Come & Find the Quiet Center

Mark 1: 35 & Psalm 46

Roger Lynn

October 15, 2017

(CLICK HERE for the audio for this sermon)
(CLICK HERE for the video of the whole worship service - the sermon starts at 17:50)

We live fast-paced lives in a fast-paced world. Even the most relaxed and easy-going among us are exposed to more hectic cultural noise than our grandparents could ever have dreamed of. We have microwaves at home and fast food in the car, high-speed internet,  express lanes on the freeway, TSA-pre-approved lines at the airport, 24-hour shopping and “all news all the time” television channels, cell phones and e-mail and instant messaging for those times when e-mail is just too slow and Twitter for when instant messaging just isn’t good enough. Multitasking is considered a prized skill. I’m exhausted just thinking about it all. And it only seems to be speeding up all the time.

In an interview several years ago on NPR’s Fresh Air, Win Butler, one of the members of the Canadian art-rock band “Arcade Fire,” talked about performing in large crowds and experiencing the odd modern phenomenon where people are so "plugged in" that they are on their cell phones talking to their friends about how cool it is to be at the concert, while they are in the middle of the concert. His perception was that in their hunger for instant connection, they are missing the actual experience of the moment – they are talking about life rather than experiencing life. 

And even if we manage to turn off the flow of external noise, there is still the voice inside our own head – “you haven’t finished that project, there are five more things that need to be done today, you don’t have time to sit down yet, reading that book will just have to wait.”

The price we pay for this accelerated life-style is more than just the occasional ulcer. If we are not very careful we run the risk of losing connection with ourselves, each other and the Sacred. It’s a bit like trying to see the stars while standing underneath a streetlight, or trying to listen to the whispers of a child in the middle of a crowded airport. Our lives are filled with the spiritual equivalent of noise pollution. 

Fortunately, there is something we can do to counter this problem. It’s not easy, because there are so many forces, both internal and external, moving us in the other direction. But it really isn’t very complicated. In the words of the old Simon and Garfunkel song, “Slow down. You’re moving to fast.” Or, in the words of the song we sang earlier this morning, “Come and find the quiet center in the crowded life we lead.” We can continue to be pushed along in all directions by the many and varied winds which blow around us. Or we can be intentional about stepping off the treadmill from time to time and focusing our attention on seeking the stillness in which we might stand a chance of hearing God’s voice. “Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10) This is not a call to be a monk or a hermit. It is a call to rediscover and reclaim a sense of balance in our lives – to reconnect with the sacred rhythm of life.

Jesus understood this need very clearly. The Gospels make a point of describing occasions when he took a break from all the other claims on his time and energy, and sought instead to re-connect with the Sacred Source of life. He took the time to get away and pray. There were still sick people who needed healing. There were still hungry people who needed to be fed. There were still those who needed to hear a word of comfort or inspiration. And Jesus knew that he could not continue to meet those needs without also being very intentional about keeping his own spiritual batteries charged.

So, what does this look like for us? How does it play out in the actual living of our lives, here in the 21st century? Well, for starters, it requires that we be intentional about it. It absolutely will not just happen. There will always be things (important things) that get in the way and crowd out the opportunity. So we must choose to make it a priority. We must choose to make the time and take the time to find the quiet center – to be still and listen for the whisperings of God, to notice that every moment is a sacred moment. 

Once we make that choice the possibilities are endless. There is no one “right” way to go about this. Indeed, each of us will probably need to find several different ways of going about it. It keeps us from getting stuck in yet one more boring routine. And each particular practice opens us up in different ways and to different degrees. So, find the ways that work for you. Try things. Give them a chance. 

In my office are several items which remind me to be still – a candle, a singing bowl, a fountain, my flute. Just having them there, even when I’m not actively “using” them, reminds me of the need to slow down and pay attention.

In the midst of worship on Sunday mornings, there are occasions when I remember to be still. Often it is a moment when there is music playing, and I don’t have anything I need to be “doing.” I pay attention to my breathing. I seek to be aware of the presence of the Spirit in that particular moment.

For several years now I have found walking the labyrinth to be a spiritual practice in which I literally seek “the quiet center.” As I walk the path which leads eventually to the center, I seek to quiet my heart, quiet my life, so I can come more fully into the vast expanse of God’s presence.

Photography has become a spiritual practice for me. It provides me with an opportunity to focus my attention and find a deep sense of stillness. I am literally learning to see the world differently, and in the process I learn to discover the presence of the Holy in even the smallest of details.

And in the past few years playing the flute has become for me a path to stillness. In order to let the music flow it is necessary for me to get out of the way. I become a channel through which God’s Spirit can breathe music into the world. In the words of the Sufi poet Hafiz, 

I am a hole in a flute

that the Christ’s breath moves through

listen to this music

These are just a few of the many possibilities. Maybe for you, finding the quiet center happens when you take time to read (or maybe even write) poetry. Perhaps it comes when you take a walk in the woods. A time each day for reading the Bible or some other devotional literature might be one of the ways you discover the path to stillness. For some I know that gardening serves this purpose. For others it is art. The important thing is not which particular paths you choose. They simply need to be your paths. The only requirement is that they help you find a place of stillness where God’s presence can be recognized and experienced – where the whisper of God’s Spirit can be heard.

Out of the stillness flows connection. Out of the connection flows meaning and purpose. Out of the meaning and purpose flows direction and action. “Be still, and know that I am God.” I invite you now, in this moment, to seek the stillness.