Wisdom & Silence

By: The Rev. Brenda Sol

Proper 9 (C): Galatians 6:1-16; Psalm 30; Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

If you read this weeks's eBlast, you know that, instead of a homily this morning, I’m going to offer a series of reflections, along with some silence. In the next month or two, we’ll host  “Sharing Parties,” so that I can tell you more about my sabbatical and share some photos from my journeys.

Today, however, I’m inviting you into some of the experience of my sabbatical. I set the tone for my time away with a three-day silent retreat in the Big Sur area. The monastery where I stayed was so remote that, not only was there not any internet connection, there was no cell phone reception. I was instantly “unplugged”, and it was heavenly.

There were several other experiences that involved silence over the past nine weeks, and it all culminated in a pilgrimage I made with the Shalem Institute to Spain. We spent five days in Avila exploring the teachings of Teresa of Avila. Then, we were in Toledo for five days learning about St. John of the Cross.

As we enter into these reflections, I’m aware that many of you might think you’re not good at silence, or not good at praying. So, I want you to know that Teresa, herself—early on in her monastic life—didn’t pray for two whole years. She said this was partly because she didn't think she was worthy of approaching God, and partly because she thought she didn’t know how to pray.

 Fortunately, she came to understand that as God’s beloved, there is nothing God wants more than to have us come—just as we are—to be loved and supported. Both she and John, who was her student and employee, wrote and taught what was considered heresy in the 1500s: that God is not only always with us and around us, God is within us. We might not always be aware of God, and we might not always hear God responding to our prayers, but God is here.

As I mentioned in a previous sermon St. John once wrote, “Silence is God’s first language.” So in the times of silence that we’ll have, trust that God is here. Some of us might have memorized the line from Psalm 62 that says: “For God alone my soul waits in silence.”[1] But that sort of indicates it’s us waiting on God to show up. Instead, Teresa and John might point us to Psalm 95: “O that today you would listen to [God’s] voice!”[2]

Later in her life, Teresa suggested that prayer is simply sitting in silence and letting God love us.

So, here’s how this is going to work. After each of our three readings, I’ll offer a short reflection on what stands out for me in the passage, then give you two and a half minutes of silence to pray. You might choose to ponder what I noticed. You might re-read the passage to see what jumps out for you. You might use a silent mantra to focus your attention, such as breathing in the word “Holy”, on your inhale, and breathing out the word “Grace”, as you exhale. Breathing in “Holy”; breathing out “Grace”.

Or you can simply be present to God. There’s nothing to figure out, and there’s no wrong way to do this. Just hold it all loosely. If your attention drifts away, gently bring it back, breathing in “Holy”, breathing out “Grace”. At the end of each time of silence, I’ll say “Amen,” and we’ll continue with the canticle printed in your bulletin.

After Galatians:

What stands out for me about this passage is the sense of community, in not just our surrounding neighborhood, but on a global scale, and that we don’t do good things so we can feel good about what we’ve done. Rather, in our actions, we are mindful that our goal is to work for the good of all. So, we support each other through the challenging times and celebrate together in the good times.

Since we live in such a complex time, I’ve had lots of conversations, lately, about what we might do to make a meaningful impact in the world. St. Teresa would agree with this thinking. She told people that while our faith is to help us trust that God has got us—to not worry—that after prayer, we are then called to action. But, she also talked about knowing how to do that in everyday ways, in our everyday lives.

When we think of meaningful impact, we so often go way out there, imagining how we might overhaul unjust systems, and quickly become overwhelmed. Because you and I are each just one individual, what we can do, instead, is create meaningful impact by helping someone in our daily lives.

I just heard about a man who was wrongly convicted of murder, then spent decades in prison before getting his case overturned. While he was incarcerated, he studied law and assisted dozens of other men, who were also innocent. He said, “I can’t change the criminal legal system by myself, but it’s my duty to help others…one person at a time.”

[2.5 minutes of silence]

Amen.

After Luke:

There’s a saying in the evangelical world that distorts God’s role in our lives. The problem I see with the motto: “God, Family, Self,” is that it’s used a prioritization list, which starts out okay, because God should indeed be at the top of our list. But not in the way the motto is typically used. The idea that’s perpetuated is that our first priority should be to worship God—essentially so that God doesn’t get angry with us for not giving God enough attention.

I think a better way to illustrate the relationship between the three would be a venn diagram with God at the center—intersecting all that we do. Our spiritual practices…and worship is one of them…help us continually bring our focus back to God, so that we can benefit from God’s grace, mercy and love, because we’ll actually be noticing that God is supporting us…through it all.

So, as our reading from Galatians talks about work, and that we all have work to do, this passage points out that we need to be grounded in God’s peace to do the work. We are to do this in community, holding the rest of life loosely—not trying to fix everything and everyone—rather moving on to settings where we can be grounded and find peace.

A morning devotion I read recently reminded me that while we all have work to do, the work is not an end in itself. Rather our ultimate vocation is to deepen our connection to our eternal and loving God.

[2.5 minutes of silence]

Amen.

After the Psalm:

As always, the Psalmist expresses the extremes of our human condition, and the ways we both berate God and give God thanks. By expressing this for us, the Psalmist gives us permission to experience the complexities of our lives without worrying whether God can handle all of our feelings. St. John wrote about the Dark Night of the Soul and how not only can God handle what we might label “negative feelings”, but that if we let God in, there’s the potential of those challenging times to lead to new insights, wisdom or practice. As the psalm suggests, our “wailing” can be transformed—perhaps not overnight, but eventually—into “dancing”.

[2.5 minutes of silence]

Amen.

[1] Psalm 62:5, NRSVU

[2] Psalm 95:7, NRSVU