Uncovering Joy – A Voice in the Wilderness
“And a voice came from heaven,“You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Mark 1:11
Too often the only voice I can hear is my own. When that happens, I know that I need to get out and be a part of some type of community. Even as an introvert, I need other voices. I need to hear something that does not come from the constant stream of me that circulates through my mind attempting to be the only voice I let shape my day. I don‟t even want to train myself to bring to voice self affirmations because that voice is still mine and it is a voice that too often is used to block out other voices. It is not bad to hear those other voices around us – even when those voices may be contrary to what we want to hear
When joy is uncovered, even silence is full of expression and life and hope. There are so many places in the city that give us the opportunity to hear the subtle and varied voice of joy. When we have people around us we are pulled into conversation even as we sit or stand without entering into the give and take. Within this silence – which I would call an urban solitude - you may hear something that changes how you see the rest of the day. It is quite like letting your mind move through a meditative silence. It may run like wild - but you let it keep running - let the voices and ideas roll by - let the images fly by - let the rest come and the clarity emerge - but don’t try to control the flow or we will be tempted to become fixated and absorbed.
Urban solitude is like a breath of fresh air that comes when most people only see congestion or hear noise. At that moment, a gathering of seven Saturday “regulars” were making room for one another, covering the games that were played this past week, making a note of a visit to Israel, and being quite at home with one another. There I was - trying to write. Ha! And yet, it is within this kind of space where my silence was enriched and I was taken outside myself in to the world of others – a streaming world of life waiting to be tapped. Again, even as I sat there, this gathering of neighbors stood up as a friend – obviously recovering from an illness – entered with his partner and joy brook out among them. It was like a lost son coming home and the parent welcomes without condition. I pinched myself...was I living in a biblical story or just having coffee?! Yes.
What I enjoy about such moments of urban solitude is that I am only a twinkling of an eye away from being pulled into conversation or given an opportunity to listen to someone who steps up to the table at which I sit. Sometimes, the visitors into these moments of urban solitude are friends walking by and sharing a greeting. At other times, it is simply a stranger asking to “plug in” to the outlet next to my seat. Then again, even the person asking for change for a cup of coffee draws me into a world I do not always see. I suppose this kind of solitude would drive many people away from an urban setting and out into a wilderness place to be empty of all the noise and voices. That kind of cloistered spirituality is most often affirmed and practiced by people who know much about spirituality. Then again, there must be a voice that is raised up for those of us who daily turn to the mix and mess and movement of the ordinary sounds and lives that appear around us.
Just the other day I was sitting and reading in a public place in the midst of a cacophony of coffee house sounds. Here and there people were meeting to do work, casually sitting down for conversation, and taking the time to rest and be renewed. I was moving into the beginning of a sermon. It was something for the Baptism of Our Lord. There were several streams of thought about how I would approach the sermon. My notes were in place, my “system” of drawing up a flow of thought was taking shape on the legal pad next to the computer, and I was ready to take off. But then, with the burst of a sneeze and a sigh, there was a voice. It was an ordinary voice – a voice we all have heard, “God bless you.” I know - it is a courtesy, right. We say it almost like a reflex. We are taught it is a nice gesture. By the way, does the heart really stop for just a moment when we sneeze...is that why we say that!?!
Usually in the brief moment of time that passes around a sneeze and the customary response from friends and strangers, there may be a corresponding “thank you.” We are all accustomed to an exchange like that. On this day, that which passes by without notice changed the day. A woman’s softly spoken “God Bless You” received a response that made much of that which so often passes by without much consideration. Within that moment of silence that comes whenever we are recovering from a big sneeze I heard, “That’s my first blessing of the day.” This was not a simple courteous response. His voice, his demeanor, his tone of appreciation revealed someone who considered a blessing as something life sustaining and necessary.
Then again, was this another one of my interpretations put onto the life of another person like sticking one’s own world into the world of a biblical text and passing it off as real interpretation? Well, I’m not sure about that. What I do know is that in that exchange of voices in the wilderness of that congested urban setting, came a blessing that was not dismissed or left out in the air like a swirl of congeniality. This man was blessed and he bowed to its announcement and he took it in as something he needed, expected, and longed to hear. I was like a person sitting alongside the River Jordan who was able to hear this blessing that tore open the heaven and was poured over Jesus.
My heart was torn open. We are a people who are blessed before anything happens. We are people who are brought to life by a word that announces that we are beloved. We are empowered and filled with hope by the simple remembrance of our baptism. We are people who long for a voice to break into that which can be the wilderness of our days so that when we stand to face life as it unfolds around us, we will be exactly who we are – beloved of God. I was a witness to the most powerful word we can hear – a blessing. Common, simple, and yet, profoundly appreciated. It was enough to cause someone to count his blessings - literally.
I looked at my watch. It was fifteen minutes after noon. It was the first blessing this man heard that day. It did not matter that it was a part of a nice gesture. He held it up and he appeared to rest in that moment of stillness after the storm of his sneeze. For a moment my mind raced through my days. When had I heard a blessing as simple as that? It was most likely at home. It seems as though my wife and I are often dueling sneezers. With that we bless one another quite often. I fall victim to the mere note of courtesy in my voice or the “holy cow” of a blessing that looks over to see if her nose is still attached to her head. But in that holy place where a blessing was offered and it was met with a response that completed a circle of grace, I thought of others, like me, who long to be blessed and who often wait too long between hearing those words spoken to us. Then again, when was the last time I spoke a word of blessing or touched someone and blessed them – for no reason except the fact that I am only bringing to voice what our God is continuously offering to us.
Out in the wilderness of our lives that may be congested with urban noises and voices, each of us can be the longed for reminder of our place within this day. Blessed are you...and you...and you. Yes, we are surrounded by the strange mix of people that fill our cities and move quickly from here to there amid images that rush by us more quickly than we can truly notice, but there is the time and there is the need to bless – freely. An urban devotional is filled with faces and accents and colors that are constantly beckoning us to open our eyes and let that which God has created be our points of meditation and contemplation. Such a devotional is set in front of the backdrop of the heavens tearing open and heaven and earth resting within the arms of one another. This is cosmic adventure that takes place each time we look, with prayerful eyes, at the blessedness of God’s people who are tossed around us like the pages of a book of prayer – open with the hope of grounding us in God’s grace and mercy.
What has become very aware to me as I write is the simple fact that I am talking to myself. I am within myself. I am lost in this stream of reflection that is serving to center me and keep me open to God’s blessed diversity and the wonder it creates within me. So, I suppose I am “retreating” just like people who go off to houses of retreat or monasteries. There is also the realization that at any moment the reflection stops and action begins. At any moment, the heavens can tear open and life will be handed to me - life that is blessed and life that blesses.
Here in this place the followers of Jesus become people who are aware of the closeness of God‟s Reign even as we meander through the mundane spaces and times within the city. To abide in these common places and yet be aware of heaven and earth dancing as one around us, brings with it a sense of being an alien and a resident – simultaneously. In one way, we are passing through this space and time and yet, it is all that is. We are invited to be available to see beyond our own space and uncover the joy and grace and surprise that come in the form of those around us. For here in the middle of that which we so often miss come the voices and actions that keep us grounded within a blessedness that is the power to shape life. God bless you.
TRRR
TRRR
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