“In Scetis a brother went to Moses to ask for advice. He said to him, ‘Go and sit in your cell, and your cell will teach you everything.’”
by the Rev. Paul McLain
This new reality of social distancing and safe-at-home may be with us awhile. One of the temptations we face is seeing this as a time to find means of escape until we get back to “normal.” Yes, for many of us, we will need to find some escape valves along the way to avoid going stir crazy. But, if our whole life becomes about seeking escape and distraction, we will miss an opportunity.
Rowan Williams writes, “We are easily persuaded that the problem of growing up in the life of the spirit can be located outside ourselves. Somewhere else I could be nicer, holier, more balanced, more detached about criticism, more disciplined, able to sing in tune, and probably thinner as well. Unreality has a huge advantage over reality in some ways since it is not obliged to obey any laws of cause and effect. But there’s the catch – you are involved in those laws. So: ‘If a trial comes upon you in the place where you live, do not leave that place when the trial comes. Wherever you go, you will find that what you are running from is there ahead of you. So, stay until the trial is over...’”[1]
Those of us who are not digital natives are finding ways to use technology to stay connected to old and new neighbors in ways we thought were out of reach for us. But the monastic virtue of stability draws us also to see this time of staying-in-place as a unique opportunity to sit quietly and cultivate our inner life. Williams writes, “So we come back to the beginning: our life and death is with the neighbor, the actual here and now concept in which we live – including that unique neighbor who is my own embodied self and whom I must confront truthfully as I confront all the rest truthfully.”[2]
Jesus does not escape his embodiment. He instead embraces it. He shows us that part of being fully human is to find some solitude wherever we are. We often see his times of being alone for prayer as intermissions in the story until the next act, the next miracle, or the next public discourse. Instead, those moments of solitude are the times he makes the deepest connection with God the Father and stills his heart for more profound connections with all of us and with himself.
While it is important to stay informed and reach out to others during this time, it is also vital that we take mini-retreats from electronics and discover the innermost recesses of our own consciousness. Williams concludes, “Then as today, the cell, the place of staying, is a refining fire. . .Where we are and who we are is the furnace where the Son of God walks.”[3]
Alone here in the house, the temptation is to “pump up the jam.” These words are a call to find strength in silence and an awareness that we are all, and at all times, in the holy presence of God.
ReplyDeletePaul, good reflection!
ReplyDeleteI’m reminded that I need to stop reaching for my phone, iPad, tv clicker, etc. God forbid I should dwell within!
On the other hand, I learned during my several years at VTS that some of us are more inherently disposed towards silence, prayer and introspection, but for some of us it is always an effort.
I recall a summer camp many years ago, in the Diocese of Southwestern Virginia, during which I discovered to my relief, that my extroverted, talkative nature was sometimes useful in community.
There are talkers and there are listeners. Where would we be without each other??
One cold, snow-laden retreat week in the hills of either Virginia or Maryland, I spent an entire weekend in “community silence.” I even read Martin Buber’s “I and Thou (hardly my usual reading fare!)”
It was the longest, and one of the most difficult three-day periods of my life until then.
I emerged from that experience more accepting of myself. I took comfort in the knowledge that God has created “all sorts and conditions “ of us. We are not all alike.
I am not better than you are, nor are you better than I am. We are just different. God creates all of us different folks, mixes us together and makes His diverse world.
I’m forever grateful to be part of it.