Tag Archive for Silence

Championing the Hermit

the hermitThe world is run by extroverts, and if you don’t believe me then you have probably never been to church camp. Our churches, our public education system, our offices, they are all geared towards teams, collaboration, interaction…extroverts. Now, let’s be quick to notice that, were it up to us introverts, we would have none of those organizations. Introverts don’t seek each other out and bound together to form organizations. We’re introverts… So before going further, let’s recognize and be thankful for the gift of diversity.

Over the last week I have gotten to listen to between 15-20 graduating college seniors give speeches to their fellow ACU students. Without fail, every one has given advice like the following: “Don’t keep to yourself; get out of your dorm room and go where the other people are. Don’t be a hermit.” Those who know me will not be surprised that I started my speech saying, “I feel like the person everyone has told you not to be.” I get labeled anti-social.

I like being a hermit. I like being withdrawn, being in solitude, being quiet, reading books, being reflective. I often do, as Lyle Lovett notes, live in my own mind. And I can’t help but wonder why the hermit has become an object of contempt. I recognize the necessity of extroverts and the need for people like me to push into social relationships, and I am not talking about the privatization of worship: Church, worship, the bible, and God’s mission in the world are not about me. I want to resist the self-centered gospel with everything that is in me. I am firm believer that silence and solitude should lead us into communal worship, but I believe worship should lead us right back into solitude. My point is simply this: in a church climate such as ours I can’t help but feel like we would benefit from being less social, less noisy, less together.Antisocial1-300x206

The following are from the Introvert Manifesto of Susan Cain‘s social-psych book Quiet:

-Texting is popular because in an overly extroverted society, everyone craves asynchronous, non-face-to-face communication

- Solitude is a catalyst for innovation

-We teach kids in group classrooms not because this is the best way to learn but because it’s cost-efficient, and what else would we do with the children while all the grown-ups are at work? If your child prefers to work autonomously and socialize one-on-one, there’s nothing wrong with her; she just happens not to fit the model.

-Love is essential, gregariousness is optional

technology and media are too much noiseDespite the fact that Cain is not thinking of religion, I can’t but feel like she is on to something the church should hear: How much fruit has come from our “high impact” worship when it is uncoupled with solitude and reflection? Why is the kid at church camp who wants to go read his bible alone in the woods considered weird? Would we be willing to sacrifice “team building exercises” to build a few intimate friendships? Where are the centers in our buildings for silent prayer? How well would 3 minutes of total silence go over in your congregation? Does our worship model to our churches the power of language and the sanctity of imagination or are we adding to our culture’s saturation of words?

grumpy old man from UPPerhaps I am just being a crotchety hermit and am tired of feeling like an outsider. But perhaps I’m right and we could consider leaning against a distracted, overly “connected” culture; and in a world of noise and wordiness offer a sanctuary of solitude where seekers might find enough quiet to encounter the voice of God.

 

Questions: The Man Behind the Curtain

This is the third post in the Questions I’m Asking series.

credible hulkIn my last post I spoke about the difficulty to cultivate more than faith as an intellectual exercise, and I have written posts previously about my difficulty in worship services, but I would like to return to the subject of worship for this post and discuss what I believe is a major problem among my peers as we go into ministry: I do not know how to worship, so I worry about my spiritual health.

I don’t do worship well. I don’t “get anything out of it.” And before you dismiss this though as another, “it’s not about getting something out of it;” “God is worthy of our worship;” “you’re over-thinking it” rant, please hear me out. I’ve spent the better part of my life observing the planning and orchestrating of worship. I’ve spent the last four years studying scripture and preaching. I know how “Church” is “done;”  and  I can’t turn my hyper-analysis off during worship. I’ve seen the man behind the curtain and I can’t un-see him. This is a typical worship service for me:

pay-no-attention-to-that-man-behind-the-curtainOpening song- “Throw back hymn to get everyone’s attention”

Communion Thoughts- “We asked this family to go up together, nice touch.”

Short-term missions group shares: “Heart-felt but paternalistic

Lights go down for emotional song- “Check”

Sermon- “The preacher spent a lot of time crafting that line;” “good word play;” “odd use of that passage.”

Closing song- “We should have been more careful picking this song, the message totally clashes with the sermon.”

I don’t generally get around to worshiping, because I cannot stop analyzing. To a certain degree this is my usual insecurity about emotionalism and my need to distance myself through irony. But I don’t think the solution to my problem is just to “let go” and put my heart into it. This isn’t simply a product of my schooling, this has been my whole life.

And I don’t think I am the only minister who can’t worship. These words come from a friend and recent graduate who is reflecting on his first year of church ministry:

water-in-desert-pic-754528My drive to be right about everything, my argumentative nature, and my arrogance are melting away, albeit slowly. They are being replaced with a desire to listen, a desire for peaceful interaction, and above all a desire to have a spiritual connection with God. This really is the first time in my life that I have wanted to be a spiritual person. I have always been so intellectually driven and intellectually connected with Christianity, the bible, and God. I have always wanted to preach, teach, just be heard in my opinions and rationales. Now, however, I mostly just want to sit down and be silent with God. People always talk about hearing the voice of God, and for my whole life I have thought that was the most stupid thing ever. Now I yearn to hear that voice.

odd man outI want to hear that voice too, and I don’t mean in personal disciplines: It’s not my prayer life I am worried about; I have a disciplined and fruitful prayer life; and it isn’t that I can’t be silent before God when I am by myself. My problem isn’t private. My issue is very much public. How do you hear God’s voice in the Church? Because my problem is with the people of God. I can’t sing, I can’t pray, I can’t hear the word of God, because I do not know how to worship with the people of God.

How do you remain connected to the people of God,  when you don’t know how to worship with the people of God?

 

Cultivating Prayer

I have spoken in previous posts about the way in which we use prayer or use “faith” to motivate or even manipulate God to doing our will. It seems to me that, after such negative posts, it might be appropriate to suggest what I think the purpose of prayer might actually be. What follows are some brief points from a conversation which took place among my monastic brotherhood recently.

First, though, a few more concise points on what I think may be misconceptions of prayer:

 

1. Prayer is not a technique- one cannot create or induce a spiritual or emotional state by performing prayer correctly, the attempt do so is to seek to manipulate God to provide you with an “experience.”

2. Prayer is not about “feeling”- to pray, I believe one has to trust that 30 minutes of wasted silence with God is of benefit regardless of what emotions of peace or fulfillment one brings out of that time. Prayer is not about stimulus and response. The basic evaluations of productivity or cost/benefit are not appropriate measures of one’s prayer life. God is often producing fruit that we don’t see until it is in retrospect. We may never see it. But our prayer lives should not be oriented around results and gratification.

I would contend that prayer is:

1. Making ourselves available to God-God may choose to use this availability to leave us in the desert with a sense of abandonment and isolation; or we may be led into a season of incredible fruitfulness and obvious growth. Whatever yh chooses to do with our effort, prayer is the trust that God will work if we make ourselves available to yh.

2. Moving from point one, it important to recognize that it is God who works in prayer-like a gardener, all we can do is prepare the soil and create the conditions for growth to take place. What God chooses to plant and nurture is yh’s prerogative. We may not like the fruit that God choose to produce in us: I may wish for a better harvest of certain fruits; but I am only in charge of making myself available and submissive. Prayer is God’s work.

3. Finally (for now) Prayer is dangerous-when we slow ourselves down enough to make our hearts and very selves available to the transformative work of God, we will not be able to walk away the same people. I do not believe that God would plant without pulling out the weeds. In silence, God brings to the surface the sin and brokenness which we can ignore when we keep ourselves distracted with noise and busyness. In silence, I see the ways in which I am complicit in an unreconciled creation; I am implicated in the breaking of relationship between God and humanity. I cannot expect to make myself vulnerable to God and not be changed; I must be willing to die to myself so that Christ can live in me. If I am not willing to do so, I should not pray.

 

 

 

The Powers that Be: Connectivity

The first post in the series Is The Powers that Be: Introduction

I almost wish that I did see angels and demons fighting openly, it would be easier for me to pick a side. The thought of open Spiritual Warfare is exciting and dangerous, a much preferred vision than that of being deceived. However, the truth is that I am deceived. For those who don’t know me personally, let me assure you that I take great pride in my ability to maintain control of my own faculties. However, I have forsaken the example of my Lord (his respect and attention for others) and given into the temptations of the Powers that be. Of late, I am becoming continually more aware of the extent to which I am enslaved to what is, I believe, one of the most dangerous and subtle of the Principalities and Powers in the world today: Technology.

I really love my iPod. I love my iPhone. I love apps, Facebook, Twitter, Stumbleupon, Netflix, Hulu, Youtube, and please do not even ask me about Wikipedia. I love them more than I love anyone around me, and this is evident in the fact that technology controls my attention in every relationship. It would be untrue to claim that I have been fully present to anyone in years. I can be in conversation, in class, in study, at work, I can even be in prayer, but if my phone makes the smallest of noises I will answer. It is not so much that I will always stop what I am doing, but my presence and attention are taken. When I am in solitude and silence I wish for connectivity. I often imagine that I hear my phone and I will remain uneasy until I check it. Whoever or whatever has signaled me has now stolen my attention and my engagement from whatever activity I was participating in.

When I am with family or friends we often all work on our laptops or tablets or phones, only half listening, half speaking. A favorite bonding activity for friends is watching TV together. It is best not to speak though, it makes it difficult to pay attention to the show. The people I am with are always being passed over for those who are not present.

My reasoning is generally sound:

“What if this text is really important? Surely they would be offended if I didn’t answer the phone? If I don’t look at it now I will forget later. I can multitask fine, texting and listening is not a problem. Social-Networking really helps me stay connected to those in my ministry.”

The Principalities and Powers have deceived me to the point that I am afraid to go out without my cell-phone. Isn’t it irresponsible for me to be disconnected from the grid? What if someone needed to contact me? Despite its lack of benefits on my track record, the phone remains, insuring that I will value “connectedness” and “utility” over intimacy and presence. If the Christ wants to call me he could email me, or he can text me, Facebook is ok too but I am otherwise a bit hard to reach.

The next post in the series is The Powers that Be: Expanded

Putting Descartes Before the Horse

In regards to our earlier discussion on silence:

We come from the long standing tradition of people who have been reasoned into our faith. Disregarding the paradox of seeking a logically impregnable faith, I find it necessary to reflect on the ways in which our meditations of first theology have shaped the worship of the current generation.

I am told that my generation is driven by experience, and I would be dishonest in saying that much of my own beliefs are not highly experiential in origin. Realizing that this seems to be true for people of the current generation, many worship services, I believe, are now being shaped to better adhere to said temperament. This is apparent in most church gatherings: the songs are preselected to match the message, and both the lighting and powerpoints follow accordingly to make our worship a well crafted event. I do not mean to imply that such planning makes worship false or that I disagree with this philosophy completely. As one who has helped plan many worship services, there is a desire to make each a meaningful and engaging experience for the participants. I think we do one another a disservice and would be unfaithful were we to decide to neglect the service of worship. However, who is better served by the way we are worshiping?

Perhaps one of the experiences that would most affect our worship is to be still and know who God is. Perhaps we just need to be reminded who is God. This is not simply for God’s edification, but also for our own instruction. As beings made in his image, the identity of the children is a contingency of the Father’s. We have been taught, whether directly or culturally, that we must determine God’s existence second to establishing our own, but this God-forsaking epistemology disrupts our ability to truly comprehend our own beingness. The teleological misunderstanding of “the self” reveals itself in so much of the brokenness we see, both in our world and our churches.

This is why silence and stillness are essential parts of our worship. The contemplative disciplines are where we truly begin to understand the identity and will of God. We can never truly experience the presence of God if we continue to allow sensation and cognition to take the place of revelation. God is praised in song, but he is revealed in silence. It is in solitude and contemplation that we will hear the truth: “YHWH ergo sum.” He is, therefore we are.

Screaming for Silence

I have discovered a new pet-peeve: instrumentally accompanied prayer. For the time being, I am staying with my parents for the Christmas Holidays, requiring me to attend their church for the duration of the break. Many things could be said about this experience: it being the first church to attend with my father where he is not the preacher, or it being the largest regular congregation that I have had the pleasure of worshiping with. However, my parent’s new church home has an instrumental service, which is new to me. The instruments are pleasant and I enjoy the qualities that they add to worship, but it seems that every time someone gets up to pray he or she has a lovely solo to accompany the conversation and I find this seriously distracting.

Besides the typical rudeness that this would communicate if the conversation were to take place between two physically present persons, I don’t appreciate feeling emotionally manipulated during a prayer. These are not, however, the main problem with this phenomena. Frankly, I have just encountered this scenario at an inopportune time. Over the past year I have been very fortunate to find a great quantity of my time available to be spent in isolation, and I have fallen in love with the silence. Solitude, silence, and contemplative prayer have awoken a means of worship that I had never previously experienced. This has not been as available in Fort Worth. My family is lovely, but living with others is not conducive to solitude and I have been hard pressed to find silence with a Wii addicted eight year old sister down the hall.

I would be lying to say that the above mentioned has kept me from keeping to myself. Throughout my time here I have been respectfully allowed to remain introverted and relatively alone, if one can be both alone and  licked by a dog in the same moment. I find, though, that the introverted time does not satisfy a desire, it leaves me craving more. The longing has increased to the point of my resenting attending this church with my family. I justify my feelings saying that

 ["it is not my community and that, other than attendance as an end in itself, I have no reason to attend if I cant worship..."]

and I have a hard time producing the counter argument, which is unusual for me. I long for an assembly that will be comfortable with itself in silence, where the worship is in the being and not in the doing. I long for a church where the ministry done is not initiated by and is often unknown to the ministers. A church that assembles with the purpose of recognizing what God has done the last week, and what is to be done the next. I suppose I should long to be less idealistic, but for now I can only hope to adjust to the need for constant noise and interaction.

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