silence.
We went to Dunham again last week to learn about spiritual disciplines from a guy named Jeff Pratt. He’s part of “Axiom New Monastic Community” in New Haven, Connecticut. Right now there’s an arts and music themed DTS finishing their lecture phase in Dunham. Some pretty cool folk from all over. Australia to Barbados to Denmark. Impressive. I brought my saxophone and we jammed. I hadn’t played like that in a long time. Just let go. My lips were rubber by the end.
At first, the lectures seemed alright, nothing to special. Jeff knew how to speak, but almost too well, you know? It felt practiced. And I’m not a big fan of sentimental stories. But as the week went on, I noticed there was something behind all that. I haven’t really started any of the spiritual disciplines he spoke about very seriously. I try to read my Bible every morning during and/or after breakfast, but it only happens half the time. And although I do pray, it’s not something I’ve scheduled into my life. I only pray when I feel like it. There’s definitely no discipline to it. And that’s only two out of the ten that Jeff brought up. Fellowship I think I’ve got down alright. I know how to fellowship with people. But things like fasting and meditation, I simply don’t do. It just never comes to my attention. Jeff definitely helped me see the lack of discipline in my life.
After a week of talking about all that, along with some stories from Jeff’s crazy life, we had a silent retreat. Jeff explained what that meant on Friday evening and on Saturday we went at it. From about 10 to 5 in the afternoon, no one spoke. Jeff gave us some questions and ideas to run with, and we all found our own spots on the enormous property YWAMDunham owns. At first I thought of finding some place on a fire escape or the roof, but I didn’t want to be seen by anyone. I didn’t want to be “the guy on the roof,” that was distracting someone. Plus, from those high places, there’s a lot to look at and get distracted from. So I walked around the building. I saw the wood shack (Dunham is heated by a huge wood-burning furnace), and thought it would be funny to sit in there. I haven’t read the book “the Shack,” and don’t really plan on it. I have an immediate aversion to popular books. Except for “Blue Like Jazz” maybe. I liked that one. But popular fiction just doesn’t really interest me. I realize that that is a a gigantic generalization, but I don’t really care. They’re just stories.
But anyway, I sat down in the shack. It was way too distracting in there. For one, the log I sat on tipped constantly. And I could smell and hear the kitchen. And then people started walking by. So I left. Earlier I had a picture in my head of a perfect spot across the road in the forest, so I went to look for it. There were so many people in the forest. I had to cross two creeks and got my shoes all muddy before I finally found a spot where I couldn’t see anyone. I came to a waste-high stone wall and as I stepped onto it, I realized that I’m a fence-sitter. I mean, in a lot of ways, I’m a pretty non-commital person. I have a hard time making decisions. So that was my confession: ‘God, sorry for sitting on fences. Help me commit to truth and goodness and all that is holy.’ That kind of thing. Then I stepped over and kept going.
I came to another stone wall that probably connected to the one I had just climbed over, and thought it would be ironic if after that moment back there I found a spot on the wall, so I sat down. I started to mull over everything that had happened to me and all that I had learned while in Quebec. I started thinking about that week, and what we had been discussing during the lectures. On Thursday or Friday, Jeff asked us to find something in our spiritual lives that was lacking and to pray about it. I had chosen trust. Because of some crap that happened to me in the past couple years, I’ve been having a tough time trusting God. So I was thinking about that. And all of a sudden I got something, an impression. But it was different than most impressions, I get impressions all the time. This one had a closeness to it that I had never felt before. A “Sufjan Stevens” closeness, you know? Bands like Coldplay and Kings of Leon use a lot of reverb to make it sound like they’re in a cave or a church or a stadium or something. Sufjan Stevens sounds like he’s two inches from your ear, like he actually lives in your speakers. This is why Jon denHaan doesn’t like him, makes him feel claustrophobic. This is exactly why I love him. Anyway, this impression. It was super close, it was loud. It said, “I trust you.” Wow. I never thought of it that way. God trusts us. He trusts us with a lot. And being given this realization has helped me put my trust in Him more. So I had a little moment there in the woods with my God. Then I got another impression. It said, “go eat lunch.” So I did.
Not much else happened for the rest of the day. I spent the rest of it doing odds and ends while I thought about Jesus and the woods. We watched “the Breakfast Club” that evening or the next. I don’t really remember. Played some indoor soccer in their wicked awesome gym (remember the pictures?). I played a mean keeper. Nothing got past me. I was lord of my domain. It was a good game. Good week.
To you Dunhamites, I hope to see you all again some day. You are wonderful people. But if we don’t, or if it doesn’t happen for a very long time, you can always come on here and read the story about our awesome week. Except that this was all about me, so you can read about my awesome week, which would not have been half as awesome without you. Peace. Until we meet again.