The Work of Silence

Sam Mahlstadt —  February 6, 2013 — 1 Comment
Creative Theology |

After last year’s Luminous Project gathering, Ian Cron suggested I read Thomas Merton’s The Seven Storey Mountain. I’m finishing up the book, which has been an incredible experience. Merton’s work, much like my experience at Luminous, has been deeply formative as I work through what it means to respond to God with my life and work. Silence has been a reocurring theme, and I’ve been wrestling with how to facilitate silence in my life nearly every day. It sounds ridiculous to say, “how to facilitate silence” but it’s true. If it were easy to just shut up, I’d be well on my contemplative way. But it’s something that takes tremendous effort.

I would love to give you a series of practical take aways that we are accustomed to in these types of posts. I could tell you to take longer showers, turn the radio off during your commute, wake up 30 minutes early, stay up later, etc etc etc. But the truth is, silence, just like any other spiritual practice, takes…practice. You must be intentional, you must facilitate silence by finding a rhythm. I am still searching for mine.

Here’s the great news: when you find that rhythm, it becomes natural to respond to God with both life and work out of a spiritual depth and grace. I’ve known this to be true in my own life. I also heard Pete Wilson say once that writer’s block is really just being empty. To break through the block, then, you just need to fill yourself up. Of course, there is no greater way than by spending time in silence and prayer. Here’s a bit from Merton on his writing (and on life):

…I had found that the interval after the night office, in the great silence, between four and five-thirty, on the morning of feast days, was wonderful time to write verse. After two or three hours of prayer your mind is saturated in peace and the richness of the liturgy. The dawn is breaking outside the cold windows. If it is warm, the birds are already beginning to sing. Whole blocks of imagery seem to crystallize out as it were naturally in the silence and the peace, and the lines almost write themselves.

Yes, you will be more productive, more creative, and more pleasant if you find room for silence. But productivity and creativity are not, cannot, be the end goal. A life more firmly rooted in Christ’s grace is the aim, and the rest are byproducts. Keep your eye on the prize. Find your rhythm.

This post was inspired by the Luminous Project. Luminous is a creative spiritual event in Nashville May 1-3, 2013. To find out more, check out www.luminousproject.com. You can use the promo code ‘BRINGitHERE’ to get 35% off the registration price.

 

 

As I’ve been writing about issues of faith and creativity the past few years, I have seen reoccuring themes and struggles among artists, creative directors, pastors and lay-people as they wrestle with what it means to live and create art that honors God. Within worship services, at day jobs, and in our communities, these themes reemerge over and over again. Especially since people who have a natural creative bent tend to isolate themselves, it is vital that we come together and work through these in community. For this reason, I will be holding a meetup in uptown Minneapolis for folks in that area to come together, network (which makes me horribly uncomfortable) with other Christian artists and creative-minded individuals, and discuss what it means to join God in his work.

This will be the first of what I hope is a series of gatherings to work through what it means to explore faith and creativity in our lives, communities, and churches.

Here’s the event bio, if you will…

Join other pastors, creative directors, artists, and others exploring the intersection of faith and creativity over coffee and good food at The Beat Coffeehouse in uptown Minneapolis. 

I will be sharing a few brief concepts such as how to creaft your life (and art) in response to the Creator, how the burden of creation may seem inevitable but how it can be conquered, and what it means to take our place in the restorative work of God. 

The one-day event, Saturday, March 2nd from 8am-12pm, will also begin conversations regarding the future of the church, such as:

  • Cultivating creative talent
  • Curating artwork in the local church
  • Producing deep work and resisting the urge to copy
  • How to creative and prolific, as required with a 6-day turnaround
  • Releasing artists to join in the work of the gospel

All attendees will receive an eBook version of Creative Theology, as well as a signed hardcover copy ($30 value). See what people are saying about the book here.

Registration also secures you a spot in an exclusive online community that will receive resources and an opportunity to connect throughout the year. 

For those of you in or near the Minneapolis area, I’d love to meet you and discuss these topics wtih you in person! You can register here.

Letter from Birmingham Jail

Sam Mahlstadt —  January 21, 2013 — 1 Comment

If we are to join God in bringing forth renewal in our time, we can’t just believe in justice, we must act for justice courageously. We must make sacrifice as much a part of our lives as the concern for our own wellbeing. I am deeply grateful for the model of what it means to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with the God.

A few pieces from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s letter from a Birmingham jail cell, written to eight clergymen from Alabama.

While confined here in the Birmingham city jail, I came across your recent statement calling my present activities “unwise and untimely.” Seldom do I pause to answer criticism of my work and ideas. If I sought to answer all the criticisms that cross my desk, my secretaries would have little time for anything other than such correspondence in the course of the day, and I would have no time for constructive work. But since I feel that you are men of genuine good will and that your criticisms are sincerely set forth, I want to try to answer your statements in what I hope will be patient and reasonable terms.

We have waited for more than 340 years for our constitutional and God-given rights. The nations of Asia and Africa are moving with jetlike speed toward gaining political independence, but we stiff creep at horse-and-buggy pace toward gaining a cup of coffee at a lunch counter. Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging dark of segregation to say, “Wait.” But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate-filled policemen curse, kick and even kill your black brothers and sisters; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six-year-old daughter why she can’t go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky, and see her beginning to distort her personality by developing an unconscious bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five-year-old son who is asking: “Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?”; when you take a cross-country drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading “white” and “colored”; when your first name becomes “nigger,” your middle name becomes “boy” (however old you are) and your last name becomes “John,” and your wife and mother are never given the respected title “Mrs.”; when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance, never quite knowing what to expect next, and are plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you go forever fighting a degenerating sense of “nobodiness” then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer willing to be plunged into the abyss of despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience.

I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a “more convenient season.” Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.

I hope this letter finds you strong in the faith. I also hope that circumstances will soon make it possible for me to meet each of you, not as an integrationist or a civil rights leader but as a fellow clergyman and a Christian brother. Let us all hope that the dark clouds of racial prejudice will soon pass away and the deep fog of misunderstanding will be lifted from our fear-drenched communities, and in some not too distant tomorrow the radiant stars of love and brotherhood will shine over our great nation with all their scintillating beauty.

Yours for the cause of Peace and Brotherhood,

Martin Luther King, Jr.

I wasn’t kidding when I said my friend Sam is brilliant.. Check out this Advent piece he wrote.

You can also buy the poster version of the written piece here.

May you have peace that passes all understanding.

May you be grounded in the hope of a child King.

May you, like Simeon, feel the assurance that all will be set right.

Jesus has come.

Glory to God in the highest.