Music is about as physical as it gets: your essential rhythm is your heartbeat; your essential sound, your breath. We’re walking temples of noise, and when you add tender hearts to this mix, it somehow lets us meet in places we couldn’t get to any other way.
I take so much delight in the silence of the men in the Christmas story. Zechariah can't speak. Joseph doesn't speak. While the words and emotions of Mary and Elizabeth are unapologetically centered. The sound of Advent is the voice of women.
In the silence of a midwinter dusk, there is a sound so faint that for all you can tell it may be only the sound of the silence itself. You hold your breath to listen. You are aware of the beating of your heart. The extraordinary thing that is about to happen is...
Church members get more upset over sound, temp, and music styles than empty prayer rooms, altars, and baptistries.
Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. Truth and courage aren't always comfortable, but they're never weakness.
We are slowed down sound and light waves, a walking bundle of frequencies tuned into the cosmos. We are souls dressed up in sacred biochemical garments and our bodies are the instruments through which our souls play their music.
The true purpose of all spiritual disciplines is to clear away whatever may block our awareness of that which is God in us... It will be in order to suggest certain simple aids to this end. One of these is the practice of silence, or quiet. As a child I was accustomed...
Whatever your listening experience, you take music through the senses. Hearing is like breathing, but through the ears. Sound flows into and throughout your body like oxygen. You can think of the body, with its nerves and heartstrings, as the lyre upon which your life...
Music is expression of harmony in sound. Love is the expression of harmony in life.
I wept at the beauty of your hymns and canticles, and was powerfully moved at the sweet sound of your Church singing. These sounds flowed into my ears, and the truth streamed into my heart. from Confessions, IX