Why Solitude Is Not Passive

The Discipline of Solitude, Part 2

Last Thursday, I described the way that solitude establishes a place for us outside of the world and its pressures, a vantage point from which we can see the world’s prizes, dreams, hopes, and obsessions for what they are. To keep the world from squeezing us into its mold, we must be able to step outside of the world’s embrace. Solitude creates the space for us to do that.

It also offers a way, by faith, for us to build our priorities into our schedules. Setting aside time for solitude begs the question: Do I believe that if I begin my day with God, regardless of other things competing for my time, he is able to provide me all the time I need to take care of the important things? Can the universe can operate without my help for a few minutes each day? My answer to both questions, reinforced by many years of experience, is ‘yes.’

Periodically going on a retreat for some extended time of solitude and prayer is a good practice, but it is not possible for many of us. Last week, I encouraged you to consider devoting consistent time to solitude each day. For many years, I have begun my days with what many call a “quiet time.” I have generally been the first to rise in my household, so mornings are a good time for me to seek solitude.

Each morning, I do my best to close out the world for forty minutes or so, while I read my Bible and pray.

But this description makes my practice sound more formulaic than it is. The time doesn’t always fall neatly into two segments in which I first read from the Bible and then pray. As I read, I seek to concentrate on the “living and active” Word, with the confidence that God will speak to me through what I read. I think of myself as interacting with the text, not simply reading it.

As many times as I have read through the Bible, I can still read well-remembered passages and be challenged by aspects of their meaning that I never fully grasped before. Sometimes, a recent experience enables me to read words in a new light.

When that happens, I may remember the way another translation treats a verse or phrase, then do an impromptu study to look more closely at what is being said. I may simply stop reading to ponder the passage I’ve just read.

At other times as I read, I am struck by some aspect of God’s greatness or His goodness to me, and I put down my Bible to reflect or to worship.

Often, what I read reminds me of someone, maybe a friend or family member who’s facing a challenge or a need, and then I’ll pray for them with words from the scripture that speak to their situation. I’ve found that when I share with them in a letter, text, or phone call how that verse brought them to mind, it’s often meaningful and encouraging to them.

In the books I’ve read on spiritual disciplines, these practices are often described as discrete activities – study, meditation, worship, praise, thanksgiving, intercession. They can all be practiced in that way, and I sometimes do exactly that. However, in my experience, Bible reading, prayer, meditation, and intercession often are blended as I practice a time of solitude. After all, if the Bible is God’s Word, then it is his communication to us. Accordingly, when I am reading, I try always to be prepared for the possibility that he will use his Word to teach me or to prompt me to act. There are many times when the passage of scripture I happened to read on a particular morning spoke directly to an issue that I have been wrestling with.

Photo by Mel Tiago on Unsplash

To share one example out of many, recently I was working through contentious and protracted negotiations with someone who had been a long-time colleague, and whom I considered a friend. One weekend morning, during a time when tensions were at their peak, my daily Bible reading brought me to the Sermon on the Mount. As I read the Beatitudes, I came to “Blessed are the peacemakers” (Mt. 5:9), and the verse seemed to shout for my attention. I stopped, reflected, and prayed for a long time. I realized that I needed to act as peacemaker with my old friend. As I prayed for my friend and sought to look at the situation through his eyes, I realized that he was beset by fear and need, and these personal pressures kept him from negotiating in a fair-minded way. (This is another experience I’ve often had: when I pray for someone, God deepens my ability to sympathize with them.)

I saw that I needed to put my rights aside and do everything I could so that my friend could walk away from the negotiation contentedly. There was sacrifice involved; I made some concessions that were not fully fair to me. But God spoke to me about this point also; as I was praying one morning a few weeks later, I reflected that my financial wellbeing comes from him alone. If, seeking to be obedient, I gave up something that left me short of what I needed, he was able to replenish it. I concluded that God was speaking to me through that verse in my quiet time that morning, and that he wanted me to obey his voice and trust him to provide for my needs.

As you can see, as I pray each morning, I do so meditatively. When praying for a personal need or a challenge I’m facing, I don’t simply ask for what I want. I try to step back as I view the situation, asking whether what I want is rooted in love or in selfishness, and whether it’s best for the other people who may be affected by the outcome.

In the same way, when I pray for people in my life, I don’t merely read from a list of needs; I ponder their situation and talk to God about them. Thinking about friends, family members, and co-workers in this way often brings to mind some way in which I can be useful. As a result, sometimes the answers to prayer that I receive are the outcome of an action that I am prompted to take. Over the years, I’ve come to see how much of prayer’s value comes not from God intervening in a situation, but from God changing me and my perspective, and then prompting me to act in response.

The practice of solitude over the years has given me the emotional and perceptual distance to respond this way. I am not naturally a kind or generous or sensitive person. If any of those qualities are evidenced in my life it is because God has developed them in me.

Getting started with this practice can be challenging. Next week I plan to share some things I’ve learned about how to begin a practice of solitude and how to keep it going.