Honoring Silence

The other day, I was driving a colleague to the airport.  We were talking for about fifteen minutes when we both fell silent.  It was one of those lulls in the conversation.  Though it only lasted a few seconds, it felt like it lasted much longer.  I felt like I was failing at something.  Shouldn't I be a good host and nurture the conversation? Instead of honoring the silence, I began to talk just to fill the air.  I am sure that in the next few minutes I said nothing of any consequence and probably said some things better left unsaid.

Sometimes, when ministering to those who are hurting, I feel a compulsion to verbally console them.  Something in us makes us want to make things better.  It is a compassionate desire to want to take away the pain, but we usually can’t.  Especially with grief, it is important that the stages be completed. In those times, it is best to be silent and minister with a compassionate presence.

Silence is not new to me.  I spend much of every day in silence.  Still, there is a silence when I am alone and a silence when I am with others.  The other day, I was at work helping some coworkers prepare for an event.  I looked up at them and said, “Are we done yet: I am feeling chatty and have nothing to say.  That usually gets me into trouble.”  We are a very gregarious society.  We are inordinately chatty.  We have forgotten how to be together and be silent.

We need to recover the ability to be fully present and silent with each other.  There is a time for talk, but there are also times when the talk gets in the way.  The wise person knows the difference.

A Very Simple Story

A man found himself with a great burden on his heart.  He took this burden to God in prayer to see what God had to say to him about it.  For four hours, he poured his heart out to God.  He paced about his study, clenching the breast of his shirt, pleading God to speak to him.  Finally, he fell exhausted into the chair in the corner of his study and shouted, “God why have you not spoken to me!”  After a moment of silence, God replied, “My dear child, I have been trying to speak to you for three and a half hours, but I could not get a word in edgewise.”

The smallness of ministry

Recently, I have entered into a new phase of my ministry.  I have to admit that I have found myself to be a bit over-eager.  I tend to get this way when I get excited about things, and I get excited about ministry.  The problem with this is that, when I get this way, I start to look for the big opportunities that will bring the dramatic results.  I often forget how small ministry can be.  In fact, it can sometimes be rather minuscule.  It is little words said at the right time. Or a little gesture of grace when someone needs it.  We have to look closely to see it, or we will walk right past it.  The secret to this is to be attentive: something that I am not always very good at.  We also need to be willing to me a small minister.  By that I mean that we have to be willing to be a minister of little things.  There is no act of love or compassion so small that it cannot make a difference.

The concept of the smallness of ministry runs contrary to our pride and everything that we are told about ministry success.  But, this is where most of us will live in ministry.  I remember one of my seminary professors saying in class that most of us will never be mega church pastors.  Most of us will minister in seeming obscurity in small parishes around the country.   These small things do, however, have an accumulative effect.  Like small stones in a wall, they can build a ministry over time.  It requires patience (something else that I struggle with) and commitment to a community over time.  However, grand reputations are rarely ever made this way.  To be a minister of the small things means that we must put the call to pastor above our ambitions.  There will be those occasional big events, and we should be grateful for them, but let’s not forget that it is the small ministry that can make the most difference on the long haul.  

Spiritual Feelings

There are times when I feel spiritual, and there are times when I don’t feel much like a Christian at all.  There are times when prayer seems as easy as breathing and times when I just can’t focus on prayer.  I know of many who spend most of their spiritual energy trying to stay in those former places of warm spiritual feelings.  They are to be treasured when they happen, but we can’t stay there.  There are other seasons and times of faith that we must live; and those times when we must pray through the numb feelings inside are just as powerful as the times of consolation.  God is continually at work in us even when we are distracted by the hum-drum of everyday life.  We do not worship a God of escapism.  There is a real now-ness to our faith.  There is a present-ness that embraces the joyful and the tedium of everyday living.  This is the lesson of Brother Lawrence, who found God in the washing of dishes; a job that he was not very thrilled to do at first.  So we must learn to find God in the washing of dishes, in the taking out of the trash, in the paying of bills or in the filing of reports.  Even when our mind feels like a tornado of distraction and worry, Jesus is there to say, “Peace, be still.”

Learning to Pray

The rain is coming down this evening, and I am enjoying the otherwise quiet afternoon.  I turned off the TV several hours ago, and have been studying.  Beside me on my desk are some of my most important spiritual guides: The Bible, the Book of Common Prayer and the Rule of St Benedict.  I spend time in each one every week, and each one shapes my spiritual life.  As I write this, I am reminded of the thin line between work and prayer.
 
When I think of my spiritual walk, I think most of all of silence.  I work in a library and live alone.  This affords me a significant amount of time in relative silence.  This silence is not just the absence of noise.  It is not the absence of anything.  At its richest, it is filled with the presence of God.  It is not the absence of talk either.  It is the prayer of the heart reaching to God, and listening for His voice in return.  The great thing is that this silence does not have to end when I leave the house or the library.  It can be present in the midst of an otherwise chaotic day.  I have heard others speak of the monastery of the heart.

Prayer has become an important part of my spiritual life.  With the help of the Book of Common Prayer, and other supplements, I am endeavoring to keep appointments to meet with God.  In between these times, I am learning to work in a spirit of prayer, to practice the presence of God.  Some days I do well, going nearly the entire day in prayer.  Others I struggle with distractions.  I am always reminded that I am a beginner in learning to pray.

Rethinking Singleness in the Church

In the Protestant tradition, we do not have a good way of handling those who are single later into life.  Perhaps they have made a commitment to singleness for the sake of the Kingdom.  Perhaps they have preferred marriage, but have not felt God leading in that direction.   Perhaps they have just focused on other things.  Whatever the reason, the Church often treats them like they are falling down on the job.  They should be getting married and producing families.

We often tend to look at singles as less mature.  We talk about how being married and having children matures a person.  I have found this to be a less-than-convincing argument.  I am sure that these life changes mature a person in many ways, but there are plenty of immature parents and spouses in the world.  We often forget that the solitude and silence afforded by singleness can have a maturing effect on a person as well. 

I have known many godly single people who have used their singleness to grow in Christ.  One man that I have known for years uses his freedom to visit mission fields and support missionaries.  Another woman that I know lives a life of service to her fellow believers, babysitting and praying for their families.  Another man has committed himself to a life of contemplative prayer, resulting in spiritual gifts that he is able to pass on to others.  Some of these singles are considered modern day saints to those closest to them.

At the root of a single life which is committed fully to God is a denial of self.  I often hear that some have the gift of singleness and some have the gift of marriage, as if a single person does not wrestle with the same desires that a married person has.  Just because a person has the “gift of singleness” does not mean that he or she does not get lonely or long to feel physical intimacy. One story of St Benedict is that one day, while thinking of a woman, be became so inflamed with desire that he threw himself in a brier patch to get his mind off of it.  Also, St. Frances was reported to one have said in his later years, “I may yet have children.”   A single person is just as human as a married person, but without the sexual or romantic outlets of a married person.  Instead, a committed single person has to choose not to engage in those types of relationship for the sake of Christ.  It is, in the truest sense of the word, a green martyrdom.  It is not about waiting for marriage.  Marriage may never come.  It is about loving Christ above all else, even our own comfort.

 

In the city where I live, about 60% of the people are single.  Some are divorces, some widowed, and some never married.  Some are single for a time, others are single for life.  The church needs to embrace the single adult, not by putting them in a class on the other side of the building, but by fully incorporating them into the life of the church.  Singles are part of the Body of Christ as much as large families.  Families cannot say to the single person, “we don’t need you.”  It is only as we live and grow together as one Body of Christ that we can be the fullness of the Church.

Praying Without Words

Someone once said that the reason that men like dogs is that they do not have to talk to them. I often find that to be true in my own life. One of my favorite things is to sit on the sofa and watch a movie with my dog in my lap. I also enjoy quiet walks with my dog. I do sometimes talk to my dog, but most of the time, it is enough for him if we are just together.

 I struggled with prayer most of my life. I was taught that the essence of prayer was talking to God. For someone who is not always chatty, I found this to be a challenge. What a relief it was for me to learn that prayer did not have to be talking. It could be sitting in silence with God just enjoying his company.

Sometimes he has something to say to me as I listed. Other times he does not. The point is not so much to talk as it is to hang out with each other. I sometimes picture Christ with me as I walk or drive. This helps me some times to see the reality of his presence. Sometimes, while sitting in my desk at work, I look up and picture him sitting in a chair across from me. I give a little nod. Sometimes, I make the sign of the cross on my forehead or touch the prayer beads in my pocket. All of these are prayer, yet I might not say a thing.

 I have found that this non-discursive prayer has freed me to experience prayer on a newer level. I don’t feel as pressured to be verbose. When I do lead in public prayer, I find that my prayers are shorter and punctuated with silence. In all of my prayers, I do not have to perform. I can just be.