world, in its harmony and beauty, can be formed only in a dialogue of love in which God exchanges with us, and we with him. If evil affects God himself, it is because there is a divine wound that we must heal, a wound that unceasingly calls for our generosity. Thus, all of Christianity, all of divine revelation from Genesis on, is the cry of God’s innocence. The more monstrous the evil, the more evident it is that God, in us, is the first victim.
277. It is difficult for man to understand evil when he does not appreciate its properly divine dimensions. In his book Un autre regard sur l’homme [Another look at man], Maurice Zundel writes:
And this is the meaning of the Cross: evil can have divine dimensions, evil is ultimately God’s pain. In evil, God is the one who is pained, and this is why evil is so terrible. But if God is the one who is pained by evil, then at the heart of this evil there is this love that will never cease to accompany us, to protect our lot, and to suffer with us. It is necessary to say much more: God will be struck by evil, by all evil, before us, in us, and for us, as at Golgotha.
Certainly, it is not easy to imagine how God can be touched by our evil. Job himself wondered: “If I sin, what do I do to you, you watcher of men?” (Job 7:20). How can God be struck by evil? Imagine a mother with her sick child. She can suffer for her child through love and identification. A completely healthy mother can experience her child’s agony more painfully than the child himself by reason of this very identification of love with the beloved. Her love is capable of this. How can anyone think that God’s love is less maternal than a mother’s love, when all the love of all mothers, including that of the Most Blessed Virgin Mary herself, is only a drop in this ocean of God’s maternal tenderness? This is why no creature is struck without God being struck in it, before it, and for it.
“Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have graven you on the palms of my hands; your walls are continually before me. Your builders outstrip your destroyers, and those who laid you waste go forth from you” (Is 49:15-17).
278. Like the psalmist, the man of faith turns to God to declare to him: “My eyes are toward you, O Lord God; in you I seek refuge; leave me not defenseless! Keep me from the trap which they have laid for me, and from the snares of evildoers” (Ps 141:8-9).
I behave this way because Jesus Christ, the Son of God who “reflects the glory of God and bears the very stamp of his nature, upholding the universe by his word of power” (Heb 1:3), went before me in the most atrocious suffering. Jesus is connected with men because he is one of them, taking on the human condition, its trials and sufferings. He is also connected to God because he is his own Son. Jesus is in a unique situation that makes him the head of the new human family, “the first-born among many brethren” (Rom 8:29). He shares our trials and bears all our sufferings. Since the death of Jesus on the Cross, the man of faith can no longer take any stance toward evil except at Jesus’ side, relying firmly on him. He must stand beside Mary, the Virgin standing at the foot of the Cross, so as to complete in his flesh “what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the Church” (Col 1:24).
279. The horrors perpetrated by men and the works of the devil are a mystery that mankind will never be able to understand thoroughly. Evil, whether physical or moral, is always unjust and ignoble. It demeans and destroys man. It tarnishes the image of God engraved on man.
280. Faced with evil, the human being rebels. He seeks in every way he can to get rid of it. Confronted with evil, there is only one possible attitude: combat and resistance. Here is the recommendation of Saint Peter: “Be sober, be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking some one to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith” (1 Pet 5:8-9).
281. Prayer must be a form of resistance in order to repel difficulties. It allows us to be clad in the armor of God. Man turns to God humbly, asking him to intervene on his behalf.
282. How did Christ confront evil? How did Mary respond to evil? How did the Mother of God react when she saw the disfigured face of her Son on the Cross?
The Virgin has no strength left in the face of such an outburst of hatred and violence. She is exhausted, overwhelmed, broken. Nevertheless, Mary possesses a great interior strength, and she remains standing and silent. She takes refuge in prayer, self-offering, and serene acceptance of God’s mysterious will, in communion with her Son. The Mother of God loves a God who makes no noise and burns up human violence in the fire of his merciful love. At that moment she hears her Son beg God: “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do” (Lk 23:34). The union of her silence with the prayers of heaven enables her to remain standing at the foot of the Cross. Mary does not rebel, she does not shout. She accepts suffering thanks to her prayer. Did not Jesus himself prepare to endure his Passion by a night of prayer in the garden of Gethsemane and by many other nights, alone on the mountain or away in a deserted place?
283. Christ alone can give man the strength to confront evil and come to terms with it. He offers himself as the only power capable of helping mankind to conquer suffering. “Apart from me you can do nothing” (Jn 15:5). By the strength of his Cross, he has the power to save mankind. The most beautiful cry possible is an outburst of love for God. Suffering is often the expression of an immense love. It is redemptive. Suffering and sorrow show that we are alive, guiding the physician more precisely in his diagnosis. It is necessary to accept suffering and to cope with it in silence. There is no injustice in the world that does not find a prayerful response in God.
I know how difficult it is to stand up to suffering and to come to terms with it. I know that it is difficult for us to accept suffering. We turn to God, shouting, “Why this chalice? Why so many horrors and so much barbaric violence?”
284. God does not will evil. God does not want war. God does not will death or suffering. God does not want injustice. Nevertheless, he allows all these earthly evils. Why such a mystery?
The Father intends that we come to terms with our whole life here below. And evil is part of the human condition. He willed that his own Son should experience the most abject evil for the redemption and salvation of the world.
Might there be an alternative: Either rebellion or the silence of prayer?
285. God always watches over us. Man may experience the darkest nights, endure the worst outrages,
confront the most tragic situations, yet God is with him. Often man forgets that God is present. If he is an unbeliever, he supposes that God does not exist. If he has a faith that has grown lukewarm because of the secularized atmosphere of the times, he despairs, thinking that God has abandoned him. But the Father stays with him despite all possible denials.
286. Confronted with evil, man gets organized by gathering the means necessary for his defense. His action is just, but sometimes it provokes greater evils. Our true grandeur lies in the humility of faith; the purer our belief, the more profound it is and the closer it brings us to God, who is infinitely great. Someone who is close to God becomes powerful; he can conquer the evil that corrodes the world, and he is capable of integrating it into his prayer of intercession.
287. Silence and prayer are not a form of defection. They are the strongest weapons against evil. Man wants to “do”, but above all else he must “be”. In silent prayer, man is fully human. He resembles David before Goliath. For prayer is the noblest, most sublime, and most vigorous act, which elevates man to the level of God.
288. Prayer is offering oneself to God like the fragrance of incense that ascends to God’s Throne to disappear in him. God also gives himself to those who give themselves to him. I know that, in the silent depths of my heart, I can come just as intimately close to God, whatever the circumstances may be or whatever sufferings evil may impose on me.
Saint John Vianney, a man of silence, a great shepherd of souls, who was totally dedicated to the proclamation of the Word of God and to the Mystery of Reconciliation, whose face was transfigured by the Eucharist, offers the most sublime definition of prayer:
See, my children, a Christian’s treasure is not on earth, it is in heaven. Well, then! Our thoughts must go where our treasure is. Man has a fine function: to pray and to love. You pray, you love: that is man’s happiness on earth!
Prayer is nothing other than a union with God. When your heart is pure and united with God, you feel within yourself a balm, a sweetness that is inebriating, a light that is dazzling. In this intimate union, God and the soul are like two pieces of wax that have melted together: you can no longer separate them. It is a very beautiful thing, this union of God with his little creature. It is an incomprehensible blessing.
We have not deserved to pray, but God, in his goodness, has allowed us to speak to him. Our prayer is like incense that he receives with the utmost pleasure.
My children, you have a little heart, but prayer enlarges it and makes it capable of loving God. . . . Prayer is a foretaste of heaven, a stream flowing from paradise. It never leaves us without sweetness. It is a kind of honey that sinks into the soul and sweetens everything. Troubles melt away in the presence of prayer that is made well, like snow before the sun.
289. Silence is not a form of passivity. By remaining silent, man can avoid a greater evil. It is not an earthly dereliction of duty to place your trust in heaven.
Certainly, but how does one keep silence in the face of injustice? How can one not cry out in incomprehension and rebellion?
290. In trying to control everything and to place everything under the banner of rebellion, a man runs the risk of leaving nothing up to God. He finds himself alone, faced with his own limits and helplessness. Now man without God is lost. Without faith lived out in confident silence, he turns away from his God and Redeemer.
291. In the absence of God, it is easy to observe the bitter failures of human debates and of political solutions with regard to evil. . .
What is God’s instruction? In the parable of the good grain and the chaff, Christ invites us to let the wheat and the weeds grow until the hour of the harvest. Then the time will come when evil will be destroyed by good. Persevering patience, supported by Providence, is an ally in all our daily battles. The combat against evil plays out over time, and it is important to persevere and not to lose hope. God is fashioning hearts, and evil never has the last word. In the darkest night, God works in silence. We have to enter into God’s time and into this great silence that is a silence of love, trust, and active abandonment. Let us never forget that silent prayer is the strongest and surest act in the struggle against evil.
292. We must involve God in our combat against injustice. I like to keep saying that our true weapons are love and prayer. The silence of prayer is our only equipment for combat. The silence of invocation, the silence of adoration, the silence of waiting: these are the most effective weapons. Love alone is capable of putting out the flames of injustice, because God is love. Loving God is everything. All the rest has not the slightest value to the extent that it is not transformed and elevated by Christ’s love. The choice is simple: God or nothing. . .
293. Modern man intends to become the master of time, the only one responsible for his own existence, future, and well-being. He wants to program his life and control his destiny. He organizes his efforts as though God did not exist. He does not need him. On the other hand, God invites us to trust, to be patient, and to work slowly toward the elimination of evil, which requires a long, thankless battle. This combat involves four pillars set up on God in faith: silence, prayer, penance, and fasting.
Is rebellion a trap, to which silence must always be preferred? Your experience of a violent, authoritarian Marxist regime in Guinea certainly provides you with food for thought on this subject. Confronted with the dictator Sékou Touré, what path did you choose?
294. A man of God does not seek any political office. He does not aspire to bring about any change in the political system, nor does he call for the existing government to be overturned. His mission is essentially moral and spiritual, aimed at the interior renewal of man, love of God and neighbor. Nevertheless, when confronted with some ideological orientations, one cannot let the evil advance. In Guinea, I thought it necessary to call by their names the horrors and scandals perpetrated by the dictatorship, but I did not want incite the people to rebellion. My intention was to denounce the injustices of the bloody regime of Sékou Touré and to point out the sufferings of the people, particularly the economic and social disaster. The country had won its independence, but the population was deprived of freedom, hunted down, and bound by the chains of fear and ignorance. I called for a change for the good of all, those who governed and those who were governed. For my country possesses all the human and natural resources needed to make its children happy and to help them to live with dignity. I knew that my words would be that much stronger because they had as their rock an intense life of penance, prayer, and silence, rooted and lived in God.
Often, dictators are sincerely persuaded that they are doing good. Alexander Solzhenitsyn made it perfectly clear that the Soviet leaders were convinced that they were leading the country toward an earthly paradise. Sékou Touré, because of a faulty formation of his conscience and an erroneous mind-set, thought that he was bringing progress and prosperity to Guinea.
295. Thanks to the aid of silent prayer, man becomes capable of describing realities in all their raw truth. It is necessary to affirm the principles of the Gospel after encountering God in silence. A man of God will legitimately speak in God’s name only after encountering him in the silence of the interior desert and conversing with him face to face, “as a man speaks to his friend” (Ex 33:11). When you really have encountered God, it is impossible to compromise the Gospel and the precepts of divine revelation with the political and ideological positions of a world that rebels against the law of God and of nature.
296. Far from noise and easy distractions, in solitude and silence, if we are intent solely on transmitting the divine will, it will be granted to us to see with God’s eyes and to call things as he perceives and judges them.
297. There is no genuine action or major decision except in the silence of the prayer that precedes them.
298. Today the danger lies in the unbridled activism of the modern world. We are always called to fight, to comb the countryside, to overthrow our adversaries, and to destroy them. Indeed, man is driven t
o compound one evil with another, whereas he ought to let the weeds grow with the wheat. Silence will give us the patience to wait for the moment when the useless plants will fall by themselves. Thanks to silence, we will know how to bide our time and to wait for God’s hour with perseverance so as to forge an alliance with him and to work under his guidance.
299. For there is a time to fight and a time to make use of silence. If we truly possess the pedagogy of silence that comes from God, we will have a little of heaven’s patience.
300. The devil invites mankind to rebellion and disorder. With his litany of subterfuges, he sows discord and incites us to pour out our hatred upon each other. “Old Scratch” always makes noise and a lot of racket so as to prevent us from resting in God. The devil will not be able to reach us in the stronghold of silence. Let us guard against multiplying sins by satisfying our little egotistical or revolutionary passions.
301. Confronted with the injustice of his arrest, Christ remained silent. The Apostles tried to draw their swords to defend the Son of God. But Jesus told Peter: “Put your sword into its sheath; shall I not drink the chalice which the Father has given me?” (Jn 18:11; Mt 26:52).
302. The Church must not think that an effective response to injustice lies in militant, political, and demagogic activity. Human battles lead only to confrontation, destruction, and ruin. They are nothing compared with the infinite silence of the Father.
In order to confront the misfortunes of the world, Pope Francis calls the Church to be a “field hospital”. How can this image be interpreted in terms of our present reflection on silence?
303. There is Pope Francis’ initial insight, which is generous and essentially pastoral, and then there is the secular, reductionist interpretation by the media. Alas, this contrast is nothing new. In speaking about Vatican II, Benedict XVI had already denounced the conflict between the vision of the Council Fathers and the relativistic, falsely progressive media interpretation. We must acknowledge, however, that this is a hapax legomenon, an expression occurring only once in the history of ecclesiology and of images for the Church.
The Power of Silence Page 17