Uncovering Joy – Sounds of Silence
“When he had come near Bethphage and Bethany at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of the disciples, saying, „Go into the village ahead of you, and as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, „Why are you untying it” just say this, „The Lord needs it.‟ Then they brought it to Jesus; and after throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it. As he rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks on the road. As he was now approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, saying. „Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!‟ Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, „Teacher, order your disciples to stop.‟ He answered, „I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.‟” Luke 19:29-40
Silence is a gift filled with insight and openness and the potential for the renewal of one’s heart. Silence cannot be grasped or owned or manufactured. One of the best bits of advice I received in regard to meditation was to not be afraid to let my thoughts run freely. Usually, whenever I would try to meditate, I always tried to bring about a blank slate or completely immerse myself in a focal point. To be quite frank, meditation felt like another job that had to be done. Therefore, I realized that I did not have the gift of contemplation that comes to some who are able to - and even must – be alone and be silent in the midst of a setting that provides utter silence.
Spirituality and the practice of spiritual renewal and spiritual retreats are most often lifted up by the faithful who have greatly appreciated the discipline of silence and retreat away from what might be considered the confines and clutter of the everyday walk through life. The common and the ordinary can be exhausting. The patterns and routines of our day can become so overwhelming that some kind of retreat is necessary in order to simply open up one’s lungs to a full breath of fresh air and then another and another and another.
Not everyone can get away - go to a place other than their everyday world. Not everyone finds a time of retreat from the mundane to be a time of renewal and refreshment. Over the years I have found that I may not be gifted like others who uncover joy in moments and places of solitude. This does not mean that I cannot live within silence. Rather, it is as though my mind and heart and spirit do not find such practices to be the way in which God’s Reign is opened up for me to see and hear. More and more I find that God really never waits for the right time and the right moment and the right setting to shout out a promise or unveil a path of renewal of life. More and more I find that I have a personal history in which I am pulled aside within the rush of the day and God is able to crack open my heart and carry me into a profound moment of peace that changes how I see myself and the world that is continually coming into bloom around me.
Within the confines of our everyday lives, we are given so much time to look up and breathe and be silent. Some days, that doesn’t happen. The moments are skipped in pursuit of that which we are convinced is the real agenda of the day. There is always something that can consume my attention and my time. The noise of the day that I let lead me and shape me and take away my breath is most often a part of my own creation. The score of my life that I attempt to write while I am moving through my life often forbids me from taking note of what God is placing in front of me even as I move through the schedule on my desktop or in my mind.
A wise woman was once counseling me during a time in my life when I was feeling scattered and unbalanced and unsure of my next step. She told me to put my feet on the ground. She suggested that when I am in the middle of a meeting when my mind was running along trying to keep up with that which was being said and I am simultaneously attempting to build an argument while also making mental connections to related information, simply put both feet on the ground. That simple action came with a simple discovery – I rested. There was a pause that took me out of my running screenplay. It let me experience the silence of my heart. That silence gave me time to see and hear the actions and voices from a new place. I found that I was much more engaged in the dynamics of the room and felt a freedom to simply be me – child of God. That is sometimes lost in the passing of the ordinary times of our lives.
This breathing and this silence and this simple act of looking up at that which is circling around us are vital parts to the discipline of urban spirituality. There is time to see God’s presence and be moved into the new life that God’s presence always brings to us. Between here and there within our daily schedule can be the simple observation of both the wholeness and the brokenness of our world. This reality must always be seen within the embrace of God’s unreserved and eternal connection to each of us – right now and right here. The peaceable Reign of God comes even as we are going about other things. It is not something that must be planned. It is a gift handed to us. Can we let ourselves take notice of how a room filled with strangers becomes a voice of invitation to step beyond ourselves? Can we let ourselves look up and see a group of teens going about their conversations and antics and experience our child who longs to laugh and be utterly free?
The stones of our lives are waiting to talk to us. Along a beach in Mexico I would start my day with a long walk. A friend asked me to pick up any interesting shells I might see and bring them back to Ohio. While I walked, I noticed I had an agenda. I also noticed that it altered the way that I walked. I was on the lookout. It was as though I might miss something if I went too fast or I might pass something by if I didn’t keep my eyes to the sand.
On my second day of walking, I had no luck finding any special shells and decided to walk without that agenda dogging me. It was then that I started to notice the wonderful array of stones sprinkled on the beach each morning. I thought about picking up some stones. Then I realized that I would never have the opportunity to walk. There were so many stones – so many colors – so many textures – so much variety I would spend all my time on my knees trying to get a better look at each cluster of stones.
In the great expanse of stones cluttering the beach I did take note of a stone here and a stone there. Each one caught my eye and seemed to cry out to me. It is important to note that I was walking with my headset on listening to my album pick for the day. So there I was, singing and moving to the music, looking out over the water, taking note of the people on the beach, and glancing at homes and businesses at beachside. In some ways, it was as though I am walking along any neighborhood street back home. To avoid stopping for a special looking stones, I would leave it there and take note of a marker on the beach and I told myself I would catch it on the way back. This was done with the realization that I was probably never going to see that stone again. Truth was, every time I did that, the stone was still calling out to me on my return trip. Each day I came back to the condo with a few stones.
On a late afternoon trip back to the condo with several stones in my hand I looked up to see a most precious stone. A woman was sitting on the beach at the point where the waves would wash around her. The tide was already pulling back into the ocean but these last waves rolling over the sand cooled her and let a bit of water trickle into the basin of sand she made at the edge of the wet and dry sand on the beach. There in that basin rocking back and forth in a small pool of water was an infant within reach of his mother. On the dry sand was the father watching the two playing in the cool water and sand. It was a beachside manger scene. These were local folks – not tourists. Tourists collect stones – locals care for their precious stones with long hours of work and then find a bit of time at the end of the work day (or the beginning of another shift) to take in the joy of their child. This was not a family of means.
I walked up to the mother and asked how old her boy was - only a handful of months was the reply – a hearty stone! They let me simply stand there and watch him play in that basin for few moments. I thanked them and left them with a simple blessing. In the silence of that moment with wave crashing, birds screeching, and children playing, this precious stone called out to remind me of the reality of the world in which I was walking. It was not a world of shells and leisurely walks and a collection of stones. It was a walk within the depths of our human predicament. A walk in which some seem to have much and some seem to have so little.
Each day I would go back to rest at the pool or on the couch in the condo. The people I met would go back to their daily routine that I walked by each day but now considered with a different eye. At first I experienced a moment of utter melancholy. But then, looking back and seeing that precious stone rocking in that sand basin of water, I realized that this is the joy to the world that is promised to all of us no matter what our place of life may be.
I wondered about the fullness of life that comes to each of us when we are reminded of how we are so connected to one another even as we are so separated. I wondered about the welfare of that family living within the routines of their ordinary life that is so different from mine. Sometimes, as we walk along the way, the stones cry out to us to remind us of the wonderful beauty of God’s people. As we continue to walk and pick up stones and find an occasional shell of some worth we also are handed insights that will continue to bring us back to the joy that comes to each of us when we see and hear the beauty of our humanity in that which is not us. Cluttered spaces and times in which we uncover joy are available to us each day for these stones of God’s creation will cry out to us no matter where we are.
TRRR
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