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James P. Carse taught at New York University for thirty years as the Professor of the History and Literature of Religion, and Director of the Religious Studies Program. He retired from the University in 1996. He is a writer and an artist, and lives in New York City and Massachusetts.
What follows are excerpts from Carse’s 1985 book, The Silence of
Tag: silence
How silently,
how silently
the wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts
to human hearts
the blessings of his heaven.No ear may hear his coming,
but in this world of sin,
where meeks souls will
receive him still
the dear Christ enters in.—Phillips Brooks, 1868
A couple summers ago, I wrote “On waiting and squirming” about “periods during which I have difficulty finding God’s reassuring
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The Creation of the Inaudible
by Pattiann Rogers
Maybe no one can distinguish which voice
Is god’s voice sounding in a summer dusk
Because he calls with the same rising frequency,
The same rasp and rattling rustle the cicadas use
As they cling to the high
This is a beautiful post I stumbled onto, thanks to Martin Kelley’s QuakerQuaker.org. It’s on a blog I hadn’t seen before, Showers of Blessing, by Paul L of Minneapolis.
Friend Paul is quoting from Andrea Lee’s article, “Personal History: Altered State — Pennsylvania, blackness, and the art of being foreign,” in the June 30, 2008 issue of The New Yorker.
As a fifth-grade student at Lansdowne Friends School, she and her classmates were
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