First off, the man who collapsed on Thursday is sitting up and eating, and knows nothing about Thursday beyond suddenly feeling a bit funny. Sincere compliments to the GP's, the ambulance crew and the staff of the local hospital for doing what they do best.
Today the service was taken by someone who has been described as one of the most influential speakers in the Church of Scotland. At least that is what his mum tells him. Today there were two acts of worship, but I'm counting them together as I did both of them. Fieldside is a rural congregation, small in number on a Sunday morning, but with a great spiritual warmth. And their social evenings just can't be beaten.
Lane End is on the edge of two towns, that through expansion have merged into one. It's what Mrs Gerbil and I would describe as our home church, even if we only visit occasionally. It's good to come back occasionally as the people are great, and the downside of this ministry thing is that we do miss seeing them.
Last Sunday I emailed my minister and asked if I could have a shot at doing a service, just to keep my hand in. No problems, he replied. how about the 18th? No problems said I, not realising the week would conspire against me. So the lesson for the week is that, I'm going to be a Minister of Word and Sacrament. And whatever happens, the Word has to go out at 9.30 and 11.00 on the Sunday. Time management is essential.
I tried something new today. Actually it was "borrowed" from Highland Cathedral, but it worked there. I had a quiet hymn, sitting down, followed by a minute of silence. This lead into the prayers of intercession and I asked the congregation to use it to reflect on events in their lives and in the lives of those around them. I had warned the organists beforehand of my plans and asked them to use quiet voices when they played the hymns.
For the readings I selected five short verses to use, but I gave the readers a script to read from, so they didn't have to spend ages looking up pages in the lectern bible.
The feedback at the door at Lane End was positive, and not just from those trying to be polite. There was no feedback at the door at Fieldside, as tea is served in the side aisle, so nobody leaves immediately. A short pause at the door, then I went and got my brew as well. Feedback is better with a cuppa in your hand.
But there was something different today. I preached at both congregations the week before my selection, but this time it just felt like i was actually meant to be there. I wasn't just spot from the Worship Group, or spottheprojectionist, I am trainee spotthereverendgerbil. Now that's an odd feeling.
The sermon, for those interested is below. I have to write my sermons out in full, even though I will only use it as a guide when I'm talking. This is very much the rough cut. The gospel readings this is based on are:
Matthew 4:1-2
Luke 6:12-13
Matthew 14:23
Luke 5:15-16
Matthew 26:36
Sermon
[After the previous hymn, insert painfully long silent pause here]
There’s something just unsettling about unexpected silence. I was wondering how long I could keep silent?
I’ve got no plans for the afternoon, does anyone fancy forming a silent order?
The thing about modern life is, it’s so noisy. Even taking a pause in church this morning, the traffic is still going by outside. In my office, I have two computers on my desk, ancient machines that have massive cooling fans. There is a background roar in my office as 120 machines drone on. Yet, when people have gone home, and everything is shut down, the office feels alien, abnormal.
And it seems like everyone today is wearing headphones, replacing the outside noise for their own personal soundtrack. How often do you experience genuine, peaceful quiet? And when you do, how does it make you feel? Do you need to have the radio on in the background. Do we need to block out the noise of the world with more noise?
A couple of years ago, the BBC showed a programme where a Benedictine Monk, Father Cristopher Jamieson, took a group of ordinary people, some religious, some not, through a process to introduce a bit of silence in their lives. The culmination of the series was an eight day silent retreat where the participants had only a mentor to talk to. The rest of the time was spent in silence.
One of the participants, the owner of two successful businesses said that he had been all over the world and tried many things but he had never found fulfilment. He seemed to struggle early on, but towards the end of his stay, silence just seemed so right for him. In his own words:
“It’s now a friend, rather than a foe. But it’s really difficult to explain that to people, cause you have to go there. It’s like, you can’t explain bungee jumping or parachuting or anything like that. You have to do it. If you watch someone who is going to parachute for the first time, they are terrified, and then afterwards they are exhilarated, and silence has been a bit like that for me.”
This morning I picked out a selection of readings from the New Testament. I’m not trying to play biblical tricks, and I’m not picking readings out of context to elaborate an obscure point. I could have selected a few more of a similar nature. The bible is clear that, before Jesus started his ministry, before he made the decision about which of the disciples became apostles, throughout his entire ministry, and before he went to his death, Jesus took time to retreat on his own. He sought his space to listen to God. Even God’s son, needs time alone to take stock of events and pray to God.
If the phone rings, you switch off the radio to answer the call. You remove the distractions to hear the message. So how do you get rid of your distractions. Where is your space? Where do you go to listen to God? When is your quiet time?
Well I try to have a quiet time.
I’m writing this late on Thursday night. Mrs Gerbil has gone to her bed, and this is my time. My bit of quiet, reflective time. Normally at this time, I’m reading, catching up on the news, or some of the online diaries I read. Or I’ll switch the whole lot off and just have some totally quiet time. But tonight, I’ve had a really rough day. Something has happened today that has left me a bit shaken up. I just don’t want quiet. I’ve got some music playing in the background because the quiet is just too loud. There’s a time for silence, but there’s also a time when I need AC/DC cranked up to eleven.
Complete silence isn’t for everyone, and for those that do seek it out, it’s not what you want all the time.
When we enter into periods of silence, we start to see things with greater clarity. We come to know ourselves, and get in touch with the deepest part of ourselves. That is our soul.
But where is God in all of this. Well this is from the first book of Kings, where Elijah is off in the wilderness.
“There he went into a cave to spend the night.
Suddenly the Lord spoke to him, “Elijah, what are you doing here?”
He answered, “Lord God Almighty, I have always served you—you alone. But the people of Israel have broken their covenant with you, torn down your altars, and killed all your prophets. I am the only one left—and they are trying to kill me!”
“Go out and stand before me on top of the mountain,” the Lord said to him. Then the Lord passed by and sent a furious wind that split the hills and shattered the rocks—but the Lord was not in the wind. The wind stopped blowing, and then there was an earthquake—but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake there was a fire—but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the soft whisper of a voice.
Not in the furious earth shattering wind.
Not in the earthquake.
Not in the fire.
But in the still small quiet voice.
The quiet voice.
So find your space. Find your quiet. Say “here I am Lord.” And listen. Listen carefully, because god is whispering to you.
Because silence is the gateway to the soul, and the soul is the gateway to God.
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