Stillness of Heart

Be Still and Know that I Am God.
Psalm 46

Stillness. Man, that isn't something this world seems to come by naturally. Maybe in some cultures, but certainly not our western, commercially-driven, consumer society. No, rather, our world-all cultures really, the human heart; we all seem to be driven by noise. I think noise is the opposite of stillness. Noise shows up in an awful lot of ways: anxious thoughts, busy schedules, music and commercials and other background sounds continuously playing and vying for attention, even words-empty, meaningless words that quickly seek to fill awkward moments of silence when it does arrive.

Noise is our natural bent. And yet the writer in Psalm 46 speaks the very Words of God, "Be still, and know that I Am God." Be still. Stillness of heart, I have to say, is the very internal struggle that I have continued to fight for most of my life. What I write, even when I participate in meaningless conversation, pursuits that I passionately devote myself to, all stem from this inner struggle of finding stillness, of learning to be still. Stillness in my heart. And I believe that that is what God is asking from us throughout His written Word (and spoken through the life of Jesus). Physical stillness is an outword expression that can beget a life of inner stillness... stillness of heart.

When I think of stillness or contemplation I immediately think of the story in the Bible where Jesus goes to visit His very good friends, sisters Mary and Martha. Martha is expecting company and so is very busy bustling around the kitchen in an effort to make sure everything is just right. Mary sits at Jesus' feet and listens to Him as He teaches, possibly shares a story or two from the day; but mainly she's just sitting-being-in stillness. This is not the place for the typical conversation that comes up, discussing the need and differences and benefits between the "active" and the "contemplative" life. It just is amuzing to me how hard it is for us to ever sit and be still. And especially if that stillness is an effort to know that He is God.

This truly is the core of what I've been struggling with over the past few months. In some ways, working in a church makes for an even tougher struggle in being still, I think because the opportunity to 'do' is around constantly, and frankly, people expect some type of 'do' and get a little frustrated when there is not a 'do' that is producing in an efficient manner. Stillness does not provide effiency it seems. I'm reading this great book entitled "Contemplative Youth Ministry" by Mark Yaconelli, and he borrows some awesome quotes that have sparked some of my thinking. Maybe this will further explain my previous idea of effiency and what I am desperately longing for in a lifestyle:

Religion is not our concern; it is God's concern. The sooner we stop thinking we are the energetic operators of religion and discover that God is at work... so much the sooner do we discover that our task is to call people to be still and know, listen, hearken in quiet invitation to the subtle promptings of the Divine. Our task is to encourage others first to let go, to cease striving, to give over this fevered effort of the self-sufficient religionist trying to please an external deity. I am persuaded that religious people do not with sufficient seriousness count on God as an active factor in the affairs of the world. "Behold, I stand at the door and knock," but too many well-intentioned people are so preoccupied with the clatter of effort to do something for God that they don't hear Him asking that He might do something through them.
-Thomas Kelly, A Testament of Devotion

I am currently in Colorado, my home, for the Christmas season. My wife and I were very much looking forward to spending a few days at home with my parents, but the funny thing is how you always plan vacation time in a way that gets you back to your routine so you don't miss too many beats. Well, unlike many winters of drout that Colorado has had, this year God delivered snow. A lot of snow. We were supposed to fly out of DIA this evening, but because of road conditions and many cancelled flights, there was just no way of heading home. We changed our flight for the Monday following this weekend. We've been snowed in for two days. Two more days to go. I thought tonight I was beginning to go a little stir crazy, but then something happened-I lost desire to read, I lost my desire to watch tv-even sleep. I just laid on my bed, looking around my old room that I grew up in, and simply got lost in thought. But not just daydreaming. I mean, I was very aware of an inner stillness that was taking place in me.

I was aware of something else too. Sadness. Sorrow. Its almost as if the closer my heart got to truly being still (and knowing that He is God) the more sorrow set in. Now the idea of sorrow sounds bleak and distasteful initially. And I must admit my first thought was to pick up a magazine or grab a computer and do some emailing. But instead I just sat there. The sorrow didn't necessarily subside, but it wasn't unpleasant. I don't know really how to describe it-I was just there, with this kind of sad feeling, but with a very real sense of joy at the same time. And so this is what I'm wondering; maybe stillness of heart comes by way of sorrow, or a kind of suffering. And even more, maybe that is why we are creatures of busyness and noise-the idea of sorrow and suffering is repulsive.

But sorrow and suffering are of most importance and vitality to our lives. Hinds feet in High Places is an amazing book by Hannah Hunard. It is an allegorical story about a girl, Much Afraid, who after much encouragement decides to journey to the High Places. She is given two companions to act as guides for her, and there names are Sorrow and Suffering. They are not pleasant companions at the beginning of Much Afraid's journey, but by the end she cannot imagine traveling without their welcome company.

I believe that Hunard found out a secret truth-one however that Christ lived in all His years-that we cannot truly live and love without embracing sorrow and suffering. And I'm thinking that we can't embrace them if we aren't willing to slow down, to be still, to hurt, to know.... Remember? Relationship and suffering go hand in hand. If we want to love people and give to them, we are going to have to experience sorrow. It is out of sorrow and suffering and silence and stillness that we can love. Because we cannot love if we don't know God. The apostle John tells us that. And God asks us to be still and know Him. Sorrow, stillness, silence, suffering, love.

The more we receive in silent prayer, the more we can give in our active life. We need silence to be able to touch souls. The essential thing is not what we say, but what God says to us and through us. All our words will be useless unless they come from within. Words which do not give the Light of Christ increase the darkness.
-Mother Teresa of Calcutta

Maybe the knee-jerk reaction then is to turn away from love and from others. Or maybe the more typical response is to simply 'try harder' in our efforts to love by spending more time doing and not being. I mean, we run in an economy of effiency, right? Who has time for sorrow and suffering and silence and stillness? We've got work to do. But do not run. I think God is saying that to us now, "Do not run my child. Be still. Embrace the sorrow for there you will find Me. Trust Me, sit with Me, be with Me. And then you will know My love and you will be My love to others. Be still and know that I Am God.

"Henri Nouwen in his book, The Inner Voice of Love, writes,

You will discover that the more love you can take in and hold on to, the less fearful you will become. You will speak more simply, more directly, and more freely about what is important to you, without fear of other people's reactions. You will also use fewer words, trusting that you communicate your true self even when you do not speak much. The more you come to know yourself-spirit, mind, and body-as truly loved, the freer you will be to proclaim the good news. That is the freedom of the children of God.

And so it is. Do not fear, do not run. Have faith, trust your Father as a child and cling to Him in stillness and wonder and silence. He carries our sorrows and suffering and changes them into love; love that He longs to live through us to the world around us. It is anti-culture, opposite of our society, but it is what our world most needs-Jesus-stillness of heart. Amen.