So many Christians are living scared.
They spend their days hopelessly and totally petrified; hiding and running from the imminent threat that’s pursuing them, always seemingly just a fearful second from being overtaken and destroyed.
They’re breathless and weary from the relentless chase; ready to collapse under the strain of it all.
But these people of faith aren’t afraid of the devil, or sex, or violence, or any secret or showing sin.
They aren’t worried about terrorists or thieves or Hell or gays or wars or liars or murderers.
So many Christians are scared to death of silence.
And they have good reason to be afraid.
Silence is merciless.
It strips you bare. It leaves your heart fully exposed to scrutiny. You find yourself naked in its presence.
There, without the protections of distraction; without stuff to do and conversations to have and activities to engage in and places to go, you simply have you and the truth about what you believe about God – and it’s often terrifying.
In our culture, speed and activity are no longer intrusive to us, as they were to the pilgrims who came before us. They now create a comforting white noise, helping numb our souls to inactivity. They push away the difficult, important questions that we don’t want to confront; the ones that inevitably come when we dare to sit in stillness and solitude.
This is true of our religious lives too. Church, Bible study groups, social gatherings, and even serving opportunities often become sanctified calendar-fillers that allow us to do the things of God, without having to contend with the annoying presence of God.
We’ll let our favorite pastor, or blogger, or author serve as translators of the Creator’s voice to us, rather than trusting that we can hear and decipher it firsthand.
And the rest of the time, most of us who call ourselves Christians would rather sedate ourselves with spiritual busy work than actually enter soberly into the costly, difficult, sometimes brutal task of being known, and of facing the real condition of our faith.
It wasn’t always this way.
People of our religious tradition used to welcome the silence. They sought it out with eagerness and expectancy. It formed the green pastures of holy ground that helped sustain and center them.
Jesus regularly went to the solitary places to pray too; to be quiet and listen for the promptings of God. For him, the silence was the sacred space where he could mute the explosive shouts of the crowd, and hear the steady, gentle voice of the Father.
So many of us want to say we follow Jesus, but the truth is, we’d all rather stop just short of following him into that frightening place.
How often do you allow silence to catch-up with you and have its way?
How many times during a day do you forsake the loud promises of the many, for the hushed invitation of the One?
How willing are you to put down the plans and the activity and the doing, and to step away from the seductive, crackling electricity of social media and packed schedule, so that you might actually hear God?
Me, I’m a recovering activity-junkie.
I’m learning to crave and love the still places; the sanctuary of quiet, where the only thing I have available to me, is the one thing I’m seeking.
It’s a place where God is the only one who has my ear.
There’s no competition; no speakers, pastors, authors, friends, supporters, or detractors to attend to, or argue with, or listen to, or cater to.
There’s no theology or dogma or doctrine or religious language to cut through.
And there are no diversions from the stark truth about my soul’s condition. It’s all out there in the open stillness.
As someone who writes often about the things of God in hopes that others will benefit from them, I’m grateful for those who find any kind of comfort or perspective or encouragement here. If you’re reading this right now, let me express my profound appreciation.
Then, let me challenge you to log out, shut down, unplug, and get away from the opinions and the words of others, regardless of whose they are.
Slow down long enough to submit to the stillness, because it’s the most important place for the soul that seeks. There, you will get answers that no other voice can give you.
Christian, don’t ever be afraid of the silence. Truth is at home there.
God is there too.
Be still and know.
