One of the special gifts that Dallas gave me was the space to ask him questions. The first time I asked whether I could raise some questions with him, he responded with his typical generosity. We set one whole evening aside and sat together in our living room. I had with me a yellow pad to write down his responses to my long list of prepared questions. These ranged from theological issues that had come up for me, ethical dilemmas around some of the political issues facing us in South Africa at that dark time in our history, and the more practical concerns of what it meant to follow Jesus in the nitty-gritty of daily life.
Looking back on that evening now, I realize that my opening question was designed to impress him a bit. I asked him if he would provide me with a reading list of the most formative books that he had read. I recall how the conversation unfolded.
“I suggest you read Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John” was his reply.
Somewhat disappointed by this response, I told him, “Okay, I have got that down. Are there any other books you can recommend that I read?”
This time he was more emphatic in his response. “My suggestion is that you take the next twenty years or so to read and meditate on these four Gospels. Read them repeatedly, immerse yourself in the words and deeds of Jesus, and commit to memory as much as you are able.”
This is simple advice for the Christian journey. Many of us think that the truly transformative literature is found outside the Bible. There is much to be gained from reading broadly within the Christian tradition, its theology, history, and spiritual writings. But there is no substitute for the Bible itself, and particularly the accounts of Jesus found in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.
Read them. Study them. Meditate on them. Invite Jesus to meet you through them. The writings will teach you. But look for more than information. The writings will move you. But look for more than inspiration. Open yourself to God as you read. It’s intimacy and encounter that you want. That’s what brings the possibility of change and transformation.
We must bear our crosses; self is the greatest of them; we are not entirely rid of it until we can tolerate ourselves as simply and patiently as we do our neighbor.
If we die in part every day of our lives, we shall have but little to do on the last.
What we so much dread in the future will cause us no fear when it comes, if we do not suffer its terrors to be exaggerated by the restless anxieties of self-love.
Bear with yourself, and consent in all lowliness to be supported by your neighbor.
O how utterly will these little daily deaths destroy the power of the final dying!
It’s the daily dying that gets me. It can be so unpleasant! And it is much easier to think of our crosses as something external to us, like an illness, or physical suffering, or a person who annoys us or gives us trouble, than it is to think of our greatest cross as the one thing we have with us no matter what we suffer and no matter where we go: ourselves.
But François Fénelon is correct. If we die to ourselves each day, all that will be left is the small, final step from physical death to the fuller, more complete experience of eternal life that is had when a person in Christ passes from the earthly to the heavenly realm.
The little, daily deaths are worth dying. Learning to die them is part and parcel of the spiritual journey. The school in which we learn to die them is the school of Jesus Christ, who not only calls us to this kind of cross bearing, but who preceded us on the way.
So often we try to convey or communicate the character and work of God to others by stepping up the noise and the activity; and yet for God to communicate who and what God is, God needs our silence.
We need persuaders and prophets raising their voices and pricking our consciences and pointing the way.
And yet we need something else, too. God calls for our attention, and one way to give it is through silence.
Rowan Williams is right to observe that Christians frequently work very hard to proclaim the message and move the masses, to persuade and preach the gospel, to call people toward repentance and the good deeds that accompany it.
He is also right to remind us that if we are to truly encounter God, if we are to learn who and what God is, we need to stop, silence our mouths, still our souls, rest, and pay attention. We need to turn toward God so that we can be transformed by God.
I think one way to avoid God’s communication is to fill our lives with noise. This is true in both the secular and religious realms. I think a major source of our modern spiritual poverty is due to the lack of quiet spaces, places, and people. I don’t know if God “needs” our silence. I do think God invites us into silence, because we need God. Silence is the means to the encounter. The end is God.
In silence we discover our need of God. In silence we discover we have needs only God can address, murmuring underneath the surface, distorting our vision, disrupting our peace, dividing our communities, diminishing our souls–though treatable with divine aid. In silence we attend to God, and God attends to us. We encounter God as God is. And we encounter ourselves. God helps us see what we’d otherwise miss or deny. False ideas of God are exposed, and true knowledge of God is revealed.
In silence we communicate with God. More importantly, God communicates with us. There is time for preaching and for action, and there is much work to be done. God sends us out. But we must not neglect silence. We must not neglect the invitation to be still. God gathers us in. We enter God’s presence. We quiet our souls. We receive. We are restored. We are renewed.
When God sends us out again, we’re better messengers, servants, and ambassadors. We’re better equipped to glorify God, because in silence, we have beheld God’s glory.
The answer to that question was no, but the archivist did find a bulletin from April 17, 1927, showing that Loys Arnold had been received for and baptized the week prior. There is a mark showing where his name appears under those baptized, but his name appears in the previous section, too. Search for it. You’ll see it.
The other two pages above are also from the church bulletin. Though it is blurry in this image, you can see that the home address and phone number of Pastor George W. Truett are listed, as is the contact information for other members of the church staff, including the pastor’s assistant, secretary, and the directors of youth and children’s ministries. What a time to be in ministry. You’ll also see the church’s “Invitation,” which reads:
To all who mourn and need comfort To all who are weary and need rest To all who are friendless and wish friendship To all who are homeless and wish sheltering love To all who pray and to all who do not, but ought To all who sin and need a Savior, and to whosoever will This church opens wide the door and makes free a place, And in the name of Jesus, the Lord, says
WELCOME
I like these words quite a lot, and I wonder how they struck Loys Arnold. Notice, these people do not claim to speak for themselves. They claim to speak for Jesus Christ.
I’m also impressed by the fact that the church’s weekly meetings are headlined, “The King’s Business.” Makes you think a little differently about what you are doing when you attend a Sunday school, go to worship, or join with a group or fellowship. The title puts you in a different frame of mind.
The church continues to be about the business of King Jesus. It is good, joyous, worthwhile, challenging, and everlasting work.
I work on a university campus. It is a beautiful place. I’m thankful for the opportunities to leave my office, walk the grounds, and be surrounded by beauty. There are green spaces and trees, fountains and memorials, the sound of bells chiming the hour, birds, squirrels, cultivated gardens. I also have memories. I completed my undergraduate degree here. My parents and other members of my extended family attended this school. I have a connection to the history. I enjoy my time on campus.
One of the things I notice when I walk the campus is the number of people, mainly students, who walk with their cell phone in hand. If they are not walking, they are standing. When a line forms at the entrance to a cafeteria, for example, most people are gazing at their smartphone. I see far more people with a smartphone in their hand than I see walking with others, talking, or just walking by themselves, hands free and eyes forward.
The smartphone keeps many people captive to digital distraction, whether it be through social media, streaming video, or text communication. I see headphones and earbuds, too, which allow people to consume music, podcasts, audio books, and the like while on the go.
This isn’t all bad. But I do wonder what it is doing to our capacity to think deeply and experience our world more fully, to be present to the creation, to God, others, and ourselves. I’m concerned. I’m concerned for what it might mean for the soul.
It is very difficult to stop any habit through white knuckling, bearing down and trying to quit by sheer force of will. Even if you wanted to stop looking at your phone, once you are habituated to it, it’s tough to break away.
It is easier to change if you understand habit loops, which move from cue to routine to reward, and make a change that brings you to a more desirable outcome. The cues will keep coming. When you notice the cue, you change the routine. The reward, or outcome, is then something better than what you would have received by following the old routine.
We reach for our smartphones because our brains are looking for something to do. We get bored. That feeling of boredom, that restlessness, is our cue. Notifications and feeds alleviate our boredom through a steady stream of stimulation. Scrolling and checking becomes our routine. When there is something new, we have a reward. Even when there is not something new, we have the reward of knowing we have not “missed” anything. It’s a shallow reward, a fleeting reward, but it is a reward nonetheless.
Alternatives to Distraction: Christian Spiritual Disciplines
What could be more meaningful?
Is there a better reward on offer, one that could be received through a new routine, leading to a richer and fuller experience of life?
I work at a Christian university. I think the Christian faith offers wisdom that can help us avoid distraction and grow in our relationship with God. How is that wisdom received? From God, through the Christian spiritual disciplines.
The Christian spiritual disciplines offer several alternatives to digital distraction. Rather than stare at a smart phone, here are five Christian spiritual disciplines you can try to better connect with God, others, and what is taking place within your soul.
1. Contemplation
The Christian discipline of contemplation helps us to wake up to the presence of God in all things, and can be done by practicing God’s presence. We seek to truly see and gaze on life as it is experienced, leading us to be more sensitive to God’s revelation. We are also actively led to resist our compulsion to know and do everything, instead resting content as God’s beloved. This discipline can be entered through simple prayer. Instead of gazing down at a smartphone, leave it in your pocket. Place your hands together in a the traditional posture of prayer. Hold your eyes level and say, “God, help me be attentive to all things, and to you.”
2. Retreat
The Christian discipline of retreat involves both short and extended periods of time for quiet companionship with and listening to God. A university campus is a place of study and activity. It is also a place with spaces to sit, listen, watch, and rest. After disengaging with a class and its content, find a moment to be still, with the phone away. Ask God to be with you in your thoughts. Notice your feelings. Jot down your insights. Receive grace. Rest in God.
3. Unplugging
The Christian discipline of unplugging is less known. It meets a modern challenge. If you have trouble looking at your phone, turn it off. Stow it in a backpack, rather than in your pocket. If you have a ten minute walk from class to your apartment, use this time to be fully present to God and those around you. Smile at those you see. Say hello to those you know. Notice your surroundings. It will feel uncomfortable, at first. When you power your phone back on, you can respond to any calls or text messages you may have missed. And maybe you’ll do so a little differently, because you have spent a few minutes being attentive to God.
4. Mindfulness/Attentiveness
The Christian discipline of mindfulness or attentivenessgrounds us firmly in the present moment. When practicing this discipline we are fully alert to God. We pay attention to what we’re thinking, feeling, and experiencing, and consider these thoughts, emotions, and experiences with God. We breath more deeply. We turn over our worries and anxieties. We savor God’s gifts. You may have heard of this discipline, though not as a Christian practice. What’s the Christian difference? We do it with the Triune God as our focus and end.
5. Silence
The Christian discipline of silence is not only about refraining from speaking. It is a way of actively engaging with God by forsaking noise and distraction. Adele Calhoun writes, “Silence is a regenerative practice of attending to and listening to God in quiet, without interruption and noise. Silence provides freedom from speaking as well as from listening to words or music. (Reading is also listening to words.)” Silence is received. We enter silence. We actively open our ears, eyes, hearts, and minds to God. We wait. Our smartphones keep us from entering silence. Rather than scrolling, choose silence.
I could have named the discipline of walking without your phone or the discipline of walking without earbuds. The spiritual disciplines involve disengagement and engagement. It isn’t enough to stop looking at our smartphones. That’s a great beginning. But we’re called to shift our gaze elsewhere, paying attention to God and the ways God is present and active in and around us.
This list is just a beginning. What other Christian spiritual disciplines could be used to combat digital distraction? What could result?
