Solitude: The Practice of Silence and Stillness with God - Issue #16
Quick Update: On February 11, I have a book, The Possibility of Prayer, releasing. I hope you get a chance to read it.
Have you ever tried to be still for a few minutes? Just ten minutes. I don’t mean sitting still while reading a book or checking twitter, but really sitting still. It’s difficult.
Or have you attempted to be quiet—not just quiet your voice, but try to quiet what’s going on inside? It’s also difficult. Just walking through a grocery store without music playing feels maddening. Turn something on! Anything!
We are easily distracted, bored, and there is something very discomforting about silence and stillness. We should be doing something. This isn’t a good use of time. We aren’t getting stuff done.
“Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). The psalmist adds some complexity to this stillness: God. He puts us in relationship with God and instructs us to feel everything that comes up. And trust me, things come up. In normal relationships with ordinary people, dynamics of fear, guilt, and shame arise. It’s bound to happen. We are bent towards it. We have encountered sin in the world (ours and theirs) and so we have experienced this world as a dangerous place. It’s not safe. But we find ways of feeling safe. We hide. We play-act. We put on masks. We manipulate. We steamroll over those who threaten us. We control. We over-compensate for our weaknesses. We escape. We lie. We micro-manage. These are our safety schemes in a world of sin. We all do it. Pretending you don’t is just another safety scheme.
Now, if we struggle to be ourselves around others, how much more with God? We don’t feel safe in solitude. All the ghosts and goblins come out to play. Our insecurity monsters are free to begin screaming their heads off in our silence. That’s when we reach for our phones, our to-do lists, our anything!
“Be still and know that I am God”
Be still and know that I am more important than you.
Be still and know I was before you.
Be still and know how little you are.
Be still and know that you must give an account to me.
Be still and know I created you.
Be still and know that I have full authority.
Be still and know your attempts at autonomy are laughable.
Be still and know that your safety schemes don’t work!
Being still with God means reckoning with God and with yourself. That feels unsafe.
Charles Taylor describes modern people as “buffered selves,” meaning people who “block out certain ways in which transcendence has historically impinged on humans, and been present in their lives.” In other words, we want be free from God’s (or anybody’s) authoritative reach. But being free from God’s authoritative reach means being free from his healing reach.
We have found ways of resisting God’s healing reach with technology. It’s amazing how good a like or retweet feels and it has numbed us from a longing for divine healing. I can get what I need today by just pushing refresh over and over. These habits have taught us where to go when solitude with God has felt unsafe. It’s almost unconscious and feels innocent. But it keeps us from healing. We don’t know how to be alone with God and often don’t want to.
In silence and stillness, when all our insecurity monsters are hollering, that is when the presence of Christ can heal. We will need to acknowledge our griefs, fears, unmet desires, and shame in order to be healed.
Solitude is a way we take our insecurities, anxieties, fears, and wounds, before Christ and say, Here, I don’t have what it takes to do this in my own strength anymore. And Jesus says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:3). Blessed are those that feel their poverty.
Solitude might surprise you. It’s not for the “rich in spirit.” That sounds nice, but that only comes later and only from Christ. No, solitude is for those of us who have come to the end of themselves and find that their safety schemes don’t work. We don’t have the resources or energy to do it.
“Be still and know that I’m God,” the psalmist says.
To those impressed with themselves, that sounds terrifying and threatening. But to the poor in spirit, it sounds like an invitation to healing. And it is.
Practicing Solitude
If you’ve ever wondered what you’re supposed to be doing during solitude, you’re not alone. Below is a quick guide. There’s mention of “Anchor Psalms” — they’re just Psalms that can anchor your thoughts when they wander. Take a short phrase or verse in on eof them so that when your mind begins to wander (and it will), you can grab a hold, mentally, of the truth in the Psalm.
What is Solitude? Psalm 62:1—“For God alone my soul waits in silence.”
For God alone. —Your solitude is about God. The habit of solitude is to connect with God in his view of you and your life, ensuring primarily that you and your life are centered more on God than self.
My Soul Waits. — I’m waiting for the satisfaction to come on God’s terms, not mine. We reach for the most fleshy, blinking, beeping, twinkling thing within our reach. We absolutely do not want to wait. We just want. Solitude is the intentional and regular habit of waiting and forming our wanting.
In Silence. —Solitude is not being left alone, it is listening. Listening in solitude is letting the Word of God act upon us. We’ve taken the truth of the Scripture and pressed into it. Now quietly we are letting the Truth press into us.
Practicing Solitude
Find a place to sit comfortably. If it helps, light a candle. For some, the candle is a reminder of his presence. Turn off your phone and any distractions.
After reading & meditating on a passage of Scripture (or an Anchor Psalm), set a timer for 10-15 mins.
Quietly sit (with your Bible or journal closed) and invite God to speak and be present. It might be helpful to begin by saying the words of Samuel, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” (1 Samuel 3:9) or simply the words of Abraham when God called him to sacrifice Isaac, “Here I am” (Genesis 22:1).
Your mind will wander. Anxieties may come. There’s no reason to beat yourself up or feel guilty. Just bring yourself back, maybe using the Anchor Psalm to ground you.
It could be that that God brings things to mind: a friend to pray for, some truth you have forgotten, some insight or even instruction for you or others. Remember, solitude is for listening not just silence. Write it down to act upon whatever God seems to be saying, but finish your time with him.
When the timer goes off, say “Thank you” to him. Whatever you experienced, just having been in his presence was a gift.
By John Starke
John Starke
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Pastor of Apostles Church Uptown, New York City