2013-12-24
Psalm 8, Matthew 11:25-26, 28-30
"Quiet, God"
Matthew 11
25 At that time Jesus said, 'I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; 26yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. 27All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.
28 'Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.30For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.'
Shhhh.
Quiet.
"T'was the night before Christmas, and all through the church, not a cell phone was ringing, no Google to search."
Quiet.
"The cattle are lowing, the poor baby wakes, but Little Lord Jesus, no crying he makes."
Quiet.
When there's quiet, we notice what we normally overlook.
When there's quiet, we feel the air in our lungs.
We hear our own heartbeat pulsing in our ears.
"The moon on the crest of the new fallen snow, gives the luster of midday to objects below…"
Quiet. Makes the unheard louder.
Quiet. Makes the unnoticed visible.
Quiet. Makes our heartbeats echo, makes each breath mean more.
—
In chapter 11 of the Gospel According to Matthew, after he's all grown up, Jesus is having a bad day.
For a baby who made no crying, the grown-up Jesus gets fussy pretty fast.
He gets especially irritated at loud religious people who should know better.
After going off on a brief but divine rant about people and cities who are never quiet, who refuse to listen, he sends up a prayer of exasperation.
If you listen to his words, you can almost hear him sighing.
"I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the "wise" and the "intelligent."
How does Jesus know these people are wise and intelligent?
Because they tell everybody.
Same as smarty-pants people do now.
And those people who think they know everything really annoy those of us who do.
Between the aggressively obnoxious and the silently snarky, we live with a lot of noise.
Background noise, foreground noise, noise in our ears, noise right up in our faces.
There's not much holy quiet to our days or silent to our nights.
We're too wise and intelligent and opinionated and connected to be quiet.
Jesus said, "I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will….
And then he goes on to add:
"Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.
"Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls…."
"I am gentle and humble in heart."
How do you know if your heart is gentle and humble, if you never have enough quiet to hear it?
"I am gentle and humble in heart."
Jesus is describing himself, but he's also describing God.
Do you ever think of God - Great and Glorious God of heaven and earth and suns and stars - do you think of this Great God as being gentle and humble, the source of quiet and rest for your soul?
In thinking of God, Creator of All, we make God so big, so busy, swirling up galaxies, generating power and light, roaring in Big Bangs and interstellar collisions.
God is so big.
Big equals loud.
Loud equals busy.
Busy equals productive,
productive equals creative,
equals useful, equals good.
At least, that's the way people who are "wise" and "intelligent" appear to take it.
Loud and proud and productive.
Just like God.
This annoys Jesus.
Jesus rejoices that God is quiet.
Jesus rejoices that God is gentle.
Jesus rejoices that God is humble in heart.
---
The mother of a newborn watches her baby breathe.
She holds its cheek next to hers and feels its breath across her face, hears it in her ear.
She feels its heartbeat against her chest.
She breathes in, she tastes the holiness of new life in the silence she shares with her child.
Others might see from a distance, but the noise of living blows them back from the miracle of the quiet.
God is quiet.
God is humble.
God does not shout glory.
God is glory.
God is life and love revealed to infants, revealed in an infant, alive in the mystery of the silence where a child can hear two hearts.
---
The choir sings, "Dona Nobis Pacem,"
Grant us peace.
Grant us rest.
Grant us calm for our weary, burdened souls in a moment of holy quiet.
Grant us escape from busy minds that never shut down, lists that never end, phones that won't stop ringing,
lives that churn in the opposite of quiet: wise and intelligent, but so tired.
"Dona Nobis Pacem."
Grant us peace.
—
In Psalm 8, the writer stares up at the same night sky that held a star that led shepherds and kings with soft-spoken care.
"When I look at your heavens," the writer says, "the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established; what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?"
In the stillness of a holy night, we stand surrounded by the same lights of infinity,
the fingerprints of a God so vast and yet so gentle and humble in heart that his only cry is for his children.
"Out of the mouths of babes and infants" - out of the mouth of one child - comes the Word that becomes flesh and dwells among us,
not as one wise and intelligent, but humble, and holy, and still.
Your breath, your heartbeat, your steps upon the earth…
your touch, your love…
are no less than the echoes of a silent creator…
who gives birth to peace in troubled hearts,
who brings forth hope in hectic minds,
who promises rest to all who are weary from heavy burdens.
This is God.
This is the Creator of the stars of night.
This God's way.
Quiet. ------
Shhhh.
Listen.
Listen to your heart.
Listen for God.
