A QUIET PARTY

A slacker. I have been a slacker the last couple of months in my blogging! I used to write something almost every day in the past. But for some reason, I had been slacking. People have been sending me personal messages asking me why I don't write as much as before. I must admit, I have allowed for quite a number of experiences over the last several weeks that are worth blogging which I failed to write about.

Well, for one I have been learning a lot about the ancient art and science of quietness/silence.

An American lady walked into the room where some of the Bible college staff were having breakfast. She walkeds to the buffet table, scooped some rice, corned beef hash and scrambled eggs. She walked to the table across ours and asked, "What is this?" Jule, Bible college staffer answered, "Corned bits and potatoes!" With a puzzled look on the lady's face obviously trying to figure out what Jule meant I realized she needed more information. Good thing Jule realized she made a mistake and corrected herself right away: ""Corned Beef." The lady smiled and said, "This wouldn't be a typical Filipino breakfast, would it?" I answered, "No. Traditionally, Filipinos eat pan de sal (which is a simple kind of bread) and coffee to go with it; or dried fish and fried rice." She smiled at me and asked, "And where did you get your American accent?" "Oh, do I sound and speak like an American?" I asked.She answered, "Oh, yes you do.You certainly don't sound like anyone I've spoken with here in the Philippines!"

And that's how I met Nancy Irving, the General Secretary of the London-based Friends World Committee for Consultation, an organization that seeks to encourage fellowship among all the branches of the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers). Quakers are known for their love for and strong emphasis on listening to God in silence. In her devotional time in a recent retreat speaking on the Lord's Prayer, she led the congregation to a time of silent worship and listening to God.

Allison Siewert, worship leader and a known writer on the subject of worship leadership in the book Worship Team Handbook (which I read a couple of years ago) referred to worship as "God's party." I totally agree. It is His celebration- all that's said and done in worship is geared towards the recognition of who He is and what He's done. When we associate praise and worship with joyful noise and exhuberant music, nothing else comes close to such description other than a party. But silence? While silence in worship is not foreign to me, as a Baptist of the "contemporary worship" tribe, silence in worship is something most of my co-tribesmen isn't used to. In fact, we're afraid of silence. We call it "dead air." We loathe dead air in worship.But being led to a time of silence and listening was a rather refreshing time for me. You see, prior to the retreat, I was sick with flu (and am still recovering from it's effects) and thus, a majority of the days preceding that retreat were spent at home alone in silence which somehow prepared me for such.

I must admit, even my supposed "quiet times" with the Lord are noisy. Sometimes I do a lot of the talking and spend very little time listening. Even when I write my thoughts on my journal my mind races amidst noise in my head.

An hour ago I was reading the latest LEADERSHIP Journal in the library where there is an article by Bethel Seminary professor Chris Armstrong about Gregory the Great which included a section on the value of being a contemplative Christian in a post-modern, noisy world. Gregory wrote, "...turn away from distractions of knowing about things to the serious, even frightening task of reflection on the inner self."

It's interesting to note that quietness is a missing jewel in the larger evangelical community. It has to be rediscovered. Nowadays, we get scared of silence since a lot of times we associate it with loneliness, the dark, depression, or the lack of emotional and physical engagement. Imagine entering an old museum with an average level of excitement, within minutes you become awed by the sheer age, beauty, glory of the museum items. You discover later, after you’ve made your way back out that there have been people who have walked before you, and in a sense you are haunted with solemn counterpoint bringing necessary depth and breadth to understanding of your human experience.

While I do not intend to convert to Quakerism anytime, I know that Jesus valued what these people valued. He often withdrew to quiet places to be alone, listening, communing with the Father. Can that state of silent communion with the Spirit of God be achieved even in the middle of five thousand people gathered in worship? I think so.