Sermon: Proper 11 RCL B – “Come Away with Me”

Photo by Ante Hamersmit on Unsplash

Little Johnny got himself a drum for his birthday. It was one like the drummer boy in the infantry might have carried into battle, and Johnny loved his drum. He banged on the drum at home, and even worse; he would go up and down the neighborhood streets making all kinds of racket.  No amount of coaxing would get him to stop, and it was for lack of trying. 

One person told Johnny that he would if he continued to make so much noise, perforate his eardrums. This reasoning was too advanced for Johnny, who was neither a scientist nor a scholar.

A second person told Johnny that playing the drum was a special activity and should be carried out only on rare occasions. A third person offered the neighbors earplugs; a fourth gave Johnny a book; a fifth gave him meditation exercises to make him placid and docile. Nothing worked. Johnny banged away on his drum.

One day, Johnny’s grandpa came to town and wondered what all of the ruckus was about. He surveyed the situation, then went out to the garage. When he came back, he had a hammer and a chisel. He set them on the table in front of Johnny. As he turned to walk away, he said, “I wonder what’s on the inside of that drum?”

Grandpa was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize.

You are familiar with the story of Elijah, but for a refresher… Elijah showed the strength of the Lord and put to shame the 450 priests of Baal. When the people saw this, they had those priests put to death. When Jezebel, the wife of King Ahab, heard this, she became furious and sent word to Elijah, essentially saying, “I’m coming for you.” Fearing for his life, Elijah ran. Scripture says he “went a day’s journey into the wilderness and came and sat down under a broom tree. And he asked that he might die, saying, ‘It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers.’” (1 Kings 19:4)

Elijah worked tirelessly to convince and convert the people and the king to cease their worship of Baal and follow God. He had performed miracles. He had preached. For his efforts, he received a death sentence. He had done all that he knew to do and was tired, so he said to God, “I’m done. I don’t care anymore. Kill me and let me rest.” 

The drum of Elijah’s life had been pounding and pounding. He had no peace, which drove him to the point of not caring. Not caring for his own life and not really caring anymore about what God had called him to.

We are told that when Elijah reached this point, he had just quit, lay down under a tree, and gone to sleep. After a while, an angel of the Lord came to him, woke him up, and gave him something to eat. Then Elijah slept a bit more. And after another while, the angel of the Lord came to him again, fixed a meal, and woke Elijah, saying, “Arise and eat, for the journey is too great for you.” Elijah did and then continued on his journey to Mt. Horeb, where he would encounter God in the still, small voice. There’s a funny meme that’s made its way around the internet. It reads, “This is your gentle reminder that one time in the Bible, Elijah was like, ‘God, I’m so mad! I want to die!’ So God said, ‘Here’s some food. Why don’t you have a nap?’ So Elijah slept, ate, and decided things weren’t so bad.” The conclusion, “Never underestimate the spiritual power of a nap and a snack.” 

The angel of the Lord said to Elijah, “Arise and eat, for the journey is too great for you.” Through the angel, the messenger, the Lord said, “All that you’ve been through really is too much. I understand that, but I need you to continue in this work, so for a time, quiet the drum of your life and rest for a minute.”

Last week, we spoke about desiring God above all things and how God makes Himself available to us when we do. The Lord says, “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” (Jeremiah 29:13) The Psalmist writes, “The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.” (Psalm 145:18) However, there are times in our lives when the drum is beating so quickly and so loudly that we say, “I desire you Lord, but I don’t have the time to seek you. The banging of the drum of my life is so “loud” that I can’t shout above all the racket to call on You.” Like Elijah, the journey is too much for us, and we may reach a point where we love God, but we just can’t find the energy to care.

Thomas Merton writes, “We live in a state of constant semi-attention to the sound of voices, music, traffic, or the generalized noise of what goes on all the time around us. This keeps us immersed in a flood of racket and words… Resigned and indifferent, we share semiconsciously in the mindless mind of Muzak and radio commercial which pass for ‘reality.’” 

The beat of the drum becomes so loud that it drives out everything else and makes us indifferent to many things, including God. This is the “demon of acedia, [defined as] the restless spiritual boredom and disgust with existence that would lure one from prayer into ultimately dissatisfying distractions… and eventually away from God.” (The New Ressourcement, “Thomas Aquinas, the ‘Nones,’ and the ‘Dones’”)

When the beat of the drum, the Muzak, life, the journey becomes too much, the acedia sets in, and we shut down and may even shut off our connection to God. When it happened to Elijah, God said, “Here, have a cookie. Take a nap. Find some silence and rest for a bit. You’ll feel better and then be able to continue.” He did, and it worked. Jesus did the same thing with His disciples after they had been going strong.

We do not know how long they were gone, but prior to our Gospel reading today, we know that Jesus sent the disciples out, two-by-two, and “they went out and proclaimed that people should repent.  And they cast out many demons and anointed with oil many who were sick and healed them.” (Mark 6:12-13) Today’s Gospel begins with their return from this mission trip, and Jesus says to them, “‘Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.’ For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves.”

The Lord knew how loudly the drum had been beating in the disciples’ ears. He knew they were exhausted, so instead of allowing them to reach the used-up condition of Elijah, He said to them, “Come away to a quiet place with me. Let’s have a cookie, maybe take a nap, and ‘hang out’ for a while.” As with Elijah, who encountered God in the stillness of the mountain, the disciples were also able to have an encounter with Jesus in the stillness of that place. Sure, the crowds eventually find them, and they all have to go back to work, but for a time, like in the beginning, they were allowed to walk with God in the Garden—to be with one another and enjoy each other’s company and fellowship. In doing so, God was able to heal their weary bodies and souls.

When was the last time you just ‘hung out’ with God? When was the last time you went away to a quiet place and rested in Him? Jesus says, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28) This rest is a gift offered to us today—the gift of healing, renewal, and refreshment. Give yourself permission to stop. Grab a hammer and a chisel and go to work on that drum. Have a cookie, lie down in the green pasture beside the still waters, take a nap, and spend time being with God. By doing so, He will revive your soul. Like Elijah and the disciples, you can be renewed and then continue with the work He has set before you.

Edwina Gateley is a speaker and spiritual writer. She wrote the poem, Let Your God Love You. It makes for a beautiful prayer.

Let us pray: 

Be silent.
Be still.
Alone.
Empty
Before your God.
Say nothing.
Ask nothing.
Be silent.
Be still.
Let your God look upon you.
That is all.
God knows.
God understands.
God loves you
With an enormous love,
And only wants
To look upon you
With that love.
Quiet.
Still.
Be.

Let your God—
Love you.

(Psalms of a Laywoman, p.59)

Sermon: Advent 2 RCL C – “The Quiet”


Little Johnny got on the elevator in the Empire State Building in New York City with his father. They started going to the top. Little Johnny watched the signs flashing as they went by the floors: 10, 20, 30, 40, 50, 60, 70.

They kept going, and Johnny started getting nervous. He took his dad’s hand and said, “Dad, does God know we’re coming?”

New York City: O. Henry says, “It’ll be a great place if they ever finish it.” Christopher Morley referred to it as “the nations Thyroid gland” and Ralph Waldo Emerson, who did not care for the Big Apple, called it a “Sucked orange.” There are so many songs about it that it’s hard to pick just one, so I’ll go with Lou Reed: “New York City’s the place where they said, ‘Hey, babe, Take a walk on the wild side.’” The one description that resonated with me was given my Kurt Vonnegut. He called New York City, “Skyscraper National Park.”

As some of you are aware, this past week, I was a complete tourist in that particular national park. Rockefeller Christmas Tree to the Empire State Building and I know that I saw only a fraction of one percent that is offered. It is a mass of people, lights sounds, vehicles, buildings and assaulting smells. It is impossible to take in even one block without being awed.

My hotel was a block off time square and my room was on the 39th floor. From there I could see it all and what I discovered, even that high up, is that you could still hear the birds and other animals that roamed below in that Skyscraper National Park. Oh, yes. There was one bird that cried out all night {siren} and one particular animal that absolutely never stopped calling night or day {honk}. I could see the streets below and the river of cars never stopped flowing and the people… it may be a cliché, but it truly is a place that never sleeps. Will I go again? Absolutely. Would I live there? Absolutely not. Not a place that suits my nature. Why?

In our Saint’s Book Club, we’ve been reading The Hawk and the Dove. I took it with me and read the entire thing on the way home (it helped having a three hour delay in one of the airports). Truly a brilliant little book. I won’t spoil it, but it is about a mother telling her daughter stories about a monastery that existed some 700 years prior. At the end of one particular hectic and noisy day with her several children, the mother and her oldest are sitting by the fire having tea and mother says, “Peace. Oh, this is nice. It’s nice when you feel peaceful inside, and you can curl up by the fire in a peaceful house. Too much racket in the house and it frays you at the edges a bit….” I couldn’t live in New York City because I think it would be a bit like living in a house with too much racket and my nerves would be more than a bit frayed. I’m sure that it is something you eventually become accustomed to—or something that drives you crazy—but as it is, the Queen can at times get a bit too noisy for me. However, after speaking about a noisy house, mother goes on to say, “but if you lose the peace on the inside of you, you could be in the quietest place on earth and your nerves would still jangle.” And that’s just it, you could live in a vacuum, absent of all noise, and there would still be this great racket going on in your soul. Like New York City, the soul can become this overwhelming cacophony where there is no rest or peace. What are we to do?

There are those who will attempt to provide us with all sorts of escapes, all of which are costly in one way or another. I can run through a litany of them here, but you all know your “drug” of choice. That one thing you hope will give you some respite from the noise, but in the end, you know you’ll still end up with some variety of a hangover. Surprisingly, the answer doesn’t lie in adding something to our lives. The answer to the noise lies in setting it all aside.

In the words of Isaiah that were quoted in our Gospel, we are told that John was, “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness.” That immediately tells us that in order for our souls to clearly hear that calling voice, we must take the time to set aside the things of this world, we need to get out of the noise of the city and not only that, we need to get out of the noise of our own heads and enter into a place of quiet.

Brennan Manning, in The Ragamuffin Gospel said, “We must go out into a desert [a wilderness] of some kind,” and he says, “your backyard will do.” When the world is so loud on the exterior or in the interior, we must seek out those wilderness places of quiet. It is there that we can once again see the straight path that is laid before us. And it is there that the rough mountains of our lives are made low and the deep valleys are filled. As Manning would go onto say, when we enter the wilderness, that place where we can hear the voice of God calling to us, then we “come into a personal experience of the awesome love of God.” What is so beneficial is that this awesome love of God is not something that abandons us when leave the quiet, but instead goes with us as we re-enter the noise, and instead of feeling frayed, we maintain that peace that can come only from above. Like a fish that has to be returned to the water, we too have to return time and time again until we are fully perfected in Christ, but we can know that God’s love is inexhaustible and always available to us.

During this season of Advent, we celebrate the coming of our Lord and look with joyous anticipation towards his second coming, but do not forget that the Kingdom of God is now and that you have access to it if you will seek Him in the wilderness, in the quiet, where He can be found.

Let us pray:
Father of Heaven and earth,
hear our prayer and show us the way to peace.
Guide each effort of our lives
so that our faults and our sins
may not keep us from the peace You promised.
May the new life of grace You give us
through the Eucharist and prayer
make our love for You grow
and keep us in the joy of Your Kingdom.
Amen