God's Inside and Outside Voice

Inside voice

Quiet

“For whatever reason, God never seems to shout when trying to get my attention. God always uses his ‘inside voice,’ as my mother used to call it. Shouting, calling, crying out, and throwing people off their horses is great stuff, but that’s not how I hear God. I hear God in a whisper; in a look; in a turn of the head; in a subtle expression on a face.”—Br. James Koester, Brother, Give Us a Word, Society of Saint John the Evangelist, Daily Email, SSJE.org, friends@ssje.org

The irony is that, as we read in SSJE about God speaking to us in God’s inside voice, I am practicing preaching with all my might in my outside voice. My voice is soft. It is a legacy from my soft-spoken father. It is a blessing and a curse. It is a blessing, as I talk to people and can more easily relate to them as a softer listener.

But when I stand in the pulpit to preach the word of God or speak out to a group, I have always had difficulty projecting that message, even with suitable amplification. My husband always sits in the back of any congregation or meeting, giving me signs to increase my volume. I spent years working with a fantastic speech pathologist, but I still have to push my voice. If someone has a hearing impairment, they may especially have difficulty hearing me.

My former rector took me on as a project to increase my volume. He let me read prayers outside at a burial office as an “audition” to see if I had an outside voice. After that, I think he gave up on me! Recently, I preached at a church without amplification. I felt as if I were shouting the entire time.

So, what is the point of all this regarding our relationship with God? First, I have become acutely aware of what an inside voice sounds like and the volume of my outside voice. My connection to God comes through an inside voice, quietly slipping in. But we often hear these soft messages when we least suspect God, usually in interruptions in our daily routine.

God seems to speak most clearly in Advent in an inside voice, while the world shouts more than ever in an outside voice mode.

I wonder, however, if God also speaks to us at times with an outside voice, and we may never hear it because we expect only the quiet inside connection.

Does God’s outside voice also speak at unexpected times by the least expected people we rarely listen to or don’t even want to listen to?

For the present, my best experience with God’s outside voice is in my dreams. Eventually, my dreams become louder, more memorable, and messier if I ignore them.

Joanna https://www.joannaseibert.com/

The Longest Night

The Longest Night

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:5)

            Guest Writer: Paula Franck

The contrast between light and darkness is a familiar theme in spiritual life – especially during Advent and Christmas. Darkness represents sin, ignorance, and the absence of God, whereas light calls forth life-giving images of God’s glorious presence. In the Gospel of John, Jesus proclaims, “I am the light of the world.” (Jn 8:12).

However, there is a natural rhythm of light and darkness, night and day, and, as Barbara Brown Taylor explains in Learning to Walk in the Dark (HarperOne, 2014), much we can learn from the dark. “Darkness is shorthand for anything that scares me – either because I am sure I do not have the resources to survive or because I do not want to find out. If I had my way, I would eliminate everything from chronic back pain to the fear of the devil from my life and the lives of those I love. At least, I think I would.

The problem is this: when, despite all my best efforts, the lights have gone off in my life, plunging me into the kind of darkness that turns my knees to water, I have not died. The monsters have not dragged me out of bed and taken me back to their lair. Instead, I have learned things in the dark that I could never have learned in the light, things that have saved my life over and over again, so that there is only one logical conclusion. I need darkness as much as I need light.”

Much happens in the dark. In Genesis, “darkness covered the face of the deep” (1:2) until God separated the light from the dark. Seeds germinate underground; babies grow in the darkness of the womb; the Resurrection happened in the darkness before sunrise on Easter morning. Thus, no matter how dark circumstances in our lives may seem, there is the potential for new life to spring forth out of that darkness. Madeline L’Engle reminds us: “Maybe you have to know the darkness before you can appreciate the light.”

December 21 is the Winter Solstice – the longest night of the year and the beginning of winter. But just when we experience the darkest night, the days once again begin to become longer. This rebirth of the sun has been celebrated since ancient times across cultures worldwide. On the Julian calendar, the winter solstice was always observed on December 25. Thus, the early Christian church chose that date to commemorate the birth of God’s son, who would be a “light to the world.”

Thus, in all life circumstances, we can rely on the promise inherent in the Incarnation: “In him, there is no darkness at all. The night and the day are both alike.” (Hymnbook 1982, The Church Pension Fund, 1985).

Paula Franck

Longest Night Service

Saint Mark’s observed a special healing Holy Eucharist last night on Saturday, December 20th, at 6:00 p.m., for all those who are experiencing grief, suffering from mental or physical illnesses, or are simply less than jolly around Christmas.

Joanna. joannaseibert.com

Learning to Walk in the Dark

Learning to Walk in the Dark BBT

“Our light bulbs have burned out, and the fixtures are hanging from the ceiling by a bare wire. Before we get more artificial light, see if there is a message in the dark. God has done some of his best work in the dark, including resurrection.” Barbara Brown Taylor, Festival of Homiletics, Nashville 2013, from Learning to Walk in the Dark.

 I have learned so much from Barbara Brown Taylor. I read her first book of sermons on the gospel of Matthew, The Seeds of Heaven, in a book group in the 1980s. She magnetized all of us by her use of words and her intimate gospel message. She taught me how to be a narrative preacher, seeing God at work in the stories of the Bible, and how these stories are true in our lives. I attended every conference she led for years about preaching and writing, especially at the College of Preachers at the National Cathedral and Kanuga. I have read almost everything she has published that I could get my hands on. In recent years, she has taught me to see God in the world, to embrace pluralism, to see God in people of other faiths, and to see God in the dark.

Finally, she has taught me to be me, not a Barbara Brown Taylor copy, but to find my own voice and be the person God created me to be. Likewise, as spiritual friends, it is our job to help each other become the person God created us to be, not what we think our parents, children, or spouses want us to be, not even the person we most admire. However, a person we admire may give us a clue to qualities hidden within us, part of the person God created us to be. We are called daily to thank people like Barbara Brown Taylor for this insight.

The darkness of Advent, with shorter sunlight, and the darkness of those pandemic times taught us much about being the person God created us to be.

The days are shorter.

We are starkly aware of the possibility of a short life.

Now is the time to take off the masks we have worn for so many years and become the true selves God created us to be.

Joanna   joannaseibert.com  https://www.joannaseibert.com/