For the day that’s in it, my Thought for the Day on BBC Radio Ulster reflects on listening.
You can listen here, or read the text below.
Listening on the Twelfth
My first summer in Northern Ireland, I lived in East Belfast. Lying in bed on the morning of the Twelfth, I could hear bands warming up for the day, flutes and drumbeats floating across an otherwise silent city.
I have since lived in other parts of Belfast and I have awoken on the Twelfth to those same sounds. I didn’t grow up in Northern Ireland, but I’ve lived here long enough to know that our people are divided about the sounds of the Twelfth: some of us love them, some of us loathe them.
I’ve often wondered if every citizen of Belfast could hear that early morning music, if they listened hard enough.
Listen. That’s the first word of the Rule of St Benedict. Benedict is a patron saint of Europe and his feast day was yesterday, coinciding with the eleventh night.
Before founding his monasteries, Benedict lived alone in a cave for three years, speaking with no one. In that spirit, Benedictine monks take a vow of silence, speaking only at designated times. The purpose of that vow is to enable them to listen, so that they can better hear what God is saying. The discipline it takes to listen for God in the silence can also help people listen to others.
In 1998, a handful of Benedictine monks arrived in Rostrevor, Co Down, from their base in France, with plans to establish a new monastery. Their foundation decree stated that their monastic community was established ‘to contribute to reconciliation between Catholics and Protestants in a land marked by reciprocal violence and stained by the blood of Christian brothers and sisters.’
One of the French monks vividly remembers his first Twelfth morning. He told me he stood at the window in his white monastic robe, watching the Orange Order parade go by. He said:
I was at the window, like the Pope in white. I was a bit naïve and [those on parade] stopped and they saw me. Later in the evening they rang the bell and brought some food over from their feast and it was an occasion to enter [into conversation].
For that monk, the Twelfth was an opportunity to listen. No matter how you feel about the Twelfth, can you grasp that opportunity today?
(Image: Holy Cross Abbey in Rostrevor, sourced on Facebook).