Retreats and Silence go hand-in-hand.

Retreats create the space for Spiritual Growth, and SILENCE is the language of Retreat. I know that seems odd; silence as language, but silence is the language of God.

Regular periods of silence play a significant role in Spiritual Growth. The type of silence I am speaking about is not the mere muting of the noise around us. No, it is an inner condition of our very beings; stillness, quiet, calm. There are also elements of desire and anticipation in this type of silence.

God has promised to be found by those who seek Him, but once we’ve found Him, often we begin to fill the space between us with our desires and demands. To hear God, we must listen for the “sound of a gentle breeze.”

Can one move long the journey in faith without silence? I suppose, but if you want to GROW spiritually, you must submit yourself to silence.

As an extrovert, silence has not come easy to me. I wrote about my initial experience with silence, in D is for DISCERNEMENT. But, once I tasted the fullness of emptying myself in order to be attentive to God, I could not go back to the way things were. In this silence, my Spiritual Growth expanded in ways I never could have anticipated.

After my husband died, I submitted myself to a ten-day retreat of silence and solitude. At the Siena Prayer Center I met with a Spiritual Director for 1 hour each day, and we discussed what God was revealing to me. It would have been very easy to stay home, and keep busy with all the things that I needed to take care of in the wake of this tragedy. But the time alone with God was so very rich and full of the comfort and clarity I needed at that critical time.

I know not everyone has the luxury of retreating for ten days, but you must begin – somehow, somewhere. A suggested mode for incorporating silence into your journey of faith is:

1 hour per week, 1 day per month, and 1 week per year.

This silence business is nothing new, and there are tools to help you enter this silence. Drop me an email if you’re interested in learning about them.

A word for Introverts: the silence that is needed here is not your regular experience of inner quiet. You must be attentive to something outside yourself. You must go deeper, or go sideways. The external quiet may come easy to you, but there must exist in it, longing and anticipation.

A word for Extroverts: at the onset, silence may be difficult for you, but you must push through what feels like loneliness. Do not be afraid. Create the space, and be still. God will speak to you, you are not alone.

Regardless of your temperament, observing silence does get easier with practice. And I can PROMISE, you will never regret seeking God in silence.

In Spiritual Growth, Q is for Quotidian Mysteries

quo·tid·i·an, adjective 

     1. of or occurring every day; daily.
    2. ordinary or everyday, especially when mundane.

mys·ter·ies, plural noun

     1.  the condition or quality of being secret, strange, or difficult to explain.
     2.  a religious belief based on divine revelation, especially one regarded as beyond human understanding.

I love these two concepts together; ordinary and secret. And the idea of being altogether too “difficult to explain.”

This issue came up in a spiritual direction session just this week. I was asked, “As Christians, shouldn’t we stand out, do something important, be remarkable? Most of my days, are filled with the ordinary and mundane tasks that everyone fulfills. But I can’t leave my job and my family to serve those in need.”

I admit it, I’ve felt this way too. I remember the first hint. I had just left the corporate world, to begin a life as a stay-at-home mother. I loved what I was doing, but it was hard, physically and emotionally. I found great support in a women’s Bible study at a local church.

In this Bible study, I learned about the exciting events of the early church; miracles, shipwrecks, foreign cultures. But I was bound to the daily grind of diapers, bottles, and temper tantrums. I felt that my gifts were meant for more than managing the bodily functions of two active boys.

I recall a specific moment, rocking my colicky son, gazing longingly out the window, I thought, “Surely God, I’m meant for more that this?” And in that moment, God gave me no such assurance.

“Actually Lisa, you are meant for exactly this, at this time. This IS your mission field.”

Not what I was hoping to hear, but an idea that has been a significant motivation for how I do, what I do.

In monastic communities, there is a person selected to fill the role of “Cellarer.” The cellarer is in charge of the storeroom (cellarium), and is called to a wide range of responsibilities, including the distribution of goods, and the care of kitchen vessels and other ordinary items. Although having a rather boring role to fulfill, the cellarer has always been highly esteemed in monastic communities. In the Rule of St. Benedict, the cellarer is charged to “look upon all the vessels and good of the monastery as though they were the consecrated vessels of the altar.”

I like this idea, even the most ordinary objects of the monastery are to be treated in the same fashion as the sacred altar objects. This is something I can imitate. Every diaper changed, every dish washed, every memo sent, or spreadsheet created … every boring, mundane act, can be performed as a sacred act of worship.

Most of us are not called to a life in a far away, exotic place. Most of us are called right where we are, in the middle of the mundane, everyday life we’re leading. And like the Benedictine cellarer, we can enter the mystery of the Quotidian, and see the redemption of all things, even our daily tasks.

In our efforts to Grow Spiritually, it is foundational that we understand who God really is.

A tool I have used in teaching about God is he THREE famous “omni” statements; Omniscience, Omnipresence, and Omnipotence. I’m sure you’ve heard of these:

• Omniscience – that part of God that is all-knowing. A comfort during time of or own uncertainty.
• Omnipresence – that part of God that is everywhere, at all times.  A comfort when we feel like God might be busy, somewhere else, with more important things than our situation, and finally,
• Omnipotence – that part of God that is all powerful! A comfort when life is overwhelming, and we feel like we have no control.

It was just this week that I learned a new Omni-attribute about God, Omnibenevolence. Doing a little research, I find a big, duh.

Omnibenevolence; from Latin omni meaning “all”, bene meaning “good”, and volent meaning “willing”

A new word to me, but certainly not a new concept. God is the source of all good things, but our ideas about “goodness” might vary from His.

As a Spiritual Director, I have found that this issue is the source of a lot of contention for a lot of us, as we attempt to understand God.

We’ve all asked, “If God is the source of all goodness, why does He allow, ______________?”  fill in the blank with your concern.

Spiritual Growth is all about the willingness to wrestle with these the contradictions. Contradictions between what we know about God and what we see around us. God’s shoulders are broad enough to take on your biggest questions. If you were to fill in the blank above, what would you say? Leave me a comment below!

It took me some time to actually sit down and read Merton. Honestly, I was intimidated by his reputation. I thought he might be too advance for me, so I began by trying to take in some of his quotes. Here’s a few of my favorites:

He wrote a lot on love:

“Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. That is not our business and, in fact, it is nobody’s business. What we are asked to do is to love, and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbors worthy.” 

He wrote a lot on silence and solitude:

“The world of men has forgotten the joys of silence, the peace of solitude which is necessary, to some extent, for the fullness of human living.” 

And he also wrote a lot on suffering:

“The more you try to avoid suffering, the more you suffer, because smaller and more insignificant things begin to torture you, in proportion to your fear of being hurt. The one who does most to avoid suffering is, in the end, the one who suffers most.” 

Years ago, I was invited to a retreat at the Monastery of the Holy Spirit, in Conyers, GA. They had a beautiful exhibit all about the history of the monastery. I was surprised to find Brother Louis (Merton’s monk name) pictured among the monks who built the monastery. It was fascinating to see him, just one of the community, working to lay brick, or cut wood. It peaked my curiosity, and I began researching his life.

I noticed some time ago, it is difficult for me to learn from any theologian unless I experience them in the context of their life. Their story teaches me as much as their theology. Merton’s life story was no different. I found him to be a real person, with a real life. Complete with struggles, failures, and small triumphs, just like myself.

Since then I have read Merton’s work with a fresh perspective. I have found his most profound writing in a collection of his Journals, “Entering the Silence: Becoming A Monk and Writer,” edited by Jonathan Montaldo.

These personal reflections touch quiet places within me, and I find myself no longer in the presence of a man’s whose reputation intimidates me. No, I find myself in the presence of fellow traveler, on the same path to God as myself. He, obviously, is bit further on the road than me.

Tomorrow, N is for NOUWEN
(who was also influenced by the writings of Thomas Merton)

It wasn’t until I began to understand God’s kindness towards me, that I began to extend that kindness to myself.

I found a quote from C.S. Lewis, that I customarily transferred into the opening page of each new journal I began – I did this for years, until the quote stuck fast in my heart,

The hardness of God is kinder than the softness of men.  – C.S. Lewis, “Surprised by Joy.”

I grew up viewing God as continually disappointed with my lack of perfection. Something, I’m sure carried over from my childhood. Born in the late 50s, I was raised in the post WWII era, where everything in life, was tied – somehow – to my ability to live in response to the wonderfulness of my culture. A culture that had been protected by great, hardworking people. Many of them, gave their lives to protect me from the tyranny of Communism. I owed them my best.

Born with a temperamental inclination towards rule following, I mostly did a good job of being perfect, at least in my parents’ view. I was able to hold up the façade for some time.

Then the first big failure in college – then a series of choices, that compounded the failure – then the oppression of hiding my lack of perfection. And so, the ball of self-judgment and disappointment began to roll. It was easier to hide from God (and my parents) than admit my imperfection.

Then a season of desperation, and I returned to God in humility. In my weakness, I found Him to be a loving, forgiving God. A God that gently smiled when I explained the events that took me down the road, away from His light. He never beat me up, and has kindly guided me along my way.

Why are we so hard on ourselves, when God isn’t? Why do we insist on pursuing the image of who we think we’re supposed to be? I think the problem is that there’s still a little bit of the Garden of Eden in us. I think the problem is perfectionism.

When you think of it, perfection is in our DNA. We were created perfect, and designed to live in a perfect place, experiencing a perfect relationship with our Creator. Deep inside we KNOW perfection is the goal. But here’s the truth, we’re all on a journey to that GOAL. In theology, it’s called the Process of Sanctification. And here’s the kicker, God knows. He gets it.

At this writing, we’re right in the middle of Holy Week. The events of Christ’s betrayal, torture, and death, are upon us. As we walk through the ancient ritual of remembering what was done on our behalf, I believe we are required to show ourselves kindness. If God thought we were worth Christ’s great sacrifice, shouldn’t we live people who believe it too?

This week, ease up on the pressure, be kind to yourself, and rest in God’s love.