The divine mystery is not a collection of problems. As the mystics keep chanting, it is a light so bright that it blinds us, that we are bound to experience it as darkness. To become intimate with it, we have to "unknow" worldly knowledge. We have to give up our tendency to assault it as we would a problem, learning to wait patiently for it to reveal itself as an intimate, at times even shy and vulnerable, lover. . . . The mystery never fails to nourish and heal me. I know that my spirit has been made to contemplate it, to love it as the central reality and treasure of my being. It is my lever for moving the world.
The spirit of childhood is a spirit of simplicity and joy that goes together with the greatest intelligence and the most advanced knowledge. Here more than anywhere else the law of contrasts holds: one must be great to be secure enough to be truly childlike -- just as one must be strong to be infinitely gentle, and wise in order to permit oneself to be foolish. Spiritual childhood is a matter of trust and self-surrender into God's hands.