I’m the sort of person who doesn’t mind going to a movie alone. That’s weird I know, but then again so am I. All of the voices inside my head get along pretty well most of the time so the occasional time alone is positive more often than not.
My new preaching gig graciously allows me to attend some sort of conference each year, but since nothing particularly appealing fit into my calendar and since I never really had a chance to reflect prior to jumping from one job into another, I opted for a personal spiritual retreat this year—retreating today and returning on Friday. I suspect that I will talk to a person or two along the way at a restaurant or convenience store, but the plan is to spend time alone in silence. Listening to the sound of stillness. Meandering on a couple of scenic runs. Praying and meditating. Reflecting and planning. Dreaming. Preparing my mind, heart, and soul for a new year (as our church family marks time) that is rapidly approaching.
Utah is my chosen destination, partly because I have never been, partly because it is far enough away and yet not so far either, and partly because of a landmark there that may or may not have something to tell me about the sermon series I intend to deliver in the fall. We’ll find out soon enough.
We are all different. For some, such a week ahead may sound like torture, but I am almost giddy with excitement. Who knows what might emerge when I get away from routines and responsibilities, meetings and appointments, emails and notifications long enough and far enough to take a deep breath and truly listen?
Posted in Original Essays
Tagged breathe, contemplation, dream, listen, meditation, prayer, reflection, retreat, running, silence, solitude, soul, spirituality, utah
“Let the site tell you its secrets.” — Christopher Alexander
I joke that my propensity to arrive early for absolutely everything is a sickness, but in reality it is a treasured quality since it reminds me of mom and dad. Being early is my heritage. With age, it seems that I am less impressed with my unique qualities and particularly value those characteristics that connect me to a larger story.
I arrive very early for work on Sunday mornings to prepare for our church’s collective time together, a couple of hours early in fact—and love it. We decided to meet in stunning Stauffer Chapel this summer thanks to a brilliant suggestion from my friend, Sara, and the setting has made the early morning solitude particularly delightful.
I like the strange sensation of opening the door to discover that no one else is there and being the first to step inside. I like turning on the lights and straightening the hymnals and removing the leftover trash from the pew racks. I like arranging the podium and communion table just right and reviewing the sermon, imagining the congregation at breakfast preparing to join with me and with others. I like propping open the doors and hearing the gurgling fountain outside and then returning to the deafening quiet inside and the intense feeling of anticipation. I like to notice the sun pierce through the massive stained glass spraying psychedelic graffiti all over the quiet sanctuary.
Famed architect, Christopher Alexander, argued that users of a space know more about their needs than the architect and wrote, “Let the site tell you its secrets.” In my sacred Sunday solitude, I don’t seem to be able to articulate my needs, but it sure seems that the space has secrets to tell. I listen each week and can almost hear them. Maybe if I listen long enough?
In reality, I’m not sure that sacred spaces have actual secrets to tell. But maybe the wonder that is found in showing up early to listen is secret enough.
Posted in Original Essays
Tagged architect, christopher alexander, church, early, listen, pepperdine, quiet, sacred, secrets, silence, solitude, space, stauffer chapel