This summer, nobody has bothered to ask, "What's up?" probably because everything is. The past few months have been loaded with "historic" news events. (Are there any other kind anymore?) An early debate debacle, an assassination attempt, flashpoint interviews, hearings, resignations: the steady stream of upheaval has been more than enough to give everyone a case of spiritual and psychological whiplash. So, I suspect I'm not the only one screaming to get off the national Tilt-A-Whirl. But how?

In the middle of all this craziness, a significant number of Catholics gathered in Indianapolis for the National Eucharistic Congress. There were the usual Catholic "headliners" and exhibitors, daily Masses, all-day sacramental confessions, perpetual adoration, and even a one-mile eucharistic procession. Coupled with the presence of more than 200 bishops and thousands of priests and religious -- the snafus were minimal and the programming was good.

If that had been the whole of what the congress offered, it probably would have been worth the effort and expense it took to produce it. But the NEC was not just a bigger and better Catholic conference. While speakers and musicians made great contributions to the event, the deepest moments occurred when all the microphones were turned off. That is because the sound of excellent words well spoken or sung can't hold a candle to the silence of 50,000 people on their knees before Jesus in the Holy Eucharist. And that was very good.

What unfolded in Indianapolis was a foretaste of heaven. It was like what John beautifully describes in the Book of Revelation.

"When the Lamb opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven for about half an hour. And I saw the seven angels who stand before God, and seven trumpets were given to them.

"Another angel with a golden censer came and stood at the altar; he was given a great quantity of incense to offer with the prayers of all the saints on the golden altar that is before the throne. And the smoke of the incense, with the prayers of the saints, rose before God from the hand of the angel." (Rev 8:1-4)

Those who showed up in Indy were blessed to witness the silence of heaven, and the smoke of incense mingling with the prayers of the saints ascending to God. At the National Eucharistic Congress, the Catholic Church in America was at her best, because she was on her knees. Humble before God, the Bride of Christ gazed deeply at her divine spouse with adoration and awe. Recognizing her need for repentance and healing, the broken Body of Christ gathered in unity and joy.

Silence like what was experienced at the Eucharistic Congress is the answer to all the craziness around us. The whirlwind does not have set our souls spinning. The news of the day may affect us, but it does not have to afflict us. Our God is a rock and there is no other. He is a shelter, our refuge and our strength. Because He is faithful, we need not be afraid, even though "the earth should change, though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea; though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble with its tumult." (Ps 46: 2-3)

The haranguing voices we hear on the surface disappear in the depths. All we need to do is turn off the speakers and the microphones. "Be still" says the psalmist, "and know that I am God." (Ps 46:10)

The transformation and life Jesus wants to bring to us are available right where we are. We don't have to travel somewhere or sign up to do something to find it. The pathways to Zion -- and to heaven -- are in our hearts. We will know that we are there when we can hear the space between the notes and the silence in heaven beyond all the noise of earth.



- Jaymie Stuart Wolfe is a Catholic convert, wife, and mother of eight. Inspired by the spirituality of St. Francis de Sales, she is an author, speaker, and musician, and provides freelance editorial services to numerous publishers and authors as the principal of One More Basket. Find Jaymie on Facebook or follow her on Twitter @YouFeedThem.