“Be More, Do Less”

“Be Still and know that I am God

Be Still and know that I Am

Be Still and Know

Be Still

Be” 

The above, a variation of Psalm 46 by Richard Rohr, is a reminder of perhaps the most essential element that comprises listening, namely stillness.  It is hard, in fact almost impossible, to listen when there is all sorts of noise, distractions and disruptions.

I was reminded of that in the most delightful way at 6:00 a.m. this morning when my two grandchildren came tip-toeing out of their bedrooms.  I was in the middle of my regular morning quiet routine and was surprised that they were up so early.  Initially I attempted to ignore them. Ha!  Impossible!  Have YOU ever tried not paying attention to a seven and three year-old who are bright eyed and bushy tailed? So I did my best to try to integrate them into my routine by taking them up on my lap and sitting quietly with them.  That lasted for about five seconds.  As they jumped down and began pulling books off the shelf and playing games I simply surrendered.  It was a delightful Divine distraction.

Sometimes we experience such disruptions to our times devoted to God.  Other times we create them ourselves.  We willfully become victims of the noise and the nonsense that seems to never cease, intentionally surrounding ourselves with sensory stimulating devices that distract us from the divine.  And we tell ourselves the story, yes, sell ourselves the popular product promoted everywhere in our culture, that our worth is measured by our busyness, therefore we must do more and be less.  Do you doubt this?  Then consider the last time you spent a day without having any plans, other than to experience God.  Think about how frequently the phrase “I really should be doing . . .  (fill in the blank)” filters into your thinking when you’re sitting down doing nothing.

Not only are we uncomfortable with our own stillness, but also with the stillness of others.  In Luke 10:38-42 there is a story that illustrates the difference between being busy and the resentment that can be generated when someone else appears to be doing nothing.  Perhaps take time to contemplate the pertinence of this message.

“Kitchen Table Wisdom; Stories that Heal” is a wonderful book written by Rachel Naomi Remen.  She is a physician who learned the importance of simply listening to her patients. In the book she recounts some of her marvelous encounters.  One of my favorites is the story she tells of a time in her life that preceded her medical practice. She was a fourteen year-old girl who had gotten a summer job at a nursing home.  Her first assignment was to spend time with a ninety-six year old woman who was described as having “senile dementia” and hadn’t spoken for over a year.  Rachel went into her room where she found two chairs sitting facing the window. In one sat the woman, the other was empty.  Rachel sat down and attempted to engage the woman with conversation and activity.  The woman did not seem to even be aware she was there, so Rachel gave up and sat quietly.  She did so for an hour doing and saying nothing, only sitting still with the woman.  When it came time to leave she turned to the woman and asked, “What are you looking at?”  The woman turned toward her with a radiant look on her face and replied, “Why, child, I am looking at the Light.”

In stillness the woman could see the Light.  And by sitting with the woman in silence Rachel saw her Light.  By sitting in silent stillness we can not only see, but  hear the Light as well.  What’s more, by sitting still we will not be doing but only being.  Being in the Light, so that we can Be the Light.