One day, the story goes, a discussion arose among the followers of the legendary hero Fionn MacCumhaill as to what was the finest music in the world. "The cuckoo calling from the tallest tree in the hedge," said one. "The ring of a spear on a shield," said another. Others named their favourite music - the belling of a stag across water, the song of a lark, the laughter of a girl.
"Tell us chief," asked one of the men, "What do you think?"
"The music of what happens," said Fionn, "that is the finest music in the world." People who are attuned to the minor miracles of each day find life full of meaning. Sunny days or rainy days - whatever comes is welcomed. In the ordinary give and take of a day, the routines of work and play, of eating and drinking, they catch a glimpse of the divine.
Most of us live lives, maybe not of quiet desperation, but ones that are ordinary, unspectacular. Many want to escape and avidly soak up details of the lives of others, especially the rich and famous. The great demand for magazines and programmes detailing the style and habits of the wealthy and powerful says something of the desire in people to escape the banality or dullness of their lives. They want colour, lights, action! How boring by comparison are the routines of family, work, the daily drudgeries that are their lot. They are not really fooled by all the glitz and glamour, they may not really want it, but they want something different from the ordinary.
People on the spiritual path can experience a not dissimilar disappointment with their lives. How far they are from the holiness of Teresa or Therese! How timid their heart when they consider Oscar Romero or Dorothy Day! What hope have they as they plod along seemingly not making any great progress?
It's as if we measure our lives by the high points, the golden moments that sometimes surprise us. We disregard the ordinary common happenings of each day. The ‘music of what happens' is heard by those who value the ordinariness of life. God's presence is found not just on the days when we feel ourselves to be in a seventh heaven, like Peter and the Apostles on Mt Tabor, but on days when we are tired and thirsty and just want to sit down and rest, like Jesus by the well in Samaria.
In this fragmented age we look for roots, for a centre that holds, a homeness with ourselves that withstands the frenetic pace of modern life. Perhaps it is the little things that point the way - the unseen gestures of kindness, the patience in times of hassle, the unsung loving service to family, the quiet faithfulness to duty, the gossip avoided, the words of blessing freely bestowed.
It is surely not insignificant that one of the greatest saints of modern times, Therese of Lisieux, found a very simple and direct path, a ‘little way' to heaven by embracing the bits and pieces of each day with great love, finding God even in the most mundane tasks. Like her, we too will find the Lord right where we are if we but tune into the silent music of his presence.
Sister Redempta Twomey is a Columban Sister living in Ireland.