~by Pastor Mike Middaugh

We are quickly approaching the season of Lent (Ash Wednesday is February 18) which means we are entering a more contemplative and introspective season of the church year. As we approach Lent I thought I would take the next few weeks to outline several classic spiritual disciplines that are largely overlooked today.

1. Silence

When was the last time that you sat in silence — clean, simple, peaceful silence?

If you are anything like me, you might not be able to remember. In fact, I have realized recently I am so averse to silence that I immediately reach for my iPhone, a magazine, the radio, a remote, or just about anything else, to make sure I avoid the silence of doing absolutely nothing. This may be one of the most spiritually detrimental aspects of our modern lives. We are so busy filling our ears and our minds with information, and whatever else, that we end up feeling empty all the time.

An interesting phenomenon has emerged over the last few years in American culture – people are paying good money to be forced into silence. Whether at a Yoga Center (one I recently came across has a class called “Relax, Breathe, Meditate,”) or leaving town for a silent retreat center, which The Huffington Post dubbed one of the “biggest travel trends of 2013,” it seems we are longing for silence, even as we so often go out of our way to avoid it.

For Christians, the spiritual practices of silence and prayer have long been closely related. While prayer often involves shutting out noise, and beginning an internal dialogue with God, silence might be considered a time to simply listen.

The late Dallas Willard, a notable Christian author and USC Philosophy professor, writes:

The first and most basic thing we can and must do is to keep God before our minds. David knew this secret and wrote, “I have set the Lord continually before me; because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken. Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoices; my flesh also will dwell securely” (Ps. 16:8-9, NASB).

This is the fundamental secret of caring for our souls. Our part in thus practicing the presence of God is to direct and redirect our minds constantly to Him. In the early time of our “practicing” [silence] we may well be challenged by our burdensome habits of dwelling on things less than God. But these are habits—not the law of gravity—and can be broken. A new, grace-filled habit will replace the former ones as we take intentional steps toward keeping God before us. Soon our minds will return to God as the needle of a compass constantly returns to the north. If God is the great longing of our souls, He will become the pole star of our inward beings.

While silence is not a practice modern Christian often employ, it has a rich tradition with the people of God, one that our Catholic friends should get credit for maintaining. Trappist monk and priest Thomas Keating writes that “silence is God’s first language; everything else is a poor translation. In order to hear that language, we must learn to be still and to rest in God.” (Invitation to Love: the way of Christian contemplation)

Even Jesus needed to find silence at times. The gospel writers tell us that regularly he would “go out to a solitary place” (Luke 4:42), but that often the crowds would come seeking him, sometimes disrupting his prayerful silence. And years before the birth of Jesus, the Old Testament people of God regularly devoted themselves to prayer, even at days on end. Certainly many of David’s psalms have their roots in his own solitary endeavor to seek the will of God.

Unfortunately, the Christian practice of silence is not an easy one to master. We first have to find the time, but even before that we should admit that time is “made” and never really “found.” Second, we have to be willing to give up something else for this holy purpose. Are we able to go without the latest headline, the time-drain that is our phone, a chance to sleep in, or even our loved ones for a few extra minutes in order to seek the presence of God? Third, we have to practice. Every honest Christian practitioner of silence that I have read acknowledges that this takes practice to develop. We have to teach our minds to rest. We need to learn to simply BE in the presence of Jesus, allowing our souls to be nourished by him.

Thinking about my own experience again, I can actually remember a time that I was forced into silence. It was in the months following the birth of our now 15 month-old daughter, Scarlett.

Any new parent will tell you about restless, late nights, difficult 3 a.m. feedings, and hours spent rocking an infant to sleep, but I also vividly remember sitting in a dark room with Scarlett on my chest and realizing I finally had time to connect with God. Her needs were forcing me to nourish my own. Of course God had been there all along. In the days before Scarlett, when life was actually far less busy, I could have stopped to experience his presence, but I often didn’t. It took a tiny, needy child and a necessarily quiet room to get me to be still. When I did, I finally thanked God for the gift of my child. I allowed God to take some of the stress that comes with an infant. And some nights I simply sat in his peaceful presence.

It is up to us to choose silence and other practices of spiritual discipline that enable us to “grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (2 Pet. 3:18).

Click Here for Part 2 of this series.

Click Here for Part 3 of this series.

~by Pastor Mike Middaugh

As Sandi and Scarlett and I traveled home after seeing each of our families during the Christmas break we carted with us what seemed like half of our earthly belongings: 1 large suitcase, 2 small suitcases, 1 car-seat base, 1 car-seat, 1 stroller, 1 laptop bag, and 1 diaper bag. Oh, and a sometimes screaming, sometimes giggling, and always unpredictable 14 month old toddler.

So it was at the end of our trip that we slowly managed all these items off a plane, through the airport, and on and off the metro, arriving home at the Columbia Heights stop only to find the elevator “out of service.” Trying to figure out how to deal with this we ultimately decided to take as much as we could, stroller and baby included, up the escalator, leaving one lonely bag unattended at the bottom. As I rode the escalator up I looked back to our abandoned bag hoping no one would take it, or worse, report it as suspicious. As I did, I was surprised to see a Latino man who must have seen our plight waving, and offering to bring it up behind me. I graciously accepted and then awkwardly told him thank you when he met me at the platform on top.

A random act of kindness. A gesture of generosity. A moment of shared human empathy, because really, we have all been in situations where we just needed a hand.

It is amazing what something like that can do. A little kindness can bring a smile and some peace to a stressful situation. That man’s thoughtfulness certainly made our walk home a little brighter even as we stepped out of the station and into the rain.

As we go about our lives today with our technology in hand, our headphones in our ears, the busyness of our lives, and our tendency to quickly think “i don’t want to get involved,” we are at risk of becoming more and more isolated from one another. Strangely, it seems that the larger the city and the bigger the crowd the more self involved and introverted we become. This is a dangerous cycle – the more isolated we are, the more distrustful and standoffish we tend to be, and the more isolated we become.

As Christians, living in the midst of all of this, are we living up to Jesus’ commission to love our neighbors? Is it even possible to really love our neighbor as we go through the bustle of our days? And if we were to take the time to love our neighbors, all of those in need throughout our day, would we actually get anything else done? I guess that might be a worthwhile challenge to pursue.

I would argue that doing our best to love our neighbors is still a battle worth fighting. Maybe more so than ever before. In that moment when I needed a kindness from my neighbor that man on the escalator was there to help. He and I may not share the same language, and our backgrounds might be wildly different, but in that moment something worthwhile was exchanged between the two of us. He did something nice. I said thank you. A little trust was built, a connection was experienced, and perhaps most importantly, it made me think about whether I would have done the same for him. His gesture was a teaching moment and something that stuck with me.

I believe Jesus’ command to love our neighbor might have far greater implications that it seems on the surface. Yes, it is the right thing to do, as Jesus taught, but when we love and care for someone else, a bridge is built and a connection is experienced. We are actually drawn toward them as we care for them. People on both sides of the process often grow and, even if in very small ways, they momentarily become the better for it.

There are too many things that separate us today. Especially as news of terrorism and violence scroll across our screens, and trusting others is sometimes hard, we need to be reminded and shown that we have much in common. We need to constantly remind ourselves and teach our hearts that we are called to follow Jesus, and that means loving as Jesus loved. The first step in doing this is to simply extend ourselves, to go out of our way for someone else. No, we shouldn’t take on undo risk, but sometimes that is just an excuse. Small gestures do matter, little acts of kindness often aren’t little.

When fully lived out, loving our neighbor means not just doing nice things here and there, but rather it is being led by Jesus as we become his hands and feet at work, caring for the whole person, whoever that may be, desiring the best for them, and doing what we can to see that through.