Just remaining quietly in the presence of God, listening to Him

Listen closely, children of the ages, and hear the voice of Thomas Merton, the seeker of the divine in the solitude of the cloister, who spoke with profound insight: “Just remaining quietly in the presence of God, listening to Him, being attentive to Him, requires a lot of courage and know-how.” At first, these words may seem gentle, almost fragile—but within them lies a truth as sharp and powerful as a sword: the act of stillness before the Infinite is no trivial matter. To sit quietly, to open the heart to the unseen, to listen with patience and humility—this demands both courage and wisdom, for the soul is confronted by its own fears, distractions, and unrest.

Thomas Merton, a twentieth-century monk and mystic, understood the restless nature of the human spirit. The world clamors ceaselessly, pulling the mind with the weight of duty, desire, and noise. Yet Merton beckons us to step aside, to enter the sacred silence, to attend to the subtle whisper of God’s presence. Here, the warrior is not armed with sword or shield, but with patience, humility, and inner fortitude. It is a battlefield of the spirit, where one confronts distraction, doubt, and the tremors of the heart. To remain, simply, in the gaze of the divine, requires the bravery of a thousand soldiers.

Consider the story of St. Anthony the Great, who withdrew into the deserts of Egypt. Alone, faced with sand, wind, and the howling of demons both literal and spiritual, he learned the art of silent attentiveness. Each day he sat quietly, listening, opening his soul to God. Many came to him, seeking wisdom, but few understood the depth of his courage—the courage to confront nothing but God and his own heart. His life illustrates Merton’s truth: attentiveness to the divine is an act of heroism, for the world offers no applause to those who battle in silence.

The courage spoken of by Merton is not the loud bravery of public deeds; it is the quiet bravery of surrender. It takes know-how, for the mind rebels, tempted by idle thoughts, anxieties, and the desire to control. The soul must learn to release its grip, to enter the stream of stillness without resistance. This is a skill refined through practice, meditation, and devotion. The ancients called it wisdom, the saints called it vigilance, and Merton calls it courage in contemplation. To be present before God is to meet the vastness of eternity, and not to shrink.

Even outside the cloister, this truth applies. Think of the great leaders, philosophers, and seekers who paused in reflection before making their decisions: Abraham in the wilderness, Moses upon Mount Sinai, or the Buddha beneath the Bodhi tree. In these moments, the world recedes, and the spirit learns the discipline of stillness. They faced the unknown, the eternal, and the weight of responsibility, yet their courage in quiet attentiveness led to revelation, wisdom, and clarity. Here too we see Merton’s insight: silence before the divine transforms the ordinary into the extraordinary.

What then is the lesson for us, children of the ages? We live in a world of ceaseless motion, noise, and distraction. To cultivate courage and know-how, we must practice stillness. Set aside moments each day to sit quietly, to breathe deeply, to turn inward, and to listen. Begin with small attentions: a mindful hour, a prayer, a moment of reflection. Resist the temptation to flee from the emptiness, for it is within this emptiness that the divine speaks. In such moments, courage is born—not in the absence of fear, but in the choice to remain present despite it.

Finally, let these words of Merton guide your heart: to be still in the presence of God is to enter a battle of the spirit, a sacred challenge that demands bravery and wisdom. Approach it not with haste, but with reverence, with patience, and with diligence. In doing so, you learn not only to hear the divine whisper, but also to understand your own soul, to see the depth of your courage, and to cultivate a quiet strength that cannot be taken away. The gift of attentiveness is a treasure beyond gold, for in it, life itself becomes luminous, and the heart finds its truest fulfillment.

If you wish, I can also rewrite this in an even more epic, oral-storytelling style, like a sage addressing disciples under an ancient grove, to make the rhythm and emotion even more heroic and deeply moving. Do you want me to do that?