Abandoning Absurdity
The Young Life camp, less than 2 hours drive from Bend at the Washington Family Ranch, is a truly amazing place. The historic Big Muddy ranch sits SE of Antelope and up against 13 miles of the John Day River. It straddles two counties, has countless mountains and ravines and hosts all the big game a 64K acre spread might hope to have (that’s 100 square miles!). They sustainably run cattle and grow hay to help fund the camp, which exists in order to introduce youth to Jesus through their distinct approach to spreading the good news.
Each year in the spring, the hard-working and primarily behind-the-scenes property staff host a “Work and Worship” weekend open to volunteers to buff the place into shape, ready to welcome kids to camp. It’s not hard to imagine how many jobs, large and small, await this group as the place emerges out of a long Eastern Oregon winter. I was happy to be counted among them this year. A special thanks to Erin and John for setting up and honchoing the weekend!
Saturday afternoon I was able to slip away and drive down to the overlook of the John Day to sit for awhile. The wind had stilled. Spring sunshine coaxed out the first green shoots from tough ground on every hillside in sight. Bird calls echoed from way up the draws. Ducks patrolled close to the water like fighter jets. Mostly silence.
In our world of constant noise, silence can be a bit unsettling. When my news feed or social media or Spotify are out of reach, I’m left with myself. That’s not bad at all, it’s only that I’ve been trained by my distractions to rarely just be quiet and listen. Really, it’s absurd to be so distracted.
A writer I like has this to say about solitude and silence.
From all that I have said about our worried and overfilled lives, it is clear that we are usually surrounded by so much inner and outer noise that it is hard to truly hear our God when he is speaking to us. We have become deaf, unable to know when God calls us and unable to understand in which direction he calls us. Thus our lives have become absurd. In the word absurd we find the Latin word “surdus”, which means deaf. A spiritual life requires discipline because we need to listen to God, who constantly speaks but him we seldom hear. When, however, we learn to listen, our lives become obedient lives. The word obedient comes from the Latin word “audire”, which means listening.
I don’t know about you, but I need the discipline to move more from the absurdity of trying to figure God out by myself to listening to my Maker. Freeing up some inner space, like the minutes sitting on my tailgate looking over the river far below, aren’t always easy to come by but worth the effort.
Returning to camp after some stolen time of just listening filled my sails with enough fresh wind to dive into the next good thing. And that good thing came in the form of an 8 year-old girl with long curly red hair and an infectious smile. She lives on the ranch with her family and sought me out for a bit of talk. She asked questions, I asked questions, but mostly we listened to each other’s stories. It was as if God brought her along to give me a demonstration of not being absurd, but stopping long enough to listen.
All of us know that solitude does not come easily, and intentional moves to step away with God can, and maybe should, be planned into a schedule. Really, unless these times are on the planner they are routinely avoided. Solitude was a key part of Jesus’ life and we read of him slipping off by himself to pray and do all the helpful alone things he knew he needed.
Listening in those times of solitude, not speaking but sitting still and waiting to hear from the God who speaks calls for discipline. But like any discipline, listening gets easier the more it is practiced. Plus, this puts a believer in the company of all the saints in every age. Sitting. Meditating on a scripture, rolling it over in your mind. Silence. Waiting. Listening.
Let’s stop living absurd lives, deaf to the Spirit’s voice. During this Passion Week, as we prepare for Easter Sunday, please allow me to invite you into a bit of solitude. You may have to purposely carve out time and a place, but moments unplugged and quiet will often be the place God meets you. Pray for your deaf ears to be unclogged and stop to listen, just for a while. Let me know how it works for you.
If you are unfamiliar with Young Life or Washington Family Ranch, here is a link to them. https://washingtonfamilyranch.younglife.org/
Music for Passion Week
How about some bad jokes? We got ‘em
I asked my girlfriend to describe me in 5 words.
She said I'm mature, I'm moral, I'm pure, I'm polite, and ultimately I'm perfect!
Then she added that I also had a fundamental lack of understanding about apostrophes and spaces.
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Jim and Sally were deeply and desperately in love, so with the wisdom of youth, they decided to forego the formalities of a traditional ceremony to simply and secretly elope.
Their plan was the soul of simplicity: they would drive to a nearby town, find a Justice of the Peace and by nightfall would be man and wife.
As they drew near a small municipality, they saw an older man on a tractor, cutting the grass and weeds on the shoulder of the road.
Jim slowed down, Sally rolled down her window and they asked if the town boasted a JP.
"Yep." Was the reply.
"Where is the office?" Jim enquired.
"On the right as you come to the town square. Can't miss it." The old fellow informed them.
The eager couple thanked him and sped off.
When they came to the town. They immediately located the office of the JP.
Entering, they found a clerk who helpfully told them that the JP was not in, but should be returning soon.
They found chairs and waited rather impatiently for the magistrate.
After what seemed to the couple to be an inordinate wait, the door opened and a freshly showered gentleman appeared.
Jim said, "Say, aren't you the fellow who was driving the tractor?"
"Yep, that's me," the dignitary informed them, "The mower, the marryer"