On the last weekend of November, I was reminded of the French saying: “the more things change, the more they stay the same.”
A group of friends and I went to Warmia to spend time together, meditate, and talk about spirituality.
We reflected on texts that move us and hold meaning for us. Among them was a passage from Thomas Merton’s book New Seeds of Contemplation (New Directions, 2007):
“Where men live huddled together without true communication, there seems to be greater sharing, and a more genuine communion. But this is not communion, only immersion in the general meaninglessness of countless slogans and clichés repeated over and over again so that in the end one listens without hearing and responds without thinking. The constant din of empty words and machine noises, the endless booming of loudspeakers end by making true communication and true communion almost impossible. Each individual in the mass is insulated by thick layers of insensibility. He doesn’t care, he doesn’t hear, he doesn’t think. He does not act, he is pushed. He does not talk, he produces conventional sounds when stimulated by the appropriate noises. He does not think, he secretes clichés.”
In another passage, Merton writes about “[…] turning free, reasonable men into passive instruments of the power politician.”
These are words written 65 years ago. Have they lost any of their relevance?
Statistically, we live more comfortably: we have more, we are healthier, and we live longer. We use technologies and means of communication that didn’t exist in Merton’s lifetime.
And yet, there is less closeness, more loneliness, more division and polarization.
In public spaces and social media, we encounter hatred, language, and voices that express contempt for others and their views.
When it seems we can go no further, someone pushes the boundary again and others follow.
At the same time, a longing remains within us:
for real conversations about what matters,
for deep relationships,
for doing good, supporting others,
for doing meaningful things in meaningful ways despite all the apparent divisions.
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
I am deeply grateful for this trip: for the time together, the conversations, the home created by wonderful people; for the care of those who looked after the space, the heating, and the meals; and for the nature and snow that accompanied us.
We returned with a sense of being a true community.