In the wise sayings of the biblical book called Ecclesiastes there is a series of opposites called “an appointed time for everything. They include:

A time to be born, and a timed to die;

A time to scatter stones, and a time to gather them;

A time to be silent, and a time to speak.” The words, “Be still, and know that I am your God,” are especially relevant for Christians in the hyperactive climate of today’s commitment, involvement and encounter. The first chapter of the Liturgy Constitution, while calling for a knowing, active and fruitful part for the faithful in the public praise of God states solemnly:

“The Christian is assuredly called to pray with his brethren, but he must also enter into his chamber to pray to His Father in secret.” (Matt. 6,6.)

Up On Your Toes

It’s a matter of spiritual timing. In the Church’s war against an insulated individualism (God and me), we must equally avoid a noisy collectionism (Everybody up on your toes and sing). The time-honored retreat is a good place to begin.

In our archdiocese, both priests and laity have a number of options. The Trappists at Conyers offer a traditional retreat -- “old style” in the sense that Our Lord’s silence in the desert-retreat was old style. At Ignatius House, there is a ferment of experiment: closed, with modifications; open with mixed group of priests, religious and laity. The characteristic of the traditional style is silent. That of the new type is dialogue.

Both, in my opinion, are urgently needed today. This summer, after seven years of making retreats with our priests, I am now at the Jesuit Retreat House in Auriesville, N.Y. This region, in sight of the quiet Mohawk River and the pulsing Interstate 90, was sanctified by the blood of the Jesuit martyrs Jogues, Copil and de la Lande in 1646.

This retreat, conducted by Father Gleason is a “transition retreat!” We concelebrate Mass with a brief homily and kiss of peace. The conferences bear heavily on the Gospels. And we wear cassocks only for Mass. In sharp contrast to these innovations are such pre-Vatican practices such as reading during meals, divine office partly in common -- and silence. (Three of us were reprimanded yesterday afternoon for discussing some parochial matter outside the windows. We were firmly reminded that we were “on retreat” and besides some of the fathers wanted to sleep.) New Type Is Necessary

I think the “new type” retreat with lots of informal dialogue is very necessary today. When the retreat is “mixed” it adds one more opportunity for laity and clergy to learn more about each other. There is a time to speak, but our priests and people (and especially bishops) need time to learn about themselves. Silent prayer, with its many variations, meditations and examinations and just plain thinking, has not been repealed by Vatican II.

To offset the private religion of our past Catholicism the pendulum has swung to dialogue, witness and involvement -- and rightly so. We must talk more. But dialogue will remain only idle conversation unless we listen and study, reflect and think. Valuable laymen run the risk of repeating their private irritations unless they first put these irritations in perspective.

Involved priests and Religious must learn the priority of wisdom before witness, of wit before woe. And articulate bishops are reminded that they can be true shepherds only if they know their own, love them, defend them and help them. In Our Lord’s parable, it is the hireling and the wolf who cut the most conspicuous public figures. The shepherd remains at his quiet post -- at work.

About 20 young Jesuit Tertians invited me to a talk-session last night. It ran from 9 until 11, over beer and pretzels and naturally the liturgical experiments, authority and obedience, celibacy and a dozen other subjects were up for grabs. I learned much more, I felt, from the frank, fresh, trained minds than they learned from me, although their respect for a bishop’s role and responsibility proved how deeply they loved the Church.

The Treasures Of God

I would agree with retreat-master who has said several times how he envied the young priests, sisters, seminarians and brothers today. Never have the treasures of God’s gift to mankind stood as inviting, as manifold, as challenging as they do today.

Psalm 4, a favorite of St. Augustine’s, urges confidence in the face of distress. In reply to the many who say, “Oh, that we might see better times,” the writer advises --

“Know that the Lord does wonders for his faithful one -- Reflect, upon your beds, in silence.” Neither priest nor layman can treat silence and dialogue as if we had split personalities. Since we cannot always be still, nor can we speak without ceasing there is this danger of spiritual schizophrenia. The two just don’t blend.

As Ecclesiastes reminds us, it’s a matter of timing. Newman said, “heart speaks to heart.” Paul J. Hallinan

Archbishop of Atlanta