Many Western Christians have an idea of what to do on Good Friday and Easter. On Good Friday we call to mind our sins, the last words of Jesus on the cross, the shock and despair his followers experienced… and we try to imagine his suffering, entering into that as best as we are able.
And then Easter is the party of all parties, when we declare the defeat of death: “Jesus Christ is no longer dead!”
Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
But what about Saturday? The disciples didn’t have an “Easter” to look forward to. Jesus was done for, as far as they knew. He was really dead. When he did appear to the apostles, they were terrified and thought they were looking at a ghost. They weren’t even hopeful for resurrection–it hadn’t crossed their mind as an option.
So what some Orthodox call “Bright Saturday” was anything but bright for Jesus’ first followers. It was horrible. Awful Saturday, they thought they would have to call it for years to come. They felt as empty as the tomb was about to be. It was a Sabbath day, too, so they didn’t have any work to distract them. They were quiet. Or maybe they wailed loudly.
Maybe the second day–Saturday, and he was still gone!–was even more difficult for the disciples than Friday.
There’s a liminal quality to Saturday in Holy Week: it’s an often unnoticed, unmarked day that is situated between death (Good Friday) and life (Resurrection Sunday). How should I feel? Sad? Penitential? Happy? Pre-happy? Expectant? However I want? All or none of the above?
Many Episcopal churches have a full Easter Vigil service on Saturday night, but just this simple offering for a Holy Saturday liturgy. We “await with him” and “rise with him” in that service’s Collect. This calls to mind Psalm 30:5, which says, “Weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” Our Holy/Bright/Liminal Saturday is a short day, since we know of Resurrection Sunday’s shouts of acclamation and loud Alleluias.
But Saturday for the disciples was not liminal. It was not thought of as perched between death and life. That day and those men and women felt firmly ensconced in the grips of death. There was no “other side” to look forward to, as far as they knew–at least not until the end of time. The closing anthem in the short Book of Common Prayer liturgy above begins, “In the midst of life we are in death….”
“We are in death.” Death Saturday. Awful Saturday.
Jesus’ followers had no clue what–or Who–was just around the corner….
The practice of solitude suffers from some misconceptions.
An old misconception of the habit, which tempts our belief from time to time, is that solitude is primarily the domain of those who live in the desert or among cloisters and in monks’ cells.
We do have some impressive models from such traditions. There was St. Anthony of Egypt, who withdrew to the desert and lived as a hermit until he died at 105 years old. Hardly a week passed where he didn’t have some visitor coming to seek his wisdom.
Or maybe the word “solitude” conjures up a more recent spiritual practitioner, someone closer to home, like Thomas Merton, who wrote from a Trappist monastery in Kentucky.
We might also conceive of solitude as a luxury available only to folks with few external commitments.
But, as with all spiritual disciplines, practicing solitude is for everybody.
I’ve been having my inner world re-arranged again this Lent by Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline. He knows plenty about how often misunderstood the spiritual disciplines are. So on the very first page of his book, he says, “God intends the Disciplines of the spiritual life to be for ordinary human beings: people who have jobs, who care for children, who wash dishes and mow lawns.”
Solitude is for everybody.
It’s not to be confused with loneliness.
In loneliness there is a constant wish that things would be other than they are. There is a deep, unsatisfied craving–even a sad yearning, a missing of what is not there. Loneliness includes anxiety. It feels like being forgotten or passed by. Loneliness seems more often beyond our control, whereas solitude is a choice.
Solitude and loneliness are not the same.
Neither is solitude merely time alone… any more than holy Sabbath-keeping is just lack of working.
There are plenty of ways to not work and still disregard a holy Sabbath that we consecrate to God. And there are many ways to be alone but not really alone with God. We can be alone and not even really alone with ourselves. Our first impulse when solo might be to distract ourselves with some noise or input.
Sanctified Time
Solitude is not just time alone; it’s sanctified time alone. It’s dedicated and God-focused aloneness.
The Psalmist prays to God, “My times are in your hands” (31:15). Solitude is sanctified time, willingly placed in God’s hands. It is our attention, given over to God for the purposes of God, not the purposes of the self.
Many Christians through the years have suggested one reason God doesn’t “speak” to us today is that we’re too absorbed in other noise to be attuned to God’s voice in the first place.
Solitude, then, is being by yourself, but in such a way that you are clutter-free enough to hear yourself, and to be open to the voice of God.
I share here about solitude, using the same units we use to measure time: seconds, minutes, hours, days.
Seconds
It is possible, yes, to put even the seconds of our lives into God’s hands. We can give the tick of the seconds hand to God in such a way that even something like a quarter of a minute can be sanctified for God’s work in us.
All of the spiritual disciplines have both internal and external components to them. When we think about the seconds of our days, a soul-searching question to ask is: What do I default to doing when I have a short break? What do I reach for when I’m waiting half a minute for someone to arrive at a meeting? Even when I get to the coffee shop and there are only two folks in front of me, where does my mind go? When my kid finally stops running around because he or she has to go potty, what am I doing with the short break–interrupted as it soon will be by a request for help?
All of those instances are enough time to pray, for example, the Jesus Prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”
I don’t mean we have to be deliberate about every single second of the day. That would be exhausting. And it’s good to just zone out sometimes. But especially if you’re struggling with where to find opportunities for solitude, those otherwise lost moments–those scattered seconds–are the place to begin. We all have these already-existing spaces–however small they are–that we don’t have to create. We just have to see them and be ready to use them as mini-retreats.
Thinking in terms of seconds an unexpected place to start on solitude. But this spiritual practice in particular, I think, is one where quality of time is at least as important as quantity of time.
If we don’t know how to sanctify the seconds of our lives for our communion with God–however brief it may be–if we can’t do that, we’re likely struggle when we carve out longer periods of time to reflect and pray by ourselves.
I was a professional house painter for a year. I wanted to paint fast (and well) like my boss. He cut in the best lines (with no painter’s tape!), and quickly.
But, of course, in my first weeks painting, I was only fast. As a result, I had to learn how to use a razor blade to take excess oil-based paint off window panes.
My boss referred me to Walter, the best painter in the city who occasionally worked with us. Walter trained me. He said: start with quality first. Get it right before you get it fast. Speed will follow good technique.
I slowed down. I got better at painting clean lines. My boss noticed my decrease in speed—how long it took me to do a window or baseboard—but he was patient. By the end the of year, I was painting windows and baseboards with no painter’s tape, almost as fast as my boss.
Solitude is like this, too: start with quality of time spent alone, then build quantity from there. Work on your solitude mindset technique, so to speak, in the seconds of the day.
And if you already regularly practice solitude with much greater quantity than seconds, pay attention to the seconds hand. God is just as present there as he is in your hour-long devotional time.
Minutes
Then there the minutes of our lives. They add up quickly, those minutes we need to get ready for the day, to do our hair, to take a shower, to wind down before we go to sleep. We spend minutes at a time in line at the grocery store. Minutes in the car (sometimes many minutes) stuck in traffic.
Like seconds, these minutes are already-existing moments we don’t have to create–they’re either built-in or beyond our control. And they’re a great place to practice solitude–opening ourselves up, in moments of aloneness, to God.
The other day I had to make what would be a 90-minute commute for a school meeting I was hoping would have just been an email.
Before leaving, I probably spent as much time complaining to my wife about the meeting as I would later spend stuck in traffic on the highway.
And I spent way too much psychological energy trying to figure out how I could redeem the 3 hours I knew I would be in the car. Audiobooks? Phone calls? Bass-heavy, hip hop music playlists?
To my surprise, when I got into the car to head out, I felt a fairly strong sense that I should just spend that time praying. Some of that praying ended up being confession for the non-prayer-like thoughts I had about the drivers around me. But as frustrated I was at all that time in the car, through God’s mercy, I was able to receive that solitude–such as it was–as a gift.
Hours
Our lives are made up of seconds and minutes… and also of hours. This moves us into territory where we need to carve out time and space for solitude. These hours exist–we all have the same amount of them each day. But a little more effort is required.
We’ve got to anticipate our first morning commitment and set the alarm for 15 or 30 or 45 minutes before that. Or look at what time our last commitment of the day will be and schedule time with ourselves and God at night, before we go to bed.
As we learn to practice solitude in the seconds and minutes of our days, time alone with God that is measured by the half hour and hour will become especially precious.
We heard the Gospels of Jesus–a man with relational demands on his time if ever there was one!–“But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.” Often–on a regular basis. Even while the sick and needy were trying to track him down and keep him from solitude. He withdrew–a proactive move to seek substantial alone time with God.
Days
Then, as the quality of our sanctified time in God’s hands increases, we’ll probably not be content with just seconds and minutes and even hours–we’ll start to consider whether we can spend periods of solitude that span half-days and full days.
Something like an overnight retreat or day trip to a local retreat center requires extra coordination, but it’s just as doable as planning a vacation.
As a Way of Life and Orientation of the Heart
As we weave in and out of seconds, minutes, hours, and days, the question we want to answer is: How we can live in an integrated way so that our heart’s orientation can be one of inward solitude and focus on God? Even with crowds and sounds and external demands around us each day, how can we devote our attention in a given moment to singular communion with God?
Solitude is a way of life and, overall, an orientation of the heart, whether we are alone or with others.
There is much that keeps us from practicing solitude. They are internal and external: external noise, internal noise, fear, an impulse of self-preservation, feelings of incompetence in the spiritual life, and guilt.
Especially the barrier of guilt can keep us from solitude. We may have a sense of shame or having fallen woefully short when it comes to practices like God-focused solitude. Both our past and present lack of success induce enough guilt to keep us from entering into God’s presence during important moments of our day.
But, friends, every day we have 86,400 new seconds to call God’s goodness to mind and pray. Each day affords us 1,440 more minutes to say to God, “My time is in your hands.” This time—this very second—is in your hands.
We don’t get to choose the use of all of these seconds and minutes and 24 hours. The sheer amount of inputs competing for our attention will always tempt us to pass off God-focused solitude as the purview of advanced spiritual masters. But if you miss the three-minute opportunity you just had to re-center on God, don’t beat yourself up. Just offer God the next little pocket of time you have–when you’re waiting for someone or in between commitments.
God’s promise to us through Isaiah is: “You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.”
Let us trust in God—let us trust God with our seconds, minutes, days, hours… and with focused hearts. May we fix our minds on Jesus through moments of solitude—moments both short and long. May God meet us there, and keep us in perfect peace.
Philip Yancey tells about a busy and overcommitted “spiritual seeker” who decided to check in to a monastery for a short retreat. The monk who greeted him said, “I hope your stay is a blessed one. If you need anything, let us know… and we’ll teach you how to live without it.”
To seek a posture of simplicity does not mean to eschew complexity or nuance of thought. We know those parts of life that are grey—not black and white—and that defy simplification.
But when we talk about simplicity of lifestyle, we also know what it means to overcomplicate things.
We take on too many commitments—all good ones, even, but then we can’t fulfill our responsibilities.
We lose track of where our money is going, and feel reactive rather than proactive with our finances.
We find ourselves surrounded with physical clutter at home or in our office.
We long for simplicity of focus, but often find our attention scattered.
We regret when our lack of simplicity prevents us from serving others. Valerie Hess, in her year-long Spiritual Disciplines Devotional, says that through simplicity “we seek to live a life that is pleasing to God, life-giving to ourselves, and has an element of availability to others.”
As many have pointed out, simplicity is both interior posture and external action.
Our inner lives and outward deeds mutually reinforce each other. Focused hearts produce focused minutes. And a simple lifestyle trains our hearts more fully on God.
Simplicity: Where?
Long before there was “Buy Nothing Day,” there was, “Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without.”
This is good counsel when it comes to material possessions. We want to interact with our possessions, but without anxiety. We don’t want to be possessed by what we have—or don’t have. We want to trust God with whatever we have, great or small.
And this applies not just to the stuff we have, but to our time, our financial position, our attention and focus, and even to how we interact with electronic media.
These are some of the sites where we variously experience focus and peace, or distractedness and discomfort.
Compulsion vs. Contentedness
So, yes, in a sense too much complexity is the enemy of simplicity. But I also think it’s our runaway compulsions that keep us from simplicity of life, simplicity of heart.
We are, as the great hymn says, “prone to wander.” This takes the shape of wanting more, of following our compulsions to pursue what we think we want, rather than living in joy no matter the circumstances. The call to simplicity is a call to contentedness, an exhortation to steward and enjoy what we have.
The Challenge
In Celebration of a Discipline Richard Foster tells about a friend who panicked one morning when his morning newspaper wasn’t in his yard. His friend realized he had an addiction to the morning paper. So he called and cancelled his subscription—he needed to quit cold turkey. I love Richard Foster, but nearly 40 years later, this example seems quaint. I wish my interior life were as simple as warring with myself about reading a print newspaper in the morning.
If the bombardment of statistics is true, many of us North Americans today can’t even get out of bed without checking our “newspapers” on our phones (by which I mean: text messages that came in overnight, our Facebook news feeds, and other notifications, etc.).
Foster concludes with advice that is, however, timeless and timely: “Reject anything that is producing an addiction in you.”
“How do you discern an addiction?” he asks. “Very simply, you watch for undisciplined compulsions.”
And I want to add: we should watch for “undisciplined compulsions”—especially the compulsion to worry—in these areas: time, finances, possessions, media, and our overall sense of focus.
Fear and worry keep us from simplicity. We somehow think that riding out the feelings of fear that come up will accomplish something.
Jesus was wise to ask, “Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life?”
Of course we don’t worry to try to somehow make there be 25 hours in a day. Or do we? How many times have we rejected the simple confines of sunrise, sunset, 6 days on, 1 day off, and tried to finagle 30 hours worth of commitments into a single day?
We are committed, as followers of Jesus, to a life of trust and simplicity. We resonate with this Proverb: “Give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread.”
But then, even as we are consuming the day’s bread, we worry about where it will come from tomorrow. Our fears and thoughts give way to unwise compulsions as we act on our lack of trust. We give up contentedness for a shot to add a single hour to our life by fretting, by grasping for at least mental control over our circumstances. If we can’t change our circumstances, we can at least feel a little in charge by worrying about them.
So God had to tell the Israelites, through Moses: Here’s some manna for you, but no one is to keep any of it until morning… because I will provide for you again, and I want you to go out and see it tomorrow. For now, sit back, relax, and enjoy what you have.
“Seek first the kingdom of God,” Jesus said, “and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.”
When we seek first the creations of the Kingdom, and not the Creator-King, our mind is divided, our attentions scattered, and our hearts are anything but pure and simple before the Lord.
The Vision
We do well to pray in such moments—as literal Gospel truth—“All things come from you, O Lord.” We can recognize that anything good in this life is a gift from God.
And we continue to pray, “Of your own have we given you.”
Perhaps the best antidote to a scarcity mentality is to give back to God and others out of the abundance of what we’ve received—giving generously of our time, our energy, our financial resources, and our skills.
Practical Ways Forward
If the goal is to “Seek first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness,” rather than seeking or worrying first about “all these [other] things,” what can we do externally that will shape us internally?
1. Pare Down: Less to Worry About
In general, we can shoot to pare down, so there is less to worry about.
Something as small as clearing out your backpack or purse or wallet of accumulated receipts and other random stuff can help sharpen your focus. Are you constantly carrying more than you need? Paring it down can help us have more mental clarity with which to seek the kingdom of God.
You may need to de-clutter your room or living space or car. You may find you have good stuff you just don’t need that you can give away to others who would appreciate it. See if you can find one or two things this week to give to someone else who would find them useful and enjoyable.
You might need to de-clutter your schedule, maybe even your email inbox. (Hint: take two minutes and start here.) And consider this short prayer from an old book of daily prayers: “Lord, do not let us do more, if in doing less, we might do it better.”
Start leaving margins, rather than squeezing more things into them. Pare down.
2. Simplicity of Speech
You could also consider practicing simplicity of speech. Jesus says, in the Sermon on the Mount, “Simply let your ‘Yes’ be ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No,’ ‘No’; anything beyond this comes from the evil one.”
In other words, Jesus says, when you say you’re going to do something, just say you’re going to do it… and, insofar as you can, do it. Don’t over-promise or over-represent yourself. Folks who too often say, “Believe me,” or, “I guarantee” sound more like snake oil salesman and less like people you would trust.
Parts of her approach are a little over-the-top for me, but I think it’s actually a great book with a lot to commend it.
When it comes to the things they are considering discarding or keeping, Kondo’s driving question she wants her clients and readers to ask is: “Does it spark joy?”
But maybe the apostle Paul’s ability to be content—whatever his circumstances—gives us an even more effective starting point. As we make an inventory of our clutter and distractions—physical ones and psychic ones—an even more powerful question can be, “Can I practice contentedness with this?”
Our being content is not rooted in things themselves, of course, but in a God who loves to care for and provide for his children. The Psalmist prays:
Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup;
you make my lot secure.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
surely I have a delightful inheritance.
To the back of your journal or a brand new notebook, add a couple daily writing prompts, like, “Today, I am grateful for…” and, “God, today I remember you have given me….” (fill in the blanks). Gratitude and contentedness go hand in hand, so maybe another external practice to adopt is to write a thank you note.
4. Attention/Focus
And if all else fails, and you need to super-charge your quest to seek first God, so that everything else falls into place… you could build yourself one of these:
This is The Isolator, from 1925. Which is kind of funny, because that guy thought the 20s was a distracting decade to live in!
Or you could just put your phone on “Do Not Disturb” for a little while and go the simpler route of Dorothy Day:
Image via Weavings
5. Foster’s 10 Principles
Finally, consider Richard Foster’s “Ten Controlling Principles for the Outward Expression of Simplicity.” His emphasis is on “outward expression”—there may still be some soul-searching and interior work you’ll want to do around issues of simplicity and sufficiency, worry vs. trust, compulsion vs. contentedness.
But in the middle of working through these principles in Foster’s book, I was distracted by wondering if Field Notes Brand in Chicago had released any new pocket notebooks in the last three days. When I read on their site, “Keep on scrolling. Things you need await,” I was sufficiently embarrassed, and decided we all probably could benefit from all the practical suggestions Foster gives us.
Conclusion: Start Today
May God give us the grace and courage to see the many good things of God all around us. May we be like the apostle Paul and know contentedness whether we have much or have little. He says to the church in Philippi: “I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content (keeping it pure… and focused) in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.”
And then the secret to Paul’s contentment? It’s simple: “I can do all this through him who gives me strength.”
Check out this biblical scene as re-told by The New Yorker.
The cartoonist reminds us that there are not really any quick fixes in the spiritual life.
And our best times with God are not hurried, not like a lunch order to go… but like a carefully prepared meal, where we leisurely converse and savor every bite.
Ironically (regarding this cartoon), God did free the Israelites from Egypt using a little bit of magic—or miracles, at least.
But the most salient feature of God’s delivering his people from slavery was his presence among them. He tabernacled with them, literally. God was a God seeking a people among whom he could dwell, and make his home.
The spiritual habit in focus with this post is that of meditation. Christian meditation is a way to silently open ourselves up to the working of God in us. It’s a closer sense of communion—union, even—with God.
Lectio Divina
Lectio divina is an ancient way of reading Scripture that goes back to at least the Middle Ages. It means “divine reading” or “holy reading.” It has traditionally been used by Benedictine monks, but more recently has become popular with Protestant Christians, as well. “Lectio,” as it is called, can span 20 minutes or 2 hours. Through this sort of contemplative, prayerful reading of Scripture, we open our hearts and ears to the God who speaks to us through his Word.
Saint Benedict spoke of reading the Bible with “the ears of our heart.” We can become like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, where Jesus is not just written Word, but the living Word. The idea is that Scripture and time with God would not just inform us, but form us.
Four/Five Movements
Lectio divina is not meant to be a formula. The important thing is not so much to complete the following steps as such, but to enter in to communion with God. We want to open up a space where the living God—who breathes his Holy Spirit on us—can change and shape us. This process is meant to help us do that.
One writer talks about it as “feasting on the Word,” and says you first take a bite, then chew on it, then savor its essence, and finally digest it and fully take it in to your body.
Traditionally there are four steps or movements in lectio divina—I like five, actually, since I find that starting with deliberate preparation can be helpful for focusing a wandering mind.
1. Silencio: Re-orient
Here we simply prepare ourselves for an encounter with God.
A helpful verse many use is Psalm 46:10: “Be still and know that I am God.”
This “know that God is God” is what sets Christian meditation apart from just “meditation.” We are not emptying ourselves for the sake of emptying ourselves and achieving some kind of zen state—instead, we are casting aside our distractions and preoccupations so that we can enter into fuller communion with God.
So we can begin simply by finding a comfortable place to sit—not lay, because you know how it goes when you lay down to pray. We can focus on our breathing. We can even pray something aligned with our breaths, like: “I breathe in the breath of God.” “I breathe out the worries of my heart.”
2. Lectio: Read
Having readied yourself, the first thing to do is to read a passage of Scripture, as slowly as you can. You could even use multiple translations if you find that helpful. But don’t get too hung up on logistics.
Picking a shorter passage is best. Psalms are especially good as we do this type of meditative reading, since they are already reflective prayers.
As you read you are asking, “What does the passage say?”
3. Meditatio: Reflect
Then we reflect on the passage, and give it some time to sink in. Through meditation or reflection, we let God speak to us and see what one word or phrase particularly jumps out at us. Then we meditate on that phrase for at least a couple of minutes, repeating it to ourselves over and over and asking God to come be with us and speak to us through that word.
Through meditation we ask: “What is God saying to me through this passage?”
4. Oratio: Respond
Then, having begun to read and reflect, we shape a response to the passage. You might ask God why that particular word or phrase jumps out at you, and tell God how you intend to live according to that word. In these moments of prayer, we both listen and pray our response to God. We might ask, “What do these verses call me to?” “What do you want from me, Lord?” And, “What of God do I seek more fervently now?”
5. Contemplatio: Rest
Finally, there is rest. In the end we spend more time in silence, thanking God for his Word. We simply rest in God’s presence, receiving all that he desires to give us of Himself. We surrender ourselves, too, to the will of our loving God.
We might pray things like, “Thank you God, for your mercy, revealed to me this morning. I rest in your mercy. I receive your mercy. I accept your mercy.”
After moments of contemplation, you might even wish to make for yourself some kind of reminder to keep with you—you could write or draw or paint or create a short tune to sing… however you can best capture what you’ve experienced of God, to carry with you as your day progresses.
Try it Now, If You Like
You could even try it now, if you like. Here is a short passage to use, Colossians 3:15-17:
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
You begin with silent preparation—the sort of re-orientation you need to begin lectio, and then you can read that passage before each of the movements. If you want to try this right now, below is a summary of what’s above, that you could use to work through the movements with this text.
Silencio: Re-orient
Preparation
Psalm 46:10: “Be still and know that I am God.”
Moments of silence (focus on breathing, e.g.)
Lectio: Read
Read the passage.
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
Prayerfully ask, “What does the passage say?”
Meditatio: Reflect
Read the passage.
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
Prayerfully ask, “What is God saying to me through this passage?” (one word or short phrase)
Oratio: Respond
Read the passage.
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
Listen and pray your response to God
“What do these verses call me to?” “What do you want from me, Lord?” And, “What of God do I seek more fervently now?”
Contemplatio: Rest
Read the passage.
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
Last Sunday I preached about the discipline of study: “Paying Attention to Word, Works, and Table.” I have been sharing my reflections on each of those three loci of study in a series of blog posts: the Word of God, the works of God, and the Table of God (the focus of this post).
Everything surrounding the Table of God is worthy of our careful attention and study.
I love that the disciples on the road to Emmaus did not recognize Jesus until communion time. Many communion liturgies highlight the four-fold movement that Jesus made when sitting at the table with those disciples: “When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him….”
But get this: before they recognize Jesus and before he disappears, they’ve already been engaged with Jesus in the spiritual discipline of study. Luke 24:27:
And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself.
Talk about the best Bible study leader ever! They were studying the Word of God with the Word himself. Yet they missed him.
And they were studying the works of God, especially the piece of salvation history they had been so privileged to observe first-hand. Jesus plays dumb to what’s going on in Jerusalem. But then in verse 19 they carefully recount the story of the works of God they have observed: “He was a prophet, powerful in word and deed….”
It’s not to pit against each other the Word of God, the Works of God, and the Table of God. May God give us the experience of his grace and presence in each of those areas of study! But it is to say that in Luke 24, Word and Works only took these disciples so far… until they sat down at the Table, with the risen Lord.
May we pay careful attention to the words we hear and say each time we approach the Table. May we give our full energy and alertness to the bread and the cup, every time we come forward to receive. When we turn our full attention to the communion table, we are poring over the words of Scripture, hearing them again and again and finding deeper meaning. When we come to the communion table, we are eating of the work of God’s creation: the grain of the earth and the fruit of the vine. And when we receive communion together, we do it in the context of this salvation narrative:
For God so loved the world, that he gave his one and only Son… that whoever believes in him would not perish, but have everlasting life.
Last Sunday I preached about the discipline of study: “Paying Attention to Word, Works, and Table.” I am sharing my reflections on each of those three loci of study in a series of blog posts over the next few days: the Word of God, the works of God, and the table of God.
Studying the Works of God
We ought to study—pay careful attention to—the works of God. Richard Foster notes how quick we are, when thinking about study, to go the verbal route—to books and texts. He suggests we can profitably study the non-verbal, too: nature, relationships, even ourselves. We do well, especially, I think, to carefully attend to the works of God.
We see God’s works especially through creation and through salvation history. God worked in the world to create it, and he works today to sustain all that he made.
The Bible describes creation as a worthy locus of our study. The Psalmist praises God (143:5), “I remember the days of long ago; I meditate on all your works and consider what your hands have done.” And Psalm 8: “I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers the moon and the stars, which you have set in place….” The Psalmist studies God’s creation.
More specifically, Evelyn Underhill says:
As to the object of contemplation, it matters little. From Alp to insect, anything will do, provided that your attitude be right.
We see the works of God, too, through salvation history. “I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your wonders of old. I will ponder all your work, and meditate on your mighty deeds” (Psalm 77:11-12).
Study God’s Works: How?
How can we study the works of God in creation, and throughout all of human history?
One verse you could think about memorizing this week provides a pretty neat answer to the question. Proverbs 6:6:
Go to the ant, you sluggard; consider its ways and be wise!
There’s a sense in which the giver of the Proverb excepts the ways of the ant to be self-evident: life is simple for them. But they’re industrious. They get it done, even if they don’t have a supervisor micro-managing them, as the next verse goes on to say.
But when Proverbs says, “consider its ways,” we can only get so far from memory. Go outside and actually find some ants and watch them! For, like, 20 minutes! See what you observe. Write it down or paint or draw a picture (or write a song about) what you’re seeing. Solomon implies that there is wisdom to be had in this exercise of studying a tiny creature in God’s good earth.
So, too, when Jesus says, “Look at the birds of the air” and “Consider how the wild flowers grow”… go bird watching with a field guide and some binoculars. Even if you don’t really know what you’re doing. Go find a field full of flowers and sit and stare.
And when it comes to the works of God that constitute what we call “salvation history,” you might bookmark those great chapters of the Bible that recount the story in short form: Nehemiah 9, Psalm 78, Peter’s speech starting in Acts 2:14. Read those passages and really pore over them. Get a good study Bible and let yourself get lost, following all the cross-references and study notes.
Study the works of God in the world: creation and the ongoing narrative of salvation.
Next up: the Table of God as a worth site of our careful study.
And we have the word of the prophets made more certain, and you will do well to pay attention to it, as to a light shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts. (2 Peter 1:19)
In one sense, God’s gifts of presence and love come to us whenever they come, however they come, and wherever they come. But in another sense, there are things we can do to at least try to put ourselves in the path of God’s mercy.
Sunday I preached about the discipline of study. I subtitled the sermon: Paying Attention to Word, Works, and Table. I’ll share my reflections on each of those three loci of study in a series of blog posts over the next few days: the Word of God, the Works of God, and the Table of God.
Study is, at its heart, paying close attention. Study is carefully observing a text, an event, a creature, a relationship. To study something is to mull it over and to know it and to comprehend it more fully. To study is to go beyond a surface skimming and into the depths.
Think of study as a door to your mind and heart that you open, wider and wider… it is still the Holy Spirit who comes into the space you’re opening and dwells with you… but by repetition, and by devoting your time to the object of your study, you prop open a door the Holy Spirit can come through.
Romans 12:2 urges us to “be transformed by the renewing of [our] mind.” That call is preceded by another summons: “Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world.” Conformity is the default, whether to the patterns of the world, or to the same cycles we develop in our thought life.
Something is going to make up our minds’ preoccupations anyway, so it might as well be, as Philippians puts it, those things which are true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable—whatever has these traits, “if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”
We need to practice the habit of study so our minds and hearts are themselves renewed, so we can be Christ’s agents of renewal in the world.
God’s Word: Pay Attention
Scripture is probably the first thing we think of when we ask, “What can we study?”
Ironically, we don’t have to study very long at all before we find many Scripture passages that call its readers to careful engagement.
2 Timothy 2:15: “Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth.” (To do so requires more than just vague familiarity.)
Psalm 119: “I meditate on your precepts and consider your ways. I delight in your decrees; I will not neglect your word.” And, “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path.”
And Psalm 1: “Their delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law they meditate day and night.”
For us Christians, we read these verses and have two Testaments to meditate on. But even in the Old Testament, the Law, or Torah, was not just a set or rules, but all the life-giving words that proceeded from the mouth of God.
So we give our mental energies to understanding Scripture, the words of God. We do well to read it, as best we can, on its own terms.
We can cut the poets more slack, and take them line by line.
We can appreciate the genealogies—even if we read through them as fast as we can, or skip them—as testaments to God’s faithfulness to particular people at specific times and places.
We can do our best to let Jesus speak for himself, and take seriously his radical calls to discipleship.
God repeatedly calls his people to the discipline of study, and he wants his words to be our focus.
Deuteronomy 28:13: “The LORD will make you the head, not the tail. If you pay attention to the commands of the LORD your God that I give you this day and carefully follow them, you will always be at the top, never at the bottom.”
Proverbs 4:20: “My son, pay attention to what I say; listen closely to my words.”
Proverbs 22:17: “Pay attention and listen to the sayings of the wise; apply your heart to what I teach….”
Hebrews 2:1: “ We must pay more careful attention, therefore, to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away.”
God wants us to pay attention.
And think about the word pay in pay attention: to pay is to agree to a cost, to give up a kind of currency in hope of gaining some good.
There is sacrifice involved in taking the time to pay attention to the words of God. We might consider how we forego multi-tasking when reading the Bible, and making it our sole focus. We might decide this week that we need to put some Bible reading into our calendar like we would any other appointment, to make sure it doesn’t get just two minutes here, three verses there.
Study God’s Word: How?
Nuts and bolts: how can we study the words of God? How can we pay attention closely?
You could read through a book of the Bible, start to finish, taking notes and writing down questions as you go. If it doesn’t kill you to write in your Bible, take notes in the margins, highlight, color coordinate. Or use a little pocket notebook to write down all those things that move you, that you want to hold on to, or whatever incites your curiosity and requires further study to really understand. Or you could find a small group of fellow church folk to meet with and dive in to study together.
Repetition is helpful—you might take a single Psalm or chapter from a Gospel and read it once every day in a week. See how your understanding of it progresses as you spend more prayerful time working through the text.
Another tried and true method for paying closer attention to Scripture is through a word study. Perhaps you’re on Psalm 23 and you read, “The LORD is my shepherd,” and you start thinking about shepherds. Our default might be to say, “Oh, that’s really nice. God is my shepherd. Baaa baaa.” And then we move on.
But really take time to consider “shepherds” in the Bible. Use a concordance or study Bible, or if you don’t have one of those, visit biblegateway.com to find all the other times the Bible uses “shepherd.” Who are the good ones and who are the bad ones? What does it mean to be under the care of a good shepherd?
You would probably uncover pretty quickly, in such a study, that many titles or aspects of God’s character are quickly followed by some kind of human response. “The Lord is my shepherd… (response) I shall not want.” How do the ones a shepherd guards respond?
And don’t go it alone, either—there are many centuries of devotional classics and rich commentaries on the Bible that can aid us in our study.
Memorize the Bible
In addition to studying the Bible in greater depth, we can memorize it.
Adele Calhoun, who writes about spiritual disciplines like study, says that memorization “gives the mind somewhere to go when all the media is turned off.”
Memorizing the Bible also gives your mind a good place to go when there is too much media turned on, and you need to regroup!
If you need to start small, you could work through a compendium of the shortest verses in the Bible: “Jesus wept” and, “Pray continually” … but then study the context and get behind what they mean and what they say to us today. You could memorize well-known passages like Philippians 2 or John 1 or Psalm 46.
We should study the Word of God.
Next up: the Works of God—both as seen in creation, and as seen in salvation history.
Now there are two more volumes: Genesis, by Tremper Longman III, and Romans, by Michael F. Bird.
As Tremper Longman III describes in the video below, The Story of God Bible Commentary has three primary focuses:
Listening to the Story
Interpreting the Story
Living the Story
You can read my review of McKnight’s Sermon on the Mount volume here. Also published so far have been Lynn H. Cohick’s Philippians and John Byron’s 1 and 2 Thessalonians. You can find the series landing page here.
Just a short post today to alert you to a new commentary on the book of Ruth: Daniel I. Block’s volume in the Zondervan Exegetical Commentary on the Old Testament. Ruth is just the third published volume in the series, formerly called Hearing the Message of Scripture. Block is the General Editor of the series.
I reviewed Block’s Obadiahhere. And Kevin J. Youngblood’s Jonah volume is probably the best commentary I’ve worked through on Jonah. (And there is no shortage of Jonah commentaries!)
You can learn more about the Ruth volume here. I’ll write about it again in due course.
Here, in no particular order, are some ideas for how to memorize a verse or paragraph of text. I have Bible memory specifically in mind, but this could work for any text.
There are some advantages to memorizing in a corporate context. I suggest some options here. I suppose any of those could be co-opted into an individual setting, too.
You could:
just read the verse(s) over and over until it solidifies in your memory
color code the text to enhance visual associations
do a sentence flow or diagram where you set apart subordinate clauses–this wouldn’t have to be fancy, just a way to break up the text and see the relationships spread out
start by reading one word of a given sentence, then two words, then three words, etc. So memorizing John 3:16 would go like this: “For. For God. For God so. For God so loved. For God so loved the. For God so loved the world.” And so on
write it out! Whether you make structural relationships between components of sentences and paragraphs is optional. Writing slowly helps you to turn the words and phrases over more carefully, helping you to remember them better
make flash cards. If you’re learning a Bible verse, write the verse reference on one side and the verse on the other. Or the verse reference and part of the verse on side A, with the remainder of the verse on side B
listen to the text on audio, so you have another sense engaged
for that matter, record yourself reading the text, not straight through, but with reps on each verse. So you could record yourself reading John 3:1-17 out loud, but reading verse 1 five times, then verse 2 five times, and so on
find someone to whom you can attempt to quote the passage, asking them to stop you when you don’t get it verbatim
copy the single page you’re working on, put it in a Ziploc bag, and tape it up somewhere in your house where you’ll see it (bedroom, bathroom, kitchen)
write a song or really silly rap that helps you commit the verse to memory
read the verse out loud, but backwards
do the same as above, but writing it out
give yourself some signposts–if you’re memorizing a whole chapter, start by memorizing verse 1, verse 6, verse 10, etc. Then come back and fill in the rest
brainstorm your own list of ways to memorize, keeping it handy for when you need to change it up
I’d love to hear any additional ideas in the comments below.