Be Still And Know

Psalm 130:1-2 NLT  'From the depths of despair, O Lord, I call for your help. Hear my cry, O Lord. Pay attention to my prayer.' There are times when I ask some uncomfortable questions. The advantage of such thoughts is that they hijack any attempt to navigate life through superficiality. While I may at times get by in life, I’m only really surviving, not flourishing. At such moments, where do I turn?  If I turn in on myself, which is the strongest of temptations, I find little relief from my anguish and confusion. For all I find is what I already know. If, however, I will make the attempt to look towards God, then I stand a chance of finding some crumbs of encouragement which may, much as they did Hansel and Gretel, lead me away from my lostness.   The fact is that the sense of despair is internal. It’s rooted in my current mood-induced perspective. It isn’t real. In one way I am always a physical expression of my prayer and my utterance reflects my life. I’m invited to acknowledge that God both hears and res

Psalm 119:102-104 NLT  'I haven’t turned away from your regulations, for you have taught me well. How sweet your words taste to me; they are sweeter than honey. Your commandments give me understanding; no wonder I hate every false way of life.' During the spring, as I was weeding a border in the Oratory garden, I became aware of the buzzing of a bee. Bees work continuously to collect pollen from flowering plants, one reason for ensuring gardens are filled with flowers from early spring into early winter. However, today was unusual for I consistently heard the buzzing of bees. Pausing to take a refreshment break, I stepped into the shed to remove my wellingtons and heard it. Later that day, I heard the buzzing again and eventually located a bee on some blossoms next door. I watched the methodical way in which it entered every flower to collect as much pollen as possible. I could see it building up around the bee’s legs. Returning to my task, I lifted a forkful of weed-laden earth and out fell a white-tailed be

Matthew 7:17-19 NLT  'A good tree produces good fruit, and a bad tree produces bad fruit. A good tree can’t produce bad fruit, and a bad tree can’t produce good fruit. So every tree that does not produce good fruit is chopped down and thrown into the fire.' Working on the garden continually reminds me that everything in nature is connected in some way. The cuttings from the mower provide a useful mulch that nourishes the grass. They also draw down the birds. Each morning as I gaze out upon the lawn, I draw pleasure from its patterned finish, reflect on the work required to produce that finish, and recall the thoughts that God woke within me as I walked up and down, mowing. These thoughts are the fruit of my desire to encounter God. I assume I’d have missed them, had I neglected to create space for God in my day.   It is often difficult to make time for God. It’s not just the demands life places upon us but, as many discovered this year, it is our own hard-wiring that is difficult to manage. We like being busy

Isaiah 29:5 NLT  'But suddenly, your ruthless enemies will be crushed like the finest of dust. Your many attackers will be driven away like chaff before the wind.' Last autumn, when the leaves fell, bad weather stopped me clearing them, which meant a lot of work when spring arrived – eight hours of it. As I scarified the lawn, I reflected how this process matched my own walk with God. Looking out across the grass, you would never assume that a large part of the greenery was in fact damaging the lawn, preventing new growth, suffocating good grass and creating a spongy, water-retaining membrane which encouraged the garden to flood in heavy rain. I compared this with my own life. Apparently ordered and subject to God’s leadership, in fact mixed in with the good was an ever-increasing amount of debris, easy to ignore.   Effective, practical discipleship demands I closely scrutinise my life, my behaviours and my thought patterns. It’s all too easy for me to become drawn into life, and fail to see how I drift towar

Matthew 13:29-30 NLT  “No,” he replied, “you’ll uproot the wheat if you do. Let both grow together until the harvest. Then I will tell the harvesters to sort out the weeds, tie them into bundles, and burn them, and to put the wheat in the barn.” Last autumn and winter, Jayne and I couldn’t get out into the Oratory garden, because of the bad weather. We had extended a flower border over the summer and we knew that the weeds would fight back. When the good weather returned in March, our fears were confirmed.   Weeding was not simply a matter of digging and lifting unwelcome grasses. I often had to lift a whole plant in order to extricate it from the weeds, which seemed to establish themselves in the very heart, making it difficult not to destroy the plant with the weed. The clearing work took three weeks, and I considered what I might learn from it.   The reflection proved helpful. Too often I look to God to change my behaviours and habits, aspects of my life that I feel control me. How lovely if a simple praye

Matthew 6:25-26 NLT  'That is why I tell you not to worry about everyday life – whether you have enough food and drink, or enough clothes to wear. Isn’t life more than food, and your body more than clothing? Look at the birds.' It has been a difficult and turbulent time for all of us over recent months. Many have spoken with me of their anxiety and fear. My Zoom account has been well used with many conversations and the opportunity to pray together. It’s a recognition that the familiarity of an ordered life provides some encouragement in disordered times.   One morning, gazing out of the window across the Oratory garden, I observed the birds busy on the feeders. Oblivious of the challenge of Covid-19, they simply went about their business. Soon the garden would fill with fledglings, still dependent upon their parents to feed them. I was reminded of Jesus’ words: “Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him

Psalm 40:1-2 NLT  'I waited patiently for the Lord to help me, and he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along.'  Pressing the pause button to create a genuine space within which to reflect is of great benefit. I love the way scripture tells us that Jesus’ mother, Mary, from the annunciation onward, pondered all the unusual interruptions in her life in her heart (Luke 2:19).   Another useful practice commended by David Steindl-Rast, is to pause between the end of the day and climbing into bed. Use that pause to review the day, stop and reflect. Sometimes I find the day has rushed past me. Did my day have hold of me, or did I have hold of my day?  I bought a hand mower for the lawn. I remember with pleasure pushing my dad’s old mower to cut the lawn at home. Even then I found the gentle sound of the drive chain and the swish of the cutting blades strangely comforting. I unpacked and assem

Colossians 4:5-6 NLT  'Live wisely among those who are not believers, and make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be gracious and attractive so that you will have the right response for everyone.' What is your first response, when something goes wrong? Is it for you and your family, or for others? When we face crises of any sort, usually our first thought is to worry about our own welfare and that of those we love the most. It’s a reminder of the fractured world we live in, into which Jesus brought the message of others first.   So, recalling the question: ‘Isn’t this surprising?’, we then ask ourselves a second question: “What’s the opportunity here?” This immediately slows our need for an instant response. We press the pause button and consider our circumstances in greater detail. This pause is a wonderful opportunity to consider our options. As scripture says, it is the fertile ground from which wisdom springs forth.  While the pause button is pressed, I can consider my situation from dee

Ephesians 5:15-17 NLT  'So be careful how you live. Don’t live like fools, but like those who are wise. Make the most of every opportunity in these evil days. Don’t act thoughtlessly, but understand what the Lord wants you to do.' Opportunity is the possibility of doing something. We need to know what it is, but unless we take that opportunity, nothing will happen. Often, we prefer to give away decision-making to others, especially when the decisions appear difficult.   I’ve made two decisions, at different times, to start a business with a friend. Both times I decided to spend and proceed. On both occasions, the business didn’t give me any return on my investment. Do I regret the decisions I took? No! I knew the risks, and I learned priceless lessons from the failures. Fresh opportunities emerged; equally fraught with the possibility for future failure, yet also with potential success.  In a society infatuated with risk management, we can become reluctant decision-takers, fearing the potential dangers. This

Deuteronomy 4:29 NLT  'But from there you will search again for the Lord your God. And if you search for him with all your heart and soul, you will find him.' My walk with God can be like a game of hide-and-seek. God never disguises or hides from us, of course: instead, feeling embarrassed about meeting God, I can choose, as Adam and Eve did, to hide. Or I ignore God until I come to my senses or so miss God’s warm embrace that I confess to whatever is keeping me from him.   So often I am caught up in the moment, or the project I’m pursuing, that while I may be committed to God, I’m not conscious of his presence. The Benedictine monk David Steindl-Rast suggests we ask ourselves, at least twice a day, the simple question: “Isn’t this surprising?” Its purpose is to awaken us to seek God’s presence within all that consumes our immediate attention.  The question provokes us to find God in life. It reminds me I am already redeemed and invited to live life through God’s kingdom lens. Rast states that we may not like

Mark 4:37-38 NLT  But soon a fierce storm came up. High waves were breaking into the boat, and it began to fill with water. Jesus was sleeping at the back of the boat with his head on a cushion. The disciples woke him up, shouting, “Teacher, don’t you care that we’re going to drown?” How often do I sleepwalk through my days, failing to look for, let alone seek my Lord and saviour, in the circumstances of my life? So often the very monotony of life’s rhythm drowns out both the voice and presence of God. Yet God is present with me in every moment of every day.   Despite the scientists advising governments that every century they might expect three pandemics, when Covid-19 arrived, none of us was ready. The suddenness and seriousness of its arrival shocked every nation. In the UK, despite a long-prepared pandemic plan, politicians scrambled to find policies that might limit the spread and impact of the virus.  Much like the disciples, we realise we have a problem and then are surprised, if not offended, that Chr

Psalm 92:15 NLT  They will declare, “The Lord is just! He is my rock! There is no evil in him!” Who do you blame, when things go wrong? And why do we feel we need to do so? Non-Christians often say that God, if he exists, can only be evil, because of life’s tragic moments. For evil is the antithesis of the good, and what good God could countenance evil? This, however, still leaves the problem of who to blame for the unpalatable aspects of life. If, as the psalmist claims, there is no evil in God, then how might we account for the troubles we experience and see around the world?   And what about the evil we find in ourselves? All of us have evil thoughts. These usually seek to ensure our own benefit at the expense of another. So we can conclude evil is not some external force but one that exercises influence from within every person. Some give in to its charms, hence the repeated crimes across society. For me, evil’s the residue of my wilfulness; a wilfulness that seeks to stray from God. I lie, I cheat, I mis

Psalm 92:14 NLT  'Even in old age they will still produce fruit; they will remain vital and green.' Are we planning on being productive, as we get older? Or will we become risk-averse, building defences around us, to keep going? This can mean that we become fruitless, at that stage of life when we have accumulated a tremendous amount of knowledge about the ways of God.  When I was growing up, we had a very fruitful Victoria plum tree in our garden. Every year we took a family holiday at the end of August, but I yearned to return home. One of the excitements was to run into the garden, and my favourite task was to gather the plums. One year, I rushed into the garden but, to my horror, there was no fruit. Had we been robbed? No. Future years revealed it had finished fruiting. Mum and Dad kept the tree, for it still blossomed, yet that blossom no longer yielded a harvest. How many of us have stories of great exploits from our past, yet no longer produce fruit? Of course our faith blossoms and we come into leaf,

Psalm 92:13 NLT  'For they are transplanted to the Lord’s own house. They flourish in the courts of our God.' A desert Father once visited fourth-century priest and monk Abba Moses, in search of enlightenment. Abba Moses simply said to him: “Go, sit in your cell, and your cell will teach you everything.” When the government took the step to move the UK into lockdown in an attempt to slow the spread of Covid-19, it felt very much as if we were all being told to return to our cell. The jury was out on what this would teach us.  I had the joy of spending more time in the Oratory. We have a lovely garden and the spring sunshine accompanied this prime ministerial edict. My only challenge was that all my retreats and other face-to-face work ended suddenly. So I’d need to focus upon God for my welfare.  However, while the law restricted us to bricks and mortar, I’ve learned that Abba Moses’ original injunction was neither spatial nor material. Each one of us is a temple of the Holy Spirit. We can find the house of G

Psalm 92:12 NLT  'But the godly will flourish like palm trees and grow strong like the cedars of Lebanon.' I have on my desk a wonderful photograph of a large, aged tree flourishing within a barren landscape. It is a Cedar of Lebanon growing within its Lebanese homeland. Perched on a rock escarpment it defies nature, and dwarfs all other vegetation surrounding it. It offers me a powerful reminder that I can both survive and flourish in an inhospitable landscape. The Cedar of Lebanon is a slow-growing tree and takes years to reach its full height. This reminds me that we mature very slowly in God. That life is a marathon. God wants us to run the race “with perseverance” (Hebrews 12:1).  I was once a cross-country runner. I ran for my school and to win the race, I had to pace myself. There were obstacles along the route: five-barred gates and streams. I needed a strategy to ensure I stood some chance of finishing among the leading runners. On one occasion, when competing on unfamiliar territory, some ‘home supp

Psalm 92:11 NLT  'My eyes have seen the downfall of my enemies; my ears have heard the defeat of my wicked opponents.' Within our Christian context it is perhaps difficult to acknowledge our enemies. For we are constrained by Christ to love our enemies. Here in the UK we are also taught to conceal our real feelings. Social interactions can easily be built upon insincerity. After a while we lose our ability to distinguish between what’s genuine and what’s false.   Most often we personify the word ‘enemy’. I find that I react to another person and contest what they say and who they are. They annoy me and I respond. Yet my primary enemies, as far as my walk of faith is concerned, are not other people but the internal tormentors that seek to breach the walls of my confidence in God. This provides the traffic noise that continually rumbles through my thought life. It serves one purpose: to distract me from my first love for God and divert my energies.   In reality, all such tormentors have already known defeat thr

Isaiah 61:3 NLT  'To all who mourn in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the Lord has planted for his own glory.' Holding on to our faith when we face difficulties is hard. It is a wonder that we still encounter the beauty and presence of God even as our heart breaks. Anyone who has faced the challenge of chronic or terminal illness or the death of a loved one, will know just how physical the effects of such an experience are. Each moment carries a reality unknown previously and the act of living becomes exhausting.  I naturally want to find someone to blame, to pour out the internal angst and pain. Yet, my experience is shared by thousands. I’m invited to step beyond my despair and search for the oil of mercy that will eventually bring healing to my wounds. This is only available from God, often the person I want to hold responsible for my extreme pain. God can ha

Luke 10:33-34 NLT  'Then a despised Samaritan came along, and when he saw the man, he felt compassion for him. Going over to him, the Samaritan soothed his wounds with olive oil and wine and bandaged them. Then he put the man on his own donkey and took him to an inn, where he took care of him.' Compassion is to feel pity for someone else. It means to experience similar emotions as the sufferer does, to suffer alongside them. And here the Samaritan, with little thought for his own safety, is moved by compassion and tends the wounds of the man beaten by robbers with olive oil, the symbol of healing and mercy.   When the coronavirus arrived there was palpable panic across the nation. But we cannot eradicate the element of risk from our lives. Sometimes the process of seeking to limit risk comes at the cost of practical social support for one another. While I can always present a case why I cannot get involved, as is clear from the priest and the Temple assistant who passed the Samaritan by, in God’s kingdom ‘the

Genesis 8:10-11 NLT  'After waiting another seven days, Noah released the dove again. This time the dove returned to him in the evening with a fresh olive leaf in its beak. Then Noah knew that the floodwaters were almost gone.' How did Noah feel when he knew the floodwaters were almost gone? Was he hopeful, or afraid? Earlier this year, as the coronavirus took hold, many people found themselves confined to cruise ships. What had no doubt been a dream holiday rapidly turned into a nightmare. Their ship, marketed as luxurious living, became a prison from which they might not escape. As Noah gazed out upon the endless waters surrounding the ark, I imagine he felt marooned and uncertain how God’s purpose might work out. He must have been delighted to receive the olive branch carried back by the dove, a sign of hope that judgement was past.   The olive tree is remarkable. It is robust and long-living, with an average lifespan of 800 years. It grows well in very poor soil and can withstand drought, and is a sign of

Luke 18:13 NLT  But the tax collector stood at a distance and dared not even lift his eyes to heaven as he prayed. Instead, he beat his chest in sorrow, saying, “O God, be merciful to me, for I am a sinner.” In a number of liturgies the words, Kyrie eleieson, Christe eleison are said following the congregational prayer of confession. The words are Greek for: “Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.” They are the words used by the tax collector, contrasted with the self-righteous Pharisee.   Mercy is always undeserved. In one story handed down to us we discover a mother pleading with Napoleon Bonaparte to spare her condemned son’s life. The emperor declared that the man’s crime was so awful that justice demanded his life, the mother asked for mercy, and the answer was that the son did not deserve mercy. His mother then pointed out that if he deserved it, it would not then be mercy.   The tax collector understood his need for God. There was no merit he might muster from his life that could be offered up in return f