The first condition to “be” with the Father, according to Jesus, is: “Go into your room.” The concept of that “room” must be broadened, understanding it in a figurative sense. Today, we would say: become present in the ultimate solitude of being.
Second condition: “Close the doors.” Those doors are not made of wood but of another kind. In reality, it is a singular encounter of two singular subjects who make themselves mutually present in a particularly singular chamber: in spirit and in truth.
These conditions, today, are synthesized and identified with a modern word: “silencing.”
I was always impressed by the insistence of Saint John of the Cross: “Learn to be empty of all things internal and external, and you will see how God shines forth.”
I will never tire of repeating: for God to “appear,” for His presence, in faith, to become dense and consistent for me, an attention purified of disturbing presences is necessary, thus preparing the inner chamber, empty of people and clamors.
The more the creatures and images are silenced, the more stripped the soul is, the more it will be perceived that “the Father is there, with you.”
The birds will continue to sing, the engines to hum, the children to shout. You detach your attention from all of that, like one who hears everything and listens to nothing. To silence means to withdraw attention from everything that bustles around, in such a way that the one who prays becomes absent from everything, as if nothing existed. As for bodily silencing, the keyword is to let go. You let go of what is tied. You will feel the sensation that the nerves are tied, let them go; that the muscles are stiff, let them go. To let go, let go is to relax, and to relax is to silence. Tension is clamor; relaxation, silence.
Finally, mental silencing. Memories, images, and thoughts arise; let them go. Feelings and emotions cling to you; let them go, creating an inner void, like someone turning off the light in the room.
Everything has been erased. Everything is empty. Inside of me, there is nothing; outside of me, there is nothing. What remains? The most important thing: the presence of myself to myself in silence and peace.
Only in this moment can I truly feel and say: You are my God; you are with me.
Taken from the book “Itinerario hacia Dios” (Journey Towards God). Chapter III, subtitle: “La cena que recrea y enamora” (The Supper that Recreates and Enamors) by Father Ignacio Larrañaga.
