Lenten Reflection for April 2 - Quiet

I was spiritually born and nurtured in the Black Church tradition. The denomination was the CME branch of the Methodist Church. CME, Christian Methodist Episcopal, is quite similar to the more familiar AME, African Methodist Episcopal, Church. While I'm sure there are historic and theological differences between the two, for me, the boundaries were blurred. The only difference I observed was one church said “A-men” and the other said “Ah-men.” Both, however, offered rich oratory, jubilant music, and the call and response worship style often associated with the Black Church.

Before reading the chapter on quiet as part of Black Spirituality, I believed the words “quiet" and “Black Church” were diametrically opposed. I’ve come to realize quiet, like prayer, comes in various forms. No two are alike.

The Sunday worship of my youth often began with the verse from Habakkuk 2:20: “The Lord is in His holy temple. Let all the earth be silent before him." This moment allowed for the quieting of minds and the opening of hearts. Be silent before him. Be silent. Be. The restlessness subsided. Earnest worship could begin.

Between the service's beginning and end, I recall lively sermons, emotional singing, and many a boisterous exhortation. As a youth, I believed this “noise” interfered with my ability to hear, praise, and appropriately worship God. Now, as an adult of a certain vintage, I realize the opposite is true. Quiet can be a place of limited distraction, as well as a state of mind. Those 1 1/2 -2 hours spent worshipping God in that manner provided both a place where distraction was limited, as well as a familiar pathway to spiritual fulfillment.

My paternal grandmother, Ms. Emma, would often hum as she went about her chores. The tunes were mostly gospel songs and hymns. I asked why she always hummed religious songs. She told me she was praying. I didn't understand at the time. I always thought one had to be on one’s knees and use words like “thee,” “thou,” “thine,” and “beseech.” My grandmother showed me that “it ain't necessarily so.” Humming both limited the distractions surrounding her, namely me, and opened her heart and spirit to receive God in whatever way God appeared. No matter how arduous or menial the task, at its conclusion, there would often be a wry smile on Ms. Emma's face. I thought it was because she had completed her task and that may have been so. I also believe she had communicated with her God in song and silent prayer and her God had replied.

Tarry Awhile reminds me, again, of the breadth and depth of Black Spirituality. In a manner of speaking, it has been my Emmaus moment. That is, I didn't truly recognize the quiet moments of Black Church worship when I was experiencing them. Within its pulse and expressiveness, there is also room for quiet reflection and meditation. And in that quiet space, some of the most honest dialogue with God can occur. In the quiet, God sees us at our most vulnerable and unvarnished. No matter the language or tradition, God will find us where we are.

1. A priest in this diocese told me that, periodically, one must find a quiet place, outdoors preferably, turn one's palms to the sky, and ask: What are you trying to teach me God, what am I to learn? And listen with heart, mind, and spirit. Where do you go to find a quiet place to listen to God? Is there a particular time of day you favor going to that quiet place?

2. Over the years, I have adopted various practices to “Be still and know that I am God.” How do you quiet your mind and body? Is doing so part of your daily practice or routine? If not, why not?

3. Quietness can be both calming and intimidating. It took me some time and effort to appreciate and embrace quiet time. How do you experience quietness? How has the quiet intimidated you or brought you calm?

Keith Davis is an active member of St John The Evangelist Episcopal Church in St Paul, MN. Keith serves as a Verger, Eucharistic Minister, Lector, Lay Pastoral Caregiver, as well several committees, including Liturgy and Invite Welcome Connect.