Rhythm 1: Solitude

These next few weeks, as we end the school year and prepare for the Summer, I want to spend some time looking at our spiritual practices. From now through June, we’re going to slow down and work through 7 rhythmic spiritual practices, or, as we’re titling it, Sacred Rhythms, after this really great book by Ruth Haley Barton. For many years, I’ve been wondering at how we can embrace a different kind of sacred rhythm to our days that pushes against the frenetic, jump-higher-run-faster, achievement and burnout cycle that our culture places such high value on.

When we are called by Jesus, he promises us that we can come, follow him, and learn, as Eugene Peterson put it, the unforced rhythms of grace. Our lives are designed by our creator to be lived in rhythm, in movement, in dynamic push and pull that includes times of great action and times of focused rest. Rhythms of grace. Sacred Rhythms.

In the coming weeks, we’ll look at the rhythm of reading Scripture, Prayer, Embodiment Practices, Self-Examination, Discernment, and Sabbath keeping. Each of these rhythms of spiritual practice orient us back to that good way of Jesus, the easy yoke and joyous journey into the heart of God.

As we begin, I wonder: how do you understand your spiritual practice? Is there something in particular you do to keep a rhythm of prayer and connection with God? Your weekly worship rhythm, here, now? What about as you go through your days? Practices, when we keep them consistently, become habits and these habits train us, orient our hearts, unto God’s love.

We have cultural practices, cultural rhythms that vie for our attention, our loves. Rituals we use to mark our day. How many of you woke up this morning and sat, even for just a few moments, quietly with a cup of coffee or tea? Did you go sit in your favorite chair? Did you slow down to sip the cup with a bit more focus than you might normally during the week as you rush around, taking care of the business of life? Well, if you did, consider how this ritual sets the intention and direction for the rest of your day.

You see, we all practice things, engage in rhythms, throughout our lives. The spiritual masters, the ones who have spent time contemplating this journey and training themselves in sacred rhythms, they are the ones who figure out this important key: practicing sacred rhythms must be done in connection with our lived reality. This cultural practice of coffee in the morning is a perfect opportunity for this example: To draw near to God in prayer as we savor the cup. To be reminded of our breath and God’s breath, interwoven, animating our lives. Sacred Practices situate within the daily lives we live. They’re meant to. Because, and here’s the key: in the mundane, everyday parts of us, there is the spark of God’s life. We practice remembering this so that we can see God in the here and now, not just in a worship service setting or in a holy place or in a time of intense prayer. We practice Sacred rhythms in order to see God in our daily lives, together.

So…our first sacred rhythm, well…it might be a little surprising to begin here, but our first Sacred Rhythm is Solitude. Solitude. Time spent alone, but in the presence of God. Time away from others, but near to ourselves and the still small voice of Christ within us.

Let’s look at a quick passage from very early in Jesus’ ministry. Jesus, from the beginning of his teaching journey, models the practice of Solitude for his disciples. He goes away, spends time alone, praying and settling and listening for God’s leading. Hear Mark 1:35-39

Mark 1:35–39 NRSV

In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. And Simon and his companions hunted for him. When they found him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.” He answered, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.” And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.

Early on in his ministry, Jesus recognizes the need to “take a minute,” as we would say.

This story falls right in the midst of Jesus calling his first disciples, gathering up pieces of his movement, journeying around the towns of Galilee to preach the good news and heal people. Jesus isn’t winding down, he’s ramping up. The work is speeding up. And yet, Jesus makes it a priority to get away and be alone.

Now, the competing cultural rhythm here is, during a time of ramping up, to burn the midnight oil. Up until the last couple of years, at least, workaholic culture seems to have been on the rise. Get the hours in, work from home, check your emails first thing when you get up, respond immediately, show up to every meeting, get involved with all the projects, achieve, achieve, achieve!

Maybe that isn’t your lived reality. But for so many of us, the messages we get, particularly as we push into our careers and build our lives, is to run fast, jump high, show up.

But Jesus seems to know something different. In the context of a growing revolutionary movement, Jesus becomes scarce. Our Scripture says that Simon and his friends “hunted” for Jesus. Not just searched, but hunted. There’s definitely anxiety and expediency wrapped up in that word, right? Where is this guy, we need his attention?

Jesus practiced the Sacred Rhythm of Solitude repeatedly through his ministry life. He got away.

Let’s hear another reading, this time from the end of Jesus’ ministry. Once again, the Jesus movement was reaching it’s pinnacle. They had gathered near Jerusalem to participate in the Passover. We’ve all heard this time, Holy Week, described as a powderkeg, ready to explode. The atmosphere is tense. We know the religious leaders are plotting to kill Jesus. He should have been buckling down, planning their next steps. Can you picture a leader standing at a table with maps and lists and plans, surrounded by his followers, as he points and gives directions? This was go time.

But what does Jesus do? He goes out into the garden to prayer. Hear this passage from Luke,

Luke 22:39–46 NRSV

He came out and went, as was his custom, to the Mount of Olives; and the disciples followed him. When he reached the place, he said to them, “Pray that you may not come into the time of trial.” Then he withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, knelt down, and prayed, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done.” Then an angel from heaven appeared to him and gave him strength. In his anguish he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down on the ground. When he got up from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping because of grief, and he said to them, “Why are you sleeping? Get up and pray that you may not come into the time of trial.”

The disciples have the idea: They’re exhausted. Like I just described, the movement is reaching it’s zenith, it’s time for things to happen. And they disciples, like any good followers, have been dedicated to following Jesus wherever he goes. But given this brief opportunity, they don’t seek solitude with God, they actually just want to sneak some shut eye.

Again, just like the time of ramping up, and now with this time working in the final push, the cultural value we would say matters here is the ability to stick it out, show up, be ready. No sleeping in the foxhole, just preparing. But Jesus does something different — he finds solitude to pray and be with God.

Here’s the kicker about this Sacred Rhythm: In Solitude, we quiet our frantic, pitter-patter hearts…and simply learn to be. To be. To listen to the quiet voice in our hearts, the voice of God. To listen to the wind in the trees, to notice the way the light hits the water. Alone, but not really even alone, because we are with ourselves and with the Divine. But in Solitude, we break out of the pattern of activity and connection so that we can gain perspective, seek wisdom, and find God’s voice.

We know we need this, even if we aren’t that great at seeking it out.

I think of my parents, my Mom in particular, sitting quietly by herself in the early morning with coffee and a devotional. I think of one of my dear mentors, who for years and years made it a priority to take a solo camping trip every summer. I think of my Dad, who loves to take his walking stick and wander the perimeter of his property by himself, listening to the leaves, watching for creatures. I think of my roommate in college, who we used to make fun of because he would hole up in his room while we were all out playing and having fun, because he needed to recharge.

We need times of solitude.

Solitude helps us remember who we are.

Solitude helps us remember who we belong to.

Solitude can remind us what is important and what doesn’t really matter.

Solitude is not always even about prayer or rest or learning. Solitude can simply be about being.

I haven’t used this word yet, but all we’ve been considering this morning in the sacred rhythm of solitude is also related to something deep within our spiritual journey — this is about contemplation.

The ancient church fathers and mothers knew that solitude was needed to contemplate and hear God, so they ran out into the desert to pray, to be alone, to seek solitude to commune with God.

Jesus does this, when he goes into the wilderness to be tested. John the Baptist does this, living in the wilderness. The Hebrew prophets were frequent seekers of solitude. We can go back through the Scriptures and see numerous more examples where our ancestors in the faith sought solitude and silence to find God. Moses out tending the sheep, finding the burning bush. Abraham, communing with God, being promised a family. Jacob, wrestling in the desert and staring up at the stars, finding a new name in a time of solitude and reflection.

A couple of years into my time here, I remember a really important time of practicing solitude. I think it was early December. The Session was in the midst of pulling together and working with our upcoming year’s budget. There had been some tense conversations and I had felt extremely anxious in my still-new role as moderator of our elders and as a pastor who was still a little green. It was a Monday, a day after another of these important and fairly stressful Session meetings. I knew I needed to not go into the office, but instead needed to get outside, alone, to process.

So, that morning, after dropping Asher off at preschool, I laced up my trail shoes and drove out to the Chuckanut trailhead. Beginning to climb through Arroyo Park, I ran up the ridge trail for miles, all the way to the summit at Cleator Rd. I often run with music in my ears, but this time, I knew I needed to let my head and heart be clear to process and pray in silence. Up and back, it was a good run. I remember descending that spiny ridge trail, not necessarily feeling any sense of divine revelation or spiritual release, but just the simple peace of stepping away and collecting myself, with Christ. I was probably out on the trail for about 3 hours, some parts walked, some parts run, all of it a time of reflection and centering in solitude with Christ.

I tell this story because the sacred rhythm of solitude does not always yield dramatic results, but rather is about us tuning in to what is good and true around us. Especially in times of struggle or tension, times of solitude can be a healing balm and calming gift.

Before I close, this morning, I want to offer a disclaimer: We, as a society, are lonely people. The Centers for Disease Control released a convicting report on what they call our loneliness epidemic. We are more isolated than ever, especially after the COVID shutdowns. Obviously, solitude isn’t a remedy for this. And especially if you are feeling despair or even considering harming yourself, you need to get support and presence, not more solitude. Or perhaps you live alone and adding more time alone has no appeal to you. You’re craving connection, and rightly so.

To both of those scenarios, I simply want to say, as with any of these kinds of spiritual practices and sacred rhythms — take what you need, leave what you don’t. We’re simply exploring various ways we can train our hearts to be more in tune with God and solitude is one of those ways.

With that said, it is important we consider when and where and how we are practicing solitude, so that we can make intentional times to “be” with God and with ourself. Maybe it’s a long drive or a slow meal out at your favorite restaurant. Maybe its a walk through Whatcom Falls Park or sitting by the bay, observing the comings and goings from a distance.

I wonder where you find solitude. I wonder where you feel drawn to seek it out. I wonder if you can step back from your life, even for a moment, to gain perspective and see what God is doing amidst all your own comings and goings.

The invitation is that this week, could you find time for solitude? Maybe even just 20 minutes? Like, set a timer and go out for a 20 minute walk. Or step into the guest room, not to nap, but to simply breathe and reconnect with God. Where do you find this sacred solitude?

In all of this, we trust that our spiritual practices, these sacred rhythms, are actually gifts from God. They are blessings that when we engage with them, they tune us, train us, mold us, form us, unto God’s way. May we embrace a moment of solitude and in closing, remember God’s call from Psalm 46: Be Still and Know that I am God.

Amen.