Entering into silence can spiritually form us

There's only a few sermons that I've heard that I remember. As I write that I want to make sure you understand what I'm not saying, I'm not saying that sermons are unimportant. I think they are very important. The sermons I remember are likely not sermons that someone else remembers. They are moments in time that God uses in the lives of people.

There was one sermon in particular that my friend, Doug, gave a number of years ago. He was talking about how noisy the world is and how quiet God's voice can be. All during the message he had an iPod playing very quietly and then at the end he had us all get quiet and all of a sudden you could hear the music.

This shook me.

I am a noisy person.

When I enter a space I do so loudly. In social settings you know where I'm at all times. It's not that I'm trying to be the center of attention, I'm just loud. My voice carries and so does my laugh.

It is not just my outward presence that is loud. My interior life is loud too. As I grew up I always had a TV on or music playing. When I sat down to do homework the TV had to be running. When I was in seminary I wrote and researched and studied in busy coffee shops, intentionally.

For most of my life I have not liked the quiet. When things get quiet my thoughts get loud. I am not necessarily a big fan of those thoughts all the time. It can be disconcerting for me to allow my thoughts to run rampant.

Silence is scary.

This past summer I took two nights to just get away for a silent retreat. I shut down my phone. I didn't listen to music (well, that's a whole story in and of itself). I did allow myself to listen to a baseball game while I ate dinner.

I was alone in a cabin.

I went hiking alone in the silence and solitude of nature.

Leading up to these two nights away I was in a state of high anxiety because I was worried about being silent and alone for those 48 hours. I had never been a lone, truly alone, for that length of time.

Silence is scary.

I wish I could say that I heard the audible voice of the divine during my retreat. I did not. I also wish I could say that there was some sort of profound awakening that I experienced. But, I did not.

What did happen is that I faced my fear of silence.

It took almost a solid 24 hours for my mind quiet down. To really and truly be able to focus my attention on something other than my own thoughts. When that happened it was the most remarkable thing.

My mind could finally focus.

I was reading in the book of Jeremiah and some other commentaries that I brought along with me. I devoured the text.

Even more interesting was during my time hiking I was meditating on the Lord's prayer a stanza at a time. As I did, in that silence, those lines came to life for me. I do not really know how to explain it, but it was like I had never experienced them before.

Ever since then, something has happened within me. I have begun to delight in silence.

In the mornings I awake around 6 am-ish and drink coffee in the quiet dark house. It's become my favorite part of the day. I used to have a compulsion to turn on SportsCenter or something else. But now, my day begins with about 90 minutes to 2 hours of almost total silence.

Silence isn't scary anymore.

Silence has become a gift.

It is in the silence where I am learning to meet God.

I suppose there's a reason that silence has been a significant part of spiritual formation for many in the Christian tradition. I need silence now like I need water to drink or air to breathe. I can tell when I haven't had enough silence. My mind runs and spins and sleep is hard to come by.

It is in the silence where freedom from the weight of the world is offered and received.

When was the last time you were silent? What's stopping you? What do you think might happen if you entered into silence?

— Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

If you aren't receiving these posts in your inbox please subscribe right here:

Psalm 34:1-10, The Message

“Look at him; give him your warmest smile. Never hide your feelings from him. When I was desperate, I called out, and GOD got me out of a tight spot.”

When I'm going through something heavy or hard I often think, “Why am I feeling this way? Compared to what so many others are going through this is nothing.”

Often, when I feel like this, I will not pray because I don't want to burden God or in some sense I think that these feelings are not worthy to be brought to God.

One of the first things that I learned in my young Christian life was that feelings don't matter. They are nothing more than the caboose of a train that is driven by the fact of God's word and faith. This left me in a state where I was constantly trying to hide, stuff, or in so many other ways ignore my feelings.

That was so misguided. The idea that our feelings are nothing and they don't matter to God is such an unhelpful and unbiblical idea. This might be one of the most destructive things that I have had to undo as I have matured in my journey of faith.

I love this line, “Never hide your feelings from him.” God cares about our feelings. God can handle all our emotions, big and small.

As I ponder these verses it strikes me that the psalmist probably saw or experienced God's hand getting him out of a tight spot because he had brought all his feelings to God. By not hiding, the psalmist was open to seeing how God was at work in the world.

The question I am going to be wrestling with today is this, “Am I hiding my feelings or my internal life from God?”

— Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

If you aren't receiving these posts in your inbox please subscribe right here:

James 2:14-18

“Isn’t it obvious that God-talk without God-acts is outrageous nonsense?”

I have a friend whose favorite saying is, “acta non verba,” this translates to “actions not words.” He's one of those people who will do anything for you. His actions clearly demonstrate that the words he uses have meaning.

Many of us are good talkers.

We know the right things to say. But what about our actions? How often do you promise to do something but then don't follow through?

I want to say that never happens to me, but it does. It probably occurs more often than I'd like to admit. Oh sure, I have a good “reason,” but the reality is that it's just an excuse.

It is really hard for me to admit that.

There's a really helpful book about the rise of the church in the Roman Empire entitled, The Patient Ferment of the Early Church by Alan Kreider. In it he writes about how the verb, “look,” was central to the practice of the early church. Kreider argues, convincingly I think, that we have lost this idea of a new way of living in the world.

Perhaps, we could sum up much of the modern church as a lot of God-talk and not much God-acts.

Perhaps, I could sum up much of my own life this way.

— Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

If you aren't receiving these posts in your inbox please subscribe right here:

Psalm 119:41-48

“Let your love, God, shape my life with salvation, exactly as you promised...”

Last night we were talking about Paul's call to go to Jerusalem and how he understood his obedience to that call would result in seeing God work. One of the things that came out of conversation was this desire that we would have as clear a call as Paul did. How nice would it be to really know what our calling is?

The fact of the matter is that we do know what our calling is.

It's clear.

Our calling is to love our neighbor as our self.

At the most fundamental of levels this is our calling.

Then this morning I read this little passage with this opening line, “Let your love, God, shape my life with salvation, exactly as you promised...”

Oh what a prayer!

I'm wrestling this morning with this simple and profound thought, “How does my life look differently if God's love has shaped it?”

— Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

If you aren't receiving these posts in your inbox please subscribe right here:

What happens when Paul shows up in Jerusalem?

John 5:39-47

“You have your heads in your Bibles constantly because you think you’ll find eternal life there. But you miss the forest for the trees. These Scriptures are all about me! And here I am, standing right before you, and you aren’t willing to receive from me the life you say you want.”

As I continue to read and study the Bible I am more convinced than ever that much of what Jesus said to the religious leaders of his day are the things that I need to hear.

John 5:39-40 is case in point.

I study the Bible, religiously (teehee). It is, quite literally, part of my job description. But, am I missing the forest for the trees? Am I seeing the reality that everything is about Jesus?

More than that, am I willing to receive from Jesus the life I say I want?

Ouch.

That is a punch in the gut.

That hits a bit too close to home.

The life I say I want is one of love, grace, mercy, and joy. It's one that is marked by the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5. It is one where the burdens of life are eased by being deeply connected to Christ.

Do I really want that?

Because when I'm real honest about myself it sure doesn't seem to be true. I am given over to easy anger, rage, and frustration. Stress and snark are hand in hand.

Jesus is in a way standing right here in front of me. Will I receive the life he is offering or will I continue to just hold on as tightly as I can to the life that I say I don't want?

The question I'm wrestling with today is, “Am I willing to receive from Jesus the life I say I want?”

— Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

If you aren't receiving these posts in your inbox please subscribe right here:

Psalm 90:1-6

“Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations.”

This beautiful line is from Psalm 90:1. I grabbed my attention and I keep thinking about it. This concept of God being our dwelling place.

I too often think about God as someone far off or disconnected. Yet, here the Psalmist calls me to consider the reality that it is in God where we will dwell.

The dwelling place in the ancient world was important because it provided protection and security. In effect, the Psalmist is saying, “Lord, you have been our protection and security throughout all generations.

In my world, security and protection is something that I have to earn. It's not something that I consciously trust God to provide. Oh sure, the words will come out. But, at the end of the day I often think that security and protection is the result of my own effort.

I wonder if some of the rampant fear that is present in our world is the result of people no longer believing that God protects and secures? We need weapons and power and money to feel protected and secure these days.

But do we?

What if we set our minds and hearts on the God who is our dwelling place and has been throughout all generations?

The question I will be pondering tonight as I lay in bed is, “Do I trust that God will protect and provide for me?”

— Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

If you aren't receiving these posts in your inbox please subscribe right here:

Prayer is something so difficult for me to get my mind around. As I think about praying it raises so many, many questions.

If God is sovereign why pray? Why doesn't God answer my prayers? Why don't I hear God when I pray? What value is there to praying? Why did that person get healed and that one didn't? Why did that prayer have “results” and that one didn't? Does prayer do anything?

And so many, many more.

I often think of prayer in the context of utility. Quite simply, “does it work?”

—

As far as I can tell Jesus' closest followers only asked to be taught one thing, how to pray.

How did Jesus respond?

“He said to them, “When you pray, say: “‘Father, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread. Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sins against us. And lead us not into temptation.’” (Luke 11:2-4)

Short. Focused. To the point.

Elsewhere talking about prayer Jesus said,

“And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” (Matthew 6:5-8)

What are we to make of these things?

—

Throughout the history of religious people prayer has always played a significant role. I remember in seminary reading about the desert fathers and mothers and how prayer was central. Or learning about the monastic movement and the important role of prayer for these people.

Every week I pray a “pastoral prayer” and a prayer of invocation and a prayer over the offering. I pray before I preach and after I preach. I pray before meals. I pray before I write. I pray before I spend time in the Scriptures. I prayer before I meet with people. I pray during my devotional times.

As I think about it, I pray quite a bit.

Yet, I wouldn't consider myself a pray-er.

—

My friend John, he was a pray-er. After he died his wife passed out index cards that he kept on hand that tracked what he was praying for for his friends.

Prayer was central to his spiritual life.

I know of many people for whom prayer is significant to their lives and spirituality.

My mentor, Bob, is a pray-er. He prays like his life depends on it. There is a qualitative difference between his prayer and my prayer.

I think I often pray as someone who has to pray as opposed to wanting to pray. I think this is because I can't quite figure out prayer. It doesn't fit my intellectual boxes.

Perhaps it's similar from the opening lines of Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller when he wrote, “I never liked jazz music because jazz music doesn't resolve.”

—

He goes on to write, “But I was outside the Bagdad Theater in Portland one night when I saw a man playing the saxophone. I stood there for fifteen minutes, and he never opened his eyes.

After that I liked jazz music.

Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself. It is as if they are showing you the way.”

When I see people like Bob or John pray, I want to love prayer the way they do. These guys have and do show me the way.

Yet, I struggle.

—

I have found lately that simply praying the prayer that Jesus taught his disciples has helped me. Often I will find myself meditating on the words. Or the words will just come into my mind as I drive or walk.

When this happens I feel something in me.

I feel a connection to the divine. It's faint. But it's there.

I am coming to grips with an idea that I first heard about in the film Shadowlands. It's a film about C.S. Lewis and his relationship with his wife, Joy. Near the end of the film there is this line, “I pray because I can’t help myself. I pray because I’m helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time – waking and sleeping. It doesn’t change God- it changes me.”

The idea that I'm coming to grips with is this: I'm helpless.

That's not easy for me.

I think of myself as strong. I think of myself as someone who rarely needs anything. Yet, if I am honest, truly honest, I am helpless.

—

“Prayer doesn't change God—it changes me.”

As I continue to learn to pray, I am learning that this ethereal, surreal, intangible practice of seeking to be in the presence of the divine changes me.

It's not a utilitarian practice. It's something deeper than that. It's experiential.

I long to be able to speak that line from the film and mean it. I long to pray because the need flows out of me all the time – waking and sleeping.

—

Perhaps, as I grow in my desperation to desire to pray I will someday learn to pray.

— Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

If you aren't receiving these posts in your inbox please subscribe right here:

Jeremiah 3

“I'm committed in love to you.”

I'm really grateful that my kids and I have never had a falling out. I can't really imagine the pain that would cause. Being estranged from my children is probably my greatest fear. I don't even want to think about it.

As a pastor, I have spent a lot of time talking through things with people who are estranged from their children or parents. The heartache of those broken relationships is indescribable. It is really trendy these days to talk about how your parents and sibilings are people you don't need in your life, yet nobody really means it. When our relationships with parent, children, or siblings are broken it is devastating. Some times those relationships need to be broken because of abuse, and while healthy, it is no less devastating.

That's the thing.

When it comes to these relationships, that are the closest to us and most intimate, the breaking of them, even when it is necessary, leaves a wound that is not easily healed.

—

As I read through Jeremiah 3 this morning it struck me that the imagery that is used is one of a Father and children who have been estranged. There is a clear desire on both of their parts to reunite. Yet, the wound is so severe that there seems to be little hope.

This line, “I'm committed in love to you,” is a beacon of hope in an otherwise painful and horrific passage of Scripture.

There is no desire on God's part to punish. The desire is for restoration. The desire is for healing.

Why?

Because God is committed in love.

There's a section in verse 19 where God talks about how God has planned what God would say if the people came back. It demonstrates this desire for re-connection.

If my children and I were estranged, I think that I would feel exactly the same way.

—

The question I'm wrestling with today is this, “How does it make me feel to know that God is committed in love to me?”

— Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

If you aren't receiving these posts in your inbox please subscribe right here:

Jeremiah 2:29-37

“Day after day after day they never give me a thought.”

Typically when our family starts out on a road trip we say a prayer. We pray that God would get us to where we are going safely. We genuinely pray. We are earnest. There is a desire on our part to entrust the drive to God and we want to arrive safely.

As far as I can tell God has answered every one of these prayers by getting us to and fro safely.

I can only think of twice when we thanked God for getting us there safely. Both times were when we experienced really bad weather. The times that the trips were uneventful, I don't think we acknowledged God's hand at all.

—

When we are going through difficult seasons we often wonder, “where is God?” One of the writers of the psalms cries out to God asking God to “wake up!” When things are going bad we think about God all the time.

It's odd, when things are going pretty well we don't think about God much at all.

—

In Jeremiah 2:29-37 God calls out the people for not ever giving God a thought.

I find that strange because the people were practicing Temple worship. They were making sacrifices and celebrating the feasts. They were hearing the scrolls read. God-talk was everywhere and all the time.

Yet, God says, that they never thought about God.

As a pastor I use a lot of God-talk, all the time. I read the Scriptures. I pray the prayers. I preach the sermons.

But do I think about God?

Perhaps what God is saying here is not some sort of intellectual exercise regarding God but is talking about the way that I think about those people in my life whom I love.

I think about my wife and kids a lot. I wonder what they're doing right now? Are they having fun? What kinds of conversations are they having? I am *intrigued by the lives of those I love.

The question I'm wrestling with today is, “Am I intrigued by the life of God?”

— Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

If you aren't receiving these posts in your inbox please subscribe right here:

Jeremiah 2:20-28

“How do you account for what is written in the desert dust...”

I had a dentist appointment yesterday. I despise going to the dentist. Every time they take my blood pressure and every time it's just above normal. They always ask if that's normal. My response, “only when I'm here.”

As a child my experience with the dentist was not very good. I suppose that's true of just about every Gen X kid. Our dentists were more akin to the dentist played by Steve Martin in Little Shop of Horrors than they were some kind person. So, I'm pretty sure that I have some deep-seated embodied dentist trauma that shows itself in my blood pressure at that god-forsaken place.

Whenever you go to the dentist they ask, “Are your teeth bothering you? Are you brushing? Are you flossing?”

I answer honestly, “No, they are fine. Yes I brush. I try to floss regularly but it's a habit I haven't developed yet.”

This time the dentist said, “Well, at least you're honest. You'd be surprised how many people try to lie about it.”

There's no point in lying about flossing. You can't hide whether or not you're doing it. The evidence is clear as the teeth in your mouth.

—

It strikes me this morning that the same is true in our relationship with God. This passage from Jeremiah is a hard read. The people of God are being chastised for following after the fertility deities of other nations. The language is, let's say, discomforting, at best.

Yet, there's this line, “How do you account for what is written in the desert dust...”

The people tried to lie about their pursuit of these foreign Gods but God says that there's no point because the evidence is written in the dust. Their tracks to and fro are obvious.

—

Our lives demonstrate what we are most focused on. We can hide or fake for a time but soon enough the truth will come out. Eventually everyone will see our tracks in the desert dust.

I'm wrestling with this question today, “What tracks am I leaving in the desert dust?”

— Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

If you aren't receiving these posts in your inbox please subscribe right here:

Jeremiah 2:4-19

“But my people have traded my Glory for empty god-dreams and silly god-schemes.”

It was the late nineties and I was working hard at raising support to join the staff of a campus ministry. This particular man that I was connecting with took me to a gathering of people from his church to introduce me to them. As we were driving he was explaining to me that the day of small churches was over. He said that little churches would soon be swallowed up by the biggest churches in the area because the large churches had power and resources that small churches could only dream about.

It's more than twenty years later and it turns out that his prediction was wrong.

For a while, I thought that he was perhaps correct. But, then the mega-church paradigm began to implode. Scandal after scandal. Pastor after pastor has fallen.

Small churches are not immune from this either.

As I read about colleagues falling and ministries breaking down it appears to me that there is a common thread. Jeremiah might call it “empty god-dreams and silly god-schemes.”

The American church has entangled itself with power and consumerism. In so doing it has sold its soul, in a sense, to a modern day Baal.

As a pastor there is a constant and never ending pull towards bigger and better. I feel it in my soul. It's an illness.

But then I read about what has happened in the past when the people of God have sold their souls for empty god-dreams and silly god-schemes and I am reminded that I don't need to trust anything else. I can rest in the goodness of God. As Paul says in his farewell to the Ephesian Elders God is incredibly and extravagantly generous.

The question I will be meditating on today is this, “Will I scheme for success or will I rest in God's grace?”

— Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

If you aren't receiving these posts in your inbox please subscribe right here:

We explore what happens when you follow your calling.

Jeremiah 2:1-3

“I remember your youthful loyalty, our love as newlyweds.”

We road trip pretty much everywhere. Mostly because we like having our car available to us wherever it is we go. But, also because we are pretty cheap and renting a car is ridiculously expensive.

There is a pattern to our long road trips. We begin with great enthusiasm. There are abundant snacks, everyone is fresh, and everyone is excited to get to where we are going. About two hours in it gets quiet. Then at about four hours the grumbling begins from the driver's seat. Then legs start getting stiff. The snacks don't sound good. Everyone is bored. Everyone is beginning to think, “Flying would have been better.”

But, then we get to the destination!

When we arrive the joy is palpable! Not only to get out of the car but the hope for fun and relaxation.

I think that the spiritual journey is similar. When we get started in our spiritual lives there is joy and exuberance. It's almost like being a newlywed.

But, like any journey it gets long and difficult.

The fun wears out. It's not exciting any longer. It's just a long slog. There's no end in sight.

What do we do? How do we respond? Will we stick to God?

The question that I'm going to be pondering today, “What do I need to do to continually find refreshment in my spiritual journey?”

— Discuss...

—

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found this helpful, insightful, interesting, or even just kind of average, would you please share it with your social feed?

If you aren't receiving these posts in your inbox please subscribe right here: