It’s good to be back home with the household of God, my St. Thomas family. Last week, I attended the Forward in Faith Assembly in St. Louis, Missouri, along with Bishop and my mom. We had quite an adventure coming home. Our flight from St. Louis to Philadelphia was cancelled. Then our rebooked flight from St. Louis to Charlotte was delayed nearly two hours, leaving us a scant 15 minutes to make our connection in Charlotte to Salisbury. Fortunately (unfortunately), the Salisbury flight was also delayed about two hours. Throughout this ordeal, my thoughts dwelt on the impending Tuesday morning deadline at work, which would have me spending all night in the office. Originally scheduled to arrive home around 5:30pm, we got into Salisbury about 11:40pm. Tired and fuzzyheaded in the way that only air travel can do, I dragged into the office at 7:15am to begin the marathon session. Back in my college days, while all-nighters did make me tired, still I could bounce back fairly quickly in one or two days. Not so any longer, especially when additional deadlines, responsibilities, and events deny the rest that I so long for, so need, so deserve.
The Disciples were in the same boat. Well, they were literally in a boat and I was in a plane, but you get the picture. They had gone out two-by-two, as Jesus had sent them. “They went out and preached that people should repent. They drove out many demons and anointed many sick people with oil and healed them” (Mk. 6:12-13). The twelve had gone to all the towns and villages: they had stayed up late, gotten up early, preached till their throats were hoarse, anointed the sick till it seemed they’d never wash the oil off their hands. They were worn out from good, hard work.
Jesus saw that they were tired, He knew that they were hungry, and so He offered them an invitation: “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest” (Mk. 6:31). Jesus invited the apostles to a quiet place; he invited them to be alone—alone with Jesus, what a special place.
Being alone, solitude, is part of who Jesus is, and part of what He modeled for the Apostles. Jesus taught His disciples, those committed to Him, when they were alone. “When he was alone, the Twelve and the others around him asked him about the parables. He said to them, ‘The secret of the kingdom of God has been given to you’” (Mk. 4:10). Again, “He did not say anything to them [i.e., the crowds] without using a parable. But when he was alone with his own disciples, he explained everything” (Mk. 4:34). Jesus waited till the private moments for the clearest teaching.
Jesus’ true nature is revealed to those who are alone with Him. Most gloriously, “After six days, Jesus took Peter, James and John with him and led them up a high mountain, where they were all alone. There he was transfigured before them” (Mk. 9:2). The crowds and the followers were not prepared for this revelation, not even all of the Twelve, only Peter, James, and John. And even they struggled and stumbled in the face of Jesus’ glory.
Jesus went out to lonely places for prayer; He delved into secrets of the kingdom only when alone with His disciples; and His glory was revealed only alone with His very closest followers. By calling them out to the quiet, Jesus was inviting them not simply to get away from the crowds and get some victuals, but to join Him in fellowship with the Father. “Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed” (Mk. 1:35). It is in unencumbered communion with Christ, apart from the world, that we can hear His teaching most clearly; it is alone with Him that we find “food to eat that [the world] know[s] nothing about” (Jn. 4:32); it is only in absolute intimacy with Him and union to Him that the blinding radiance of His glory is seen.
Being alone, coming to the quiet place, is the consecration of time, of my time. It is not about shunning fellowship of man; Jesus variously took all or part of His disciples when He was alone; but sometimes it was just Him and His Father. What a remarkable invitation, “Come to a quiet place.”
Those who dwell in the world are terrified of being alone. We live not simply in a world full of noise, but one where people intentionally introduce and multiply noise. According to Nielsen, the authority on such matters, the average American now watches 4-1/2 hours of television, movies, and Internet video each day, that is 32 hours per week. I see enough television to know that it’s mostly noise. Internet, radio, even the venerable newspapers, are hardly better than television, and are oftentimes worse.
Why is the world so afraid to go to the quiet place? Well, what may be found in the quiet place is so unlike what the world knows; it is the very unraveling of the dreamworld, and the discovery of reality, one that has meaning and purpose, a definite beginning and an approaching end. Noise forms a blockade against the quiet; it is a defense mechanism. The quiet place is a vulnerable place. The quiet place is a place for self-assessment—what haven’t I done that I should do, and what have I done that was wrong? The quiet place is a holy place, a place where man might meet God. The noise keeps the quiet at bay, for as long as the noise lasts.
Noisy life keeps man dull enough that he can almost be happy with carnal life, almost. When the noise is present, having a full belly, or fulfilling burning desire, or preserving one’s existence creates satisfaction, oh yes indeed-y. But the belly is soon empty again, the passions burn once more, and another threat to life comes along, and the former satisfaction ends.
Despite the fleeting pleasures that man can find through his body, man always knows that there is something more, a pleasure which does not diminish with use or age, a desire that does not grow cold, and life that goes beyond survival and ‘just making it.’ There is this remnant of light that shines in the darkness, and darkness is able to overcome it; there is a moment of silence that penetrates the noise, and the noise cannot drown it out.
Those with whom we work and live—those to whom we are sent, into whose path we are come—they are starving for “food that endures to eternal life” (Jn. 6:27); they don’t know how to say, “You will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand” (Ps. 16:11); they can’t discover on their own, “Whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for [Jesus] and for the gospel will save it” (Mk. 8:35). We must be the quiet in which they can hear Jesus.
So how do we do this? Jesus has called us away to a quiet place with Him. We must go. Shun the noise, drive it out, destroy it. I’m not saying to go and chuck that new 46” Samsung LED, flat panel, 3D television with surround sound in the trash, but actively guard your soul, so that you do not permit it to become a distraction from the call of Christ to be alone.
Remember that the average American drowns in 4.5 hours of TV and video each day? I’m going to say that St. Thomas is doing better than the average American (and for that sake of simpler math), let’s say that we watch 2:30 to 3:20 television daily. One tenth (a tithe) of that time is 15-20 minutes each day. Are you spending 15-20 minutes alone and quiet with the Lord, just the two of you, apart from all other distractions? (Am I? Not always, but I long for that quiet.) And when those distractions come, vehemently drive them out of the way, like a father yelling at a child who has stepped into the holy ground between him and the TV playing Monday night football? If you are not spending that time to go to the quiet place, just 15-20 minutes for starters, please, I beg of you, begin.
There’s a peculiar passage in Ezekiel: “When the people of the land come before the LORD at the appointed feasts, whoever enters by the north gate to worship is to go out the south gate; and whoever enters by the south gate is to go out the north gate. No one is to return through the gate by which he entered, but each is to go out the opposite gate” (Ez. 46:9). Why should it matter what door I enter into and exit out when I come to worship? Because when we come to God in the quiet place, we are transformed and cannot go back into the world the same way.
If you commit to regular encounters, the Lord will meet you. You may not perceive His touch every time, but every time He will meet you and you will be changed.
