Diat Nicolas - The power of silence: against the dictatorship of noise

THE POWER OF SILENCE

Robert Cardinal Sarah
with Nicolas Diat

with an Afterword by
Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI

Translated by Michael J. Miller

IGNATIUS PRESS SAN FRANCISCO

Original French edition:
La force du silence: Contre la dictature du bruit
2016 by Librairie Arthme Fayard, Paris, France

Front cover photograph:
The Pantheon, Rome
iStock photo / Barcin

Cover design by Roxanne Mei Lum

2017 by Ignatius Press, San Francisco
All rights reserved
ISBN 978-1-62164-191-9 (PB)
ISBN 978-1-68149-758-7 (EB)
Library of Congress Control Number 2016963052
Printed in the United States of America

For Benedict XVI, great friend of God,
master of silence and prayer .

For Raymond-Marie Tchidimbo,
former Archbishop of Conakry,
prisoner and victim of a bloody dictatorship .

For all the unknown Carthusians who have been seeking God
for almost a thousand years .

What is it then that this desire and this inability proclaim to us, but that there was once in man a true happiness of which there now remain to him only the mark and empty trace, which he in vain tries to fill from all his surroundings, seeking from things absent the help he does not obtain in things present? But these are all inadequate, because the infinite abyss can only be filled by an infinite and immutable object, that is to say, only by God Himself.

Blaise Pascal, Penses

O dialect of my interior village,

Sweet speech of my imaginary lands,

Riverside jargon of my invisible stream,

Language of my country, of my spiritual fatherland,

O word more dear to me than French itself,

O my silence! I speak you and recite you.

I sing you a thousand times for my souls delight

And I hear you resound like triumphant organs.

Jean Mogin, Ptures du silence
[Pastures of silence]

Without silence, God disappears in the noise. And this noise becomes all the more obsessive because God is absent. Unless the world rediscovers silence, it is lost. The earth then rushes into nothingness. Thought 142

The silence of God is elusive and inaccessible. But the person who prays knows that God hears him in the same way that he understood the last words of Christ on the Cross. Mankind speaks, and God responds by his silence. Thought 167

There is a real warning that our civilization needs to hear. If our intellects can no longer close their eyes, if we no longer know how to be quiet, then we will be deprived of mystery, of its light, which is beyond darkness, of its beauty, which is beyond all beauty. Without mystery, we are reduced to the banality of earthly thing. Thought 240

Sickness is an anticipation of the silence of eternity. Thought 349

There are souls who claim solitude so as to find themselves, and others who seek it in order to give themselves to God and to others. Thought 117

Why did Robert Cardinal Sarah decide to devote a book to silence? We spoke for the first time about this beautiful subject in April 2015. We were returning to Rome after spending several days in the Abbey in Lagrasse.

At that magnificent monastery, located between Carcassonne and Narbonne, the cardinal paid a visit to his friend, Brother Vincent. Shattered by multiple sclerosis, the young religious knew that he was reaching the end of his life. In the prime of life, he found himself paralyzed, confined to his bed in the infirmary, condemned to merciless medical protocols. The smallest breath was an immense effort for him. On this earth, Brother Vincent-Marie of the Resurrection was already living in the Great Silence of heaven.

Their first meeting had taken place on October 25, 2014. That day left a deep impression on Cardinal Sarah. Right away he recognized an ardent soul, a hidden saint, a great friend of God. How could anyone forget Brother Vincents spiritual strength, his silence, the beauty of his smile, the cardinals emotion, the tears, the modesty, the colliding sentiments? Brother Vincent was incapable of uttering a simple sentence because the sickness deprived him of the use of speech. He could only lift his gaze toward the cardinal. He could only contemplate him, steadily, tenderly, lovingly. Brother Vincents bloodshot eyes already had the brightness of eternity.

That sunny autumn day, as we left the little room where the monks and the nurses ceaselessly took over from one another with extraordinary devotion, the Abbot of Lagrasse, Father Emmanuel-Marie, brought us into the monastery gardens, near the church. It was necessary to get some air in order to accept Gods silent will, this hidden plan that was inexorably carrying off a young, good religious toward unknown shores, while his body lay tormented.

The cardinal returned several times to pray with his friend, Brother Vincent. The patients condition kept worsening, but the quality of the silence that sealed the dialogue of a great prelate and a little monk grew in an increasingly spiritual way. When he was in Rome, the cardinal often called the Brother. The one spoke gently, and the other remained silent. Cardinal Sarah spoke again to Brother Vincent a few days before his death. He was able to hear his breathing, husky and discordant, the attacks of pain, the last efforts of his heart, and to give him his blessing.

On Sunday, April 10, 2016, when Cardinal Sarah had come to Argenteuil for the conclusion of the exhibition of the Holy Tunic of Christ, Brother Vincent gave up his soul to God, surrounded by Father Emmanuel-Marie and his family. How can the mystery of Brother Vincent be understood? After so many trials, the end of his journey was peaceful. The rays from paradise passed noiselessly through the windows of his room.

During the last months of his life, the little patient prayed a lot for the cardinal. The monks who cared for the Brother at every moment are certain that he remained alive for a few additional months so as to protect Robert Sarah better. Brother Vincent knew that the wolves were lying in wait, that his friend needed him, that he was counting on him.

This friendship was born in silence, it grew in silence, and it continues to exist in silence.

The meetings with Brother Vincent were a fragment of eternity. We never doubted the importance of each of the minutes spent with him. Silence made it possible to raise every sentiment toward the most perfect state. When it was necessary to leave the abbey, we knew that Vincents silence would make us stronger to confront the worlds noises.

On that Sunday in spring when Brother Vincent joined the angels of heaven, the cardinal wished to come to Lagrasse. A great calm reigned over the whole monastery. The Brothers silence had descended upon the places that he had known. Of course it was not easy to walk past the deserted infirmary.

In the choir of the church, where the Brothers body reposed for several days, the prayer of the monks was beautiful.

An African cardinal came to bury the young religious with whom he was never able to have a discussion. The son of the Guinean bush spoke in silence with a little French saint; this friendship is unique and indestructible.

The Power of Silence could never have existed without Brother Vincent. He showed us that the silence into which illness had plunged him allowed him to enter ever more deeply into the truth of things. Gods reasons are often mysterious. Why did he decide to try so severely a joyful young man who was asking for nothing? Why such a cruel, violent, and painful sickness? Why this sublime meeting between a cardinal who had arrived at the summit of the Church and a sick person confined to his room? Silence was the salt that seasoned this story. Silence had the last word. Silence was the elevator to heaven.