February 15, 2014
Texts:Psalm 37:7
Psalm 46:10
1 Kings 19:12 God meets with Elijah “a still small voice.”
Thank you for the chance to share with you today. I’ve given two teachings at 8th day and for each of them a specific message came to mind, I pondered it for a couple of months, and ideas for how to illustrate it came easily to me. That wasn’t the case with this teaching. I’ve struggled with how to illustrate what I want to say.
What I want to explore is how we can become more comfortable with being rather than doing. How do we prepare ourselves spiritually so that we can be quiet when it is needed? How do we discern when a situation calls for being rather than doing?
In 8th Day terminology, I’m wrestling with how to develop the inner journey and how and when to tap into that inner journey as opposed to developing the outer journey and discerning when to tap into that part of our spirituality.
While I was thinking about this, I remembered a song that I used to sing as a teenager that gave me comfort. The line in the song was: “Be still, and know that I am God.” It’s a verse in Psalm 46. When I sat on my bed, strummed an autoharp, and sang, “Be still, and know that I am God,” I felt peaceful.
I looked up in a concordance the word “still,” and I found it in several places in the Bible. As well as in Psalm 46, the word is used in Psalm 37. In that Psalm, a verse reads, “Be still before the Lord, and wait patiently for him.” There’s also an interesting reference to God appearing as a “still small voice” to the prophet Elijah. The passage in 1 Kings 19 about Elijah says that Elijah stood on a mountain and prepared to meet God. While Elijah was waiting, God passed by the mountain, and a strong wind broke up rocks into pieces on the mountain, but God was not in the wind. Then there was an earthquake, but God was not in the earthquake. After that, Elijah witnessed a fire, but God was not in the fire. In fact, the Bible says that God became present to Elijah in the “still small voice” that followed the fire.
How can we be still and wait for God? Or how can we encounter the “still small voice” that is God?
It seems that a number of us here at 8th Day have been thrust into being rather than doing recently in accompanying loved ones in death. Also, at least two people have jobs and callings of accompanying people in death, which requires the ability to slow down and be still. I’m thinking of Patty and Dixcy.
In September, my family of origin and I were put into this situation. My father, who was 85, had a stroke. The stroke left him bedridden and unable to speak, though he could nod.
For 13 days my doing family (which I also refer to as my worker bee Mennonite family) became a being family. There were things to do, but when my father was dying, it was more important to just be with him, to hold his hand, to stroke his head. I felt that the silent retreats and time I’d spent in prayer over the last 10 years prepared me for that time. My Mom and two of my three siblings were also able to slow down and simply be present to Dad. My father, who had been a busy man for most of his life, had no choice but to interact only by being—not by doing anything. My Dad couldn’t really talk, but occasionally, words popped out. Once during those 13 days, I told him, “It’s really nice to be here with you, Dad.” And he answered, “You, too.”
After Dad died, my siblings, Mother and I spent more time together than we had since we were growing up at home. In a small convoy, we drove the body in a farm truck from Lancaster, Pa., to upstate New York near Canada for the burial. Then about a week later, we gathered for a few days in my hometown for the memorial service.
And in that being together, telling stories, taking walks, eating together, holding the new baby in the family, visiting the footbridge my father had built at a nature center, we drew closer together. Being together helped to strengthen relationships more than decades of doing things together. I felt a strong sense of peace during the whole experience of accompanying my Dad in dying and gathering to honor his life. The experience fortified my faith. I felt that God was with us.
It seemed that Carol Fitch’s family also had some rich times of being with her while she was dying. I remember that Paul Fitch described how vibrant Carol’s spirit was days before she died. The strength of her spirit outlasted the strength of her physical body.
In the beginning of life, as well as at the end of life, we do a lot of being rather than doing. Our parents accompany us as infants, interacting with us in nonverbal ways, until we speak and learn to take actions.
But I long to incorporate that opportunity for being rather than doing more in my everyday life—during the middle years. How can our spirits interact in a more meaningful way for those of us who are very much still alive and healthy?
There’s a lot of doing involved with being a teacher. But I’m trying to be aware of moments during which I can be with students when I’m not teaching. I find I can do this in the morning before school starts. A small group of my current and former students gather. One keeps his trumpet in my closet. One kid started leaving his binder in my room, even though he didn’t ask me. They have lockers, but they want a place to check in where there is someone present who cares about them.
Overall , however, my day-to-day life is not jibing well with this sermon. Recently I’ve been experiencing emotional ups and downs. One day I had a party. I was very happy celebrating an educational milestone that has helped me to develop as a teacher. Then two days later, I struggled to get out of bed and go to work. I want to be a peaceful presence but the tape in my head is distracting me. Sometimes my mind is racing when it needs to be still. One day I had a great time with my students as we read a play. Some students volunteered for parts. Others read in funny voices and made us laugh. The next day, I went home discouraged because yet another student had cursed me out when I asked her to comply with classroom or school rules. I’m not feeling at peace right now in my everyday life. I want more of a sense of being still and hearing the “still small voice” of God.
I feel I’m asking the right questions but I don’t feel answers are coming to me.
How can we slow down our lives and be still when it is needed and take action when it is also needed? And how do we tell the difference?