Reflection on Little Pieces of Light

"Now hold your hand right up in front of your nose and wiggle your fingers," the tour guide told us after shutting off the lights inside of the cave, "and you won't be able to see them. That's how dark it is 310 feet below the surface of the earth." And she was right. We couldn't see them.

This summer, we had the opportunity to visit Mammoth Cave National Park in Kentucky. And while each of the cave tours takes a moment to let you experience total darkness, one of them also allows you to experience total silence. "This is one of the few spots in the world," the guide informed us, "where there is absolutely no sound. And it is this absolute silence, not the absolute darkness, that drives lost cavers insane."

Sometimes our darkest times are those in which the silence even more so than the darkness overwhelms us, when instead of hearing God's words we, like a lost caver, seem to be enclosed in an absolute and deafening silence. Yet it is precisely to this silence which we are called to be attentive. For it is within the silence that those who listen and are still, hear the Lord. "Then the Lord said to Elijah, Go outside and stand on the mountain before the Lord; the Lord will be passing by.' A strong and heavy wind was rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the Lord but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake there was fire but the Lord was not in the fire. After the fire there was a tiny whispering sound. When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak and went and stood at the entrance of the cave" (1 Kings 19:11-13).

At a second cave, the tour guide also had us stop and listen while we stood in total darkness. And only when we were the most still could we hear it. Somewhere, off in the distance, was a slight trickle of water, slowly and patiently carving out more of the cave. A small sign of life among the darkness and silence of the cave. Beauty in darkness. Life within silence.

If a small stream of water can produce such spectacular beauty from deep within the earth, how much more spectacular must be the beauty that the living water of Jesus can create deep within each of us.

About the Reflectors

Lissa Romell and Dara Behzadi, a wife and husband team, are students in Masters programs at Catholic Theological Union in Chicago. Both are part time students. Lissa is the secretary for the Passionist Community at CTU and Dara is a pastoral associate at St. Thomas the Apostle Parish in Hyde Park in Chicago. We are grateful to them for giving their reflection for this issue.