Third Sunday of Lent
Receive: Open to Illumination
"The desert fathers and mothers understood what many have forgotten: silence is not the absence of sound but the presence of God."
— Barbara Holmes
Barbara Holmes, contemplative theologian and scholar of African American spirituality, invites us into a radical understanding of silence—not as emptiness, but as encounter.
The first weekend I worked at St. Mary's Sewanee, there was a centering prayer retreat. It felt like the perfect time for me to participate in a St. Mary's Sewanee tradition that has shaped and sustained the retreat center for decades. So, I packed a bag, checked into a room in Anna House, and found a seat in the circle for three days. I did pretty well for the first 24 hours of silence and sitting for meditation. But then distractions crept in.
Why hadn't the kitchen staff opened the doors for lunch yet?
Should I get the door mat that had blown off the porch and onto the bluff?
Surely it would be okay to break the silence and greet Sophie when she arrived for her shift on Saturday morning.
In the silence, it was not that God was absent; it was that I was. I had arrived at the center of the labyrinth, but I hadn't arrived at all.
That weekend, I hoped to journey to the heart of God. I hoped to rest and receive holy illumination for my life and the commitment I had just made to St. Mary's Sewanee. However, I was still carrying all that I could have released at the beginning of the retreat.
Remember, just two weeks ago, when we imagined what it would mean to turn away from others' expectations and listen for the still small voice of the genuine? Remember how we imagined putting down our burdens and opening our hands to receive? How quickly our intention can slip. How persistently the voices of the world call to us. How sneaky these responsibilities are, climbing into back pockets to travel with us when we thought we left them behind.
The desert mothers and fathers understood what many have forgotten. They understood what I forgot in 24 hours. And they gently call us back to the silence, to the presence of God waiting for us there.
Practice: Opening to Illumination
This week, you find yourself at the center of the labyrinth, at the heart of God.
Take time to notice the distractions that always pull your attention. Are you a parent, juggling multiple schedules, tasks, and carpools? Are you elderly or facing a health challenge that means doctors' visits, low energy, or pain? Are you working full-time or seeking work that requires time and attention? Notice and name your distractions without judgment. These are not failures; they are the reality of being human and beloved. Even give thanks for the people and opportunities in your life, like a new and exciting job that makes it almost impossible to sit still.
Then repeat your intention. Or realize you actually need a more realistic one. If you are still unsure, consider how you would complete the sentence, "I am open to…"
Cupping your hands in front of your heart, imagine yourself receiving exactly what you need. It may not be what you expected. It may be simpler, or stranger, or more challenging. Receive it anyway.
