Mariposa Lily
March 24, 2010
In Our Midst
God of Moses
in burning bush;
great pillars of smoke and fire;
God of justice, compassion, splendor,
jealous for His people's desire.
God of surmounting awe and glory--
hide thyself as He passes by-
face of blinding radiance:
Holy God of power, glory,
Yahweh is nearby.
God of Moses
in our midst--
this is sacred ground;
God Himself come close to hear us--
King of kings, world-renowned.
God of life, the light, our Love,
in the Spirit dwells within us--
servants to daughters and sons.
God of greatest majesty,
transform our hearts, Your chosen ones.
March 21, 2010
Silence, part three
A time of silence, or solitude, is hard to find, and thus a treasure. The idea of it may not sound particularly beautiful--in fact, it may sound (and even feel) uncomfortable. I think it's a good thing anyway, for it is a place to listen to God and exercise trust in Him.
Silence is a place to listen to God.
We see God revealing himself in silence when the prophet Elijah seeks the Lord in order to voice his complaints. Elijah hides behind a rock, and a "great and strong wind" tears the mountains to pieces, "but the Lord was not in the wind." Then there is an earthquake, and a fire, and the Lord is not in these, either.
Both Psalms, read in their entirety (something I would suggest), are a wonderful declaration of trust--a topic I will discuss shortly.
It is often easy to grow frustrated, or complain God is not speaking...perhaps, sometimes, we forget to take time to listen; to quiet our hearts and just be still before Him, resting in His presence.
"Sit down on the bench." I looked at the park bench in the grass and flowers, and I argued. Couldn't I go brush my teeth first? Prepare for class? "Go sit on the bench." Why? Was I supposed to talk to someone passing by after breakfast? "Go sit on the bench." At least let me brush my teeth and come back? (I was a little on the grumpy side, too.) But He was adamant, so I sat. And I waited. I thought maybe there was someone I was supposed to talk to, but everyone passed without even noticing me. And I sat, and waited. Maybe God wanted to talk to me about something, or pray for something. So I waited. I watched the bumblebees as they zoomed among the flowers, and I watched the butterflies floating along calmly, too. And I waited. Now could I go? "Sit on the bench." I must have asked half a dozen times; the answer stayed the same, and I was thoroughly puzzled. So I waited. I let myself enjoy the warm sun and the vivid green of the grass and the busy workings of insects. Finally, He said I could go. I didn't understand; there had been no conversation; no revelation. I shrugged and went about my day.
Doesn't it seem frustrating and pointless at times? Why, God? "Sit on the bench." Only later that day, in the afternoon or evening, did I realize that I had gone about class, the morning, the day,with a completely clear head and fully functioning mind. Gone was the thick, foggy heaviness that made it difficult to think. God doesn't waste anything, much less our time. And sometimes He's just making us exercise obedience and trust, building diligence and habit so we can hear Him next time.
Silence is an exercise in trust. It's uncomfortable sometimes, isn't it? There's not enough time--I'm tired--I have homework--I wanted to talk to so-and-so. There is always so much to do!
In order to pause and be still, we must recognize that God is in control of our lives, not us. He will keep holding the universe together even if I take a break. He will keep the earth spinning on its axis and rotating the earth around the sun without me or even you. Can I then trust Him to my day? Can I stop my runnings-around for a few moments and trust God will not let my world collapse on my shoulders?
In the same passage I quoted earlier, Augustine acknowledges this struggle in his soul.
And in Psalm 62, David tells his soul to wait for God in silence because his hope is from Him; He is his rock and salvation, his fortress (he will not be shaken); His mighty rock, his refuge, is God.
Perhaps you can only manage five minutes a day , and that with much difficulty. I think even this investment will prove to be worth your while if you are consistent.
For this, to me, is the beauty and importance of silence.
Silence is a place to listen to God.
We see God revealing himself in silence when the prophet Elijah seeks the Lord in order to voice his complaints. Elijah hides behind a rock, and a "great and strong wind" tears the mountains to pieces, "but the Lord was not in the wind." Then there is an earthquake, and a fire, and the Lord is not in these, either.
And after the fire the sound of a low whisper. And when Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. And behold, there came a voice to him and said, "What are you doing here, Elijah?" (1 Kings 19:11-13)My Bible has a footnote after "the sound of a low whisper" which reads, "Or a sound, a thin silence. While God has been known to reveal Himself in other ways, sometimes we must wait for the silence. Many of the Psalms speak of being intentionally quiet to wait for the Lord.
For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence,for my hope is from him.(Psalm 62:5)
"Be still, and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth!" (Psalm 46:10)
It is often easy to grow frustrated, or complain God is not speaking...perhaps, sometimes, we forget to take time to listen; to quiet our hearts and just be still before Him, resting in His presence.
Do not be vain, my soul. Do not deafen your heart's ear with the tumult of your vanity. Even you have to listen. The Word himself cries to you to return. There is a place of undisturbed quietness where love is not deserted if it does not itself depart. (Augustine, Confessions, xi:16)Sometimes, we become still before God yet do not hear Him speak, or at least nothing we consider meaningful or even profound. But He still blesses us in these moments for the time and trust given to Him. For instance, when I was teaching English at a camp to students in the Czech Republic, there was one morning in which I felt especially tired and groggy; rather as if I were getting a headache. I'd finished breakfast, and had about half an hour until class started, and was heading across the courtyard to my room when a quiet voice came into my head--more like a thought than a voice.
"Sit down on the bench." I looked at the park bench in the grass and flowers, and I argued. Couldn't I go brush my teeth first? Prepare for class? "Go sit on the bench." Why? Was I supposed to talk to someone passing by after breakfast? "Go sit on the bench." At least let me brush my teeth and come back? (I was a little on the grumpy side, too.) But He was adamant, so I sat. And I waited. I thought maybe there was someone I was supposed to talk to, but everyone passed without even noticing me. And I sat, and waited. Maybe God wanted to talk to me about something, or pray for something. So I waited. I watched the bumblebees as they zoomed among the flowers, and I watched the butterflies floating along calmly, too. And I waited. Now could I go? "Sit on the bench." I must have asked half a dozen times; the answer stayed the same, and I was thoroughly puzzled. So I waited. I let myself enjoy the warm sun and the vivid green of the grass and the busy workings of insects. Finally, He said I could go. I didn't understand; there had been no conversation; no revelation. I shrugged and went about my day.
Doesn't it seem frustrating and pointless at times? Why, God? "Sit on the bench." Only later that day, in the afternoon or evening, did I realize that I had gone about class, the morning, the day,with a completely clear head and fully functioning mind. Gone was the thick, foggy heaviness that made it difficult to think. God doesn't waste anything, much less our time. And sometimes He's just making us exercise obedience and trust, building diligence and habit so we can hear Him next time.
Silence is an exercise in trust. It's uncomfortable sometimes, isn't it? There's not enough time--I'm tired--I have homework--I wanted to talk to so-and-so. There is always so much to do!
In order to pause and be still, we must recognize that God is in control of our lives, not us. He will keep holding the universe together even if I take a break. He will keep the earth spinning on its axis and rotating the earth around the sun without me or even you. Can I then trust Him to my day? Can I stop my runnings-around for a few moments and trust God will not let my world collapse on my shoulders?
In the same passage I quoted earlier, Augustine acknowledges this struggle in his soul.
Do not be vain, my soul. Do not deafen your heart's ear with the tumult of your vanity. Even you have to listen. The Word himself cries to you to return. There is a place of undisturbed quietness where love is not deserted if it does not itself depart. See how these things pass away to give place to others, and how the universe in this lower order is constituted out of all its parts. 'Surely I shall never go anywhere else,' says the word of God. Fix your dwelling there. Put in trust there whatever you have from him, my soul, at least now that you are weared of deceptions. Entrust to the truth whatever has come to you from the truth. You will lose nothing. The decayed parts of you will be healed (Matt. 4:23; Ps. 103:3). All that is ebbing away from you will be given fresh form and renewed, bound tightly to you."
There is beauty in pausing from the rush and hurry and quieting oneself before God, realizing He is the source of everything and in Him everything rests, outside our strivings (please read Matthew 6:25-34). There is a deep and wondrous peace, and through this, joy.Trust in him at all times, O people;pour out your heart before him;God is a refuge for us. (verse 8)
Perhaps you can only manage five minutes a day , and that with much difficulty. I think even this investment will prove to be worth your while if you are consistent.
For this, to me, is the beauty and importance of silence.
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