Sit in the Quiet

“When you’ve been living in a space for a while, it can be hard to see the possibilities” (Myquillyn Smith, Cozy Minimalist Home).

I am currently under the tutelage of decorating guru, The Nester (aka Myquillyn Smith). My family moved into a new home last year. I lack the artistry and confidence to take steps toward decorating it, so Myquillyn’s Cozy Minimalist Community seemed like a wise investment.

One of Myquillyn’s Cozy Minimalist steps involves removing everything from a room except the largest pieces. She writes, “Each item in your room has a voice and adds to the chorus of the room. The more stuff you put in a room, the louder it gets. We often don’t even notice the visual roar our rooms create until we make them quiet.”

Quiet the room. Take it down to the bare bones and sit in it. Listen to the room speak without the constant chatter of all the stuff.

It’s hard to imagine a room without some of the bric-à-brac I’ve packed and unpacked over eight moves. My eyes are adjusting to their absence, and the results are well worth the discomfort.

March 2020 felt like a “quiet the room” moment. The roar of school, work, social life, and church quieted. Many of our lives were taken down to the bare bones. We were forced to sit in the stillness.

As my spiritual eyes adjusted to the quiet, I began to undergo a transformation. The old ways that seemed so critical lessened in importance. Of all the changes the pandemic forced on me, quiet Sundays altered me the most.

For the last four decades, my Sunday mornings were set aside for church services. Over the years, the style changed from hymnals and fire-and-brimstone preaching to a worship concert followed by a seminar-style sermon.

My participation level increased until Sunday became less about a church service and more about serving the church. On any given Sunday, you could find me rocking babies, teaching Bible studies, and making lattes for the laity at a hipster café in the worship center lobby.

It felt good to be essential to the church industrial complex–until the definition of essential changed.

Throughout the pandemic, I remained essential in my Monday-through-Friday healthcare job. On Sundays, however, all of the roles that previously kept me busy were removed. Like Myquillyn’s quiet room, I ended up with a quiet Sunday.

We often don’t notice the spiritual roar we create on Sunday until we make it quiet.

Sunday was taken down to the bare bones. Family, prayer, the Eucharist, and God’s Word. These practices became primary while all the excess faded away. Left with the main things—the true, good, and lovely things—my view of the church changed. It’s still changing.

Just like my bare walls and empty mantel helped me see what my room needed, quiet Sundays helped me see Christ’s church with more clarity. All the programming and serving were noises distracting me from the teachings of Jesus. The Sermon on the Mount, the Lord’s Prayer, bread and wine, and the resurrection got left behind in the busyness of Sunday morning.

Not all church experiences will be the same as mine. Christ’s church has many seats at the table, and we all come with different personalities, pain, gifts, and needs. If you made it through the quarantine with your faith and church membership intact, I count it a blessing. I am at the table with you, choosing to sit in the quiet a bit longer as I process my own church experiences with hope for what is being rebuilt in me and around me.

Jesus, we thank you for establishing your church and calling us to be a member. Help us to honor you within the walls of our churches. May we not try to contain you within those walls. Let us, your church, honor you by building longer tables and inviting strangers and neighbors alike to join us. Amen.

Scripture for Reflection

It was very early in the morning and still dark. Jesus got up and left the house. He went to a place where he could be alone. There he prayed. Simon and his friends went to look for Jesus. When they found him, they called out, “Everyone is looking for you!” Jesus replied, “Let’s go somewhere else. I want to go to the nearby towns. I must preach there also. That is why I have come.” So he traveled all around Galilee. He preached in their synagogues. He also drove out demons. (Mark 1:35-39 NIRV)

The Lord said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. (1 Kings 19:11-13 NIV)

Reach for More

Consider Myquillyn’s wise words: “When you’ve been living in a space for a while, it can be hard to see the possibilities.” What did you hear during the quiet of quarantine Sundays? Are there practices or traditions you need to add or remove to honor Jesus within his church?

Kelly Smith is a small town girl who married a small town man. They have three children. In the quiet minutes of her day, you will find her at the keyboard or curled up with a book–always with coffee. Kelly believes we are created for community and loves to find ways to connect with other women who are walking in the shadow of the cross. She blogs at mrsdisciple.com.

Photograph © Jelezniac Bianca, used with permission