Making a holy hole

Good morning.

Just before Easter I had the pleasure of singing Bach’s St John’s Passion with my local choral society. It’s an astonishing piece of music. But most astonishing, in the performance, was the moment that marks the death of Jesus of Nazareth, when the conductor allowed a silence to expand, until it filled the hall like something almost tangible. For me, it was an experience both completely physical and deeply spiritual, connecting me to the whole choir, orchestra, and audience, and across time to all the musicians who have shared this moment, and further back still, to the women standing faithfully at the foot of the cross.

A Quaker friend of mine talks about making a little hole in the world, describing those moments when two or three people settle into quiet and allow a true silence to grow. These silences pierce through the bustle and noise of life, and let the light in. They create a holy hole, a sacred space, and they can happen in the most mundane of settings: when a conversation lapses into quiet, in the face of great joy or great pain; in the gap after bedtime stories, as children settle to sleep; when a group of protesters gathers in loving witness. In my experience it even happens occasionally in a difficult work meeting, when people realise they are safe enough to really listen to one another. Mary Oliver called it “the doorway | into thanks, and a silence in which | another voice may speak”. May I seek opportunities for making a little hole in the world today, for giving thanks and for listening, for allowing the spirit to breathe.

Thank you, friends.