In his autobiographical work, Word from Wormingford, a Parish Year, Ronald Blythe, an English poet and writer, comments on the quiet that people admire whenever they arrive in his part of Suffolk, England.
‘“How quiet it is!” say visitors to the old farm in the fold of land. They mean that I cannot hear the traffic, not that I am deaf to what is going on. How could I be these news-infested days? It was ever so, but in other circumstances. Bunyan from his cell heard a trumpeter blare curfew as the (River) Ouse bridge was closed (it would sound for Mr-Valiant-for-Truth on the other side); Julian from her cell heard the continuous rumble of the world as it entered Norwich via the Wensum. Just how much one should know by way of the News, or how little, is a religious question. A friend has just given his television set to a surprised caller. Is he a candidate for the (liturgical) calendar or for the (mental health) social services? He has turned the newscasters out, lock, stock and goodbye smiles, and is master of his own house. We should try it. It is a lay form of Trappism.’
I am not an enthusiast of Lenten abstention. My preference is to add something that enriches the day – like hand-written notes to people I have lost touch with, or even with whom I may have to make amends. However, I could do with spending more time with people like Mr. Blythe. Some people have shared that they are forgoing Facebook for the next forty days. I might need to pay it more attention. All of us probably echo the sentiments of “Noises off,” as Blythe also calls his lay form of Trappism, the monastic order which values silence and yet gave us the prolific writings of Thomas Merton.
It feels like a bad idea to switch off the news at a time when we, like John Bunyan, are in our day being challenged to be “Valiant-for-Truth.” And yet would we not benefit from creating the space for the gift of silence through which God chiefly speaks? During the Revival 2017, we have added a couple of “prayer stations,” along with those for renewing baptismal vows, or prayers for healing and discernment. One is a table stocked with journals to write in and a few aides for reflection and even conversation. The other is “prayer for a closer walk with God” which has given rise to as much engaging spiritual conversation as it has prayer.
We need periods of “Noises off” to regroup, to hear the sounds in silence that we have lost touch with, to listen to our own inner voices to which God also speaks. Remember that it was not in the wind or the earthquake that Elijah heard the Lord, but in the still small voice. In her sermon at a recent Revival, Kathleen Milligan reminded us of Abraham Lincoln’s words to General Grant at the end of the Civil War, when addressing the approach needed in dealing with those who were defeated. He said “let them up gently.” God desires to let us up gently from being beaten down by the busyness and frantic and yes, news-filled, character of our lives. That takes time, and quiet, and a willingness to be present. Lent is not a religious version of New Year resolutions. Its goal is too precious to be left in our hands. It is for the renewing of our minds and hearts, the rekindling of our love for God, neighbor and the joy and hope of this remarkable life, and the recharging of our world by that same love, joy and hope.
Have a holy and blessed Lent. See you, Brother and Sister Valiant-for Truth, when the trumpet of Risen Glory calls, forty days from now, on the other side.
In the peace and love of Christ,
+Alan
The Rt. Rev. Alan Scarfe, Bishop of Iowa
