Comfort in the Quiet

During the chapter, "Church," all I could think about was how odd it was that the monks were cleaning up the machine guns and reassembling them. I thought that monks were known for peace and solitude and then O'Brien has them putting together life-killing weapons. The irony is kind of funny, actually. I almost think that O'Brien did it on purpose, making fun of the Church or something. The Church is always professing their negativity towards war and violence; yet, there are still wars about religion. I think O'Brien is trying to bring that to the attention of the audience, much like Hemingway did in his book, The Sun Also Rises.

"...but I do like churches. The way it feels inside. It feels good when you just sit there, like you're in a forest and everything's really quiet, except there is's still this sound you can't hear," (page 116).

Kiowa is on target with this one. When I attend Mass on the weekends, the actual liturgy does not ever do much for me. Every once in awhile, when I can pay attention to the homily long enough, the priest can reach me and I understand and enjoy the message he is trying to get through to the congregation. But more than anything, the silence can always reach me. I love to think and meditate and there is no place better than when you are sitting in church surrounded by a hundred people doing the same thing you are. There is a senes of comfort in the quiet. For the men in the story, they know violence; they see violence every day. Because of that, they also know peace, and I cannot imagine what it would feel like to be a hostile soldier with a peaceful soul.