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Entries in stillness (2)

Pump Down the Jam

Back in the days when DJ’s were still on the radio and spun vinyl 45’s, I turned up the volume in my car—loud.

When one teenager tells another to turn the radio down, you know it’s loud. My best friend tried to get the point across: “Ray, if you can hear the static from the needle in the groove, it’s too loud.” These days, ear buds do the trick: I still get the volume I crave. When it comes to music I still believe the 60’s mantra, if it’s too loud you’re too old.

This was my attitude about following Jesus, too. Crank it up, Lord. Gimme all you got. Christianity was for in-your-face linebackers. Thumpin’ bass or heavy metal, there was no question about the mission. I loved power verses and no-questions-asked Holy Ghost direction. In short, I may have been born again, but I was a child of my times as well.

Every advertiser in America screams for our attention. TV commercials boost the volume; our cars have become half transportation, half nightclub—and we like it that way. We wake up to music and go to sleep with Jimmy Fallon and The Roots. If something’s important, we roll it out with flash and dazzle. Every announcement is accompanied by shouting. It’s the way of our world.

There is, however, another world, where the greatest news is whispered. The Kingdom of God speaks the language of the still small voice. Deep joy is in the quiet. The heavens may declare the glory of God, but they never make a sound. As his Kingdom is worked into me, I discover the true music is in the rests, not the downbeat.

There was a time when the silence meant God wasn’t speaking. Now, in the quiet, he’s all I hear. Elijah was the prophet of shock and awe, but perhaps it was a way to ignore his own depression. Eventually his fears drove him into seclusion. There he discovered the presence of God not in fire, nor earthquake, nor the whirling of the wind. He heard the whisper of God. It strengthened him and nudged him forward.

Stillness and peace are signs of the Spirit’s presence. For every Pentecost there are fifty days in the prayer closet. The prayer closet is not meant to be a place to hide from the world, but a place where we hide the world from ourselves. An anchorman once asked Mother Teresa what she said during prayer. She answered, “I listen.” The interviewer followed-up, “Well then, what does God say?” Mother Teresa smiled. “He listens.”

It turns out the Father is a pretty good listener. “You know me when I sit and when I rise,” said David. “You perceive my thoughts from afar.” Imagine the mutual quiet. Imagine the joy unspeakable.

My friend Heather Kraus observed, “Jesus’ promise of ‘I will give you rest’ is not the same as ‘I will give you answers.” I suspect some of his best answers do not come with words. My friend Adam Russell says, "Any fool can hear it when God shouts, only the lover can hear him whisper."

Waiting on God is not passive, it’s the mark of an active soul alive to the ways of God. Isaiah tried to slow people down in his day:

In repentance and rest you will be saved,
In quietness and trust is your strength
.

But his gentleness was lost on a noisy people:

But you were not willing,
And you said, “No, for we will flee on horses,”
Therefore you shall flee!
“And we will ride on swift horses,”
(Isaiah 30:15-16)

In Isaiah’s day the movers and shakers took the bull by the horns until the bull ran them over. Even vigorous young men stumble and fall. Strength is overrated. Stillness is missed altogether. But those who power down, log out, and disconnect will renew their strength.

Stillness

I used to think the silence meant God wasn’t speaking. Now, in the silence, he’s all I hear.
 
As a young man I would look to the stars, overwhelmed by the beauty of the night sky. I knew from Psalm 19 that the heavens declared the glory of God. I could see his greatness, but could not hear his voice. Even in their majesty I would wonder why God was so silent. My prayers, especially at night, were filled with requests and concerns. I would list my needs one by one, unaware that my greatest need was stillness.
 
Of the many needs of North American believers, silence is among the greatest. Silence is the page on which God writes his word. Our noisy world scribbles on the page continually, overlaying sound and word on top of word and sound until the page becomes black. We cannot read what God has written unless the page is clean.
 
The pathway of modern life has been hardened, trampled by words. Back in the day you had to visit Times Square; now Times Square visits you. The sower sows the seed but it falls on the path and is carried away by SportsCenter, YouTube, NPR, FoxNews, and our ubiquitous earbuds. Quiet is an aberration. When Maxwell Smart uses the Cone of Silence, the point is that everyone simply has to shout louder. Drop any comedian into a monastery and he’ll have the monks doing hip-hop before it’s over. Even our Bibles are cluttered with sidebars and graphics, pictures and celebrity interpretations. 
 
But what if God is in the silence? He wasn’t in the whirlwind or earthquake for Elijah. The “still, small voice” is still a whisper. Perhaps the Father has his reasons for not raising is voice. I suspect it’s for our good that we find him in the secret place, well away from Times Square. This week’s meditation is actually quite, well, meditative: why not create a secret place each day and give him just three minutes of blank slate? The Father doesn’t need a podcast to reach our hearts. We will find his presence in the silence, and it will be enough.