Waiting for God

According to thy word.
They shall praise thee and suffer in every generation with glory and derision,
Light upon light, mounting the saint's stair.
Not for me the martyrdom, the ecstasy of thought and prayer,
Not for me the ultimate vision. Grant me thy peace.
I am tired with my own life, and the lives of those after me. Let thy servant depart, having seen thy salvation.

--T.S. Eliot, "A Song for Simeon"

I have always had to wait for important people in my life. When I was a child (okay, when I was a smaller child), I can remember what it was like having to wait for people to show up. I remember the initial excitement of learning that this person would appear soon, which always felt like it should be right now. It was then followed by the anticipation of learning that it wasn't right now and having to wait for what seemed (to a child) to be an eternity. One time in particular, I remember my cousins were to visit my family at my grandmother's house. I was excited but I remembered that they were inclined to ignore their younger cousin if he was too excited to see them. So, when I learned they were on their way over, I forced myself to stay away from everyone by hiding out in my grandmother's laundry room, playing with some toy on the carpet. I waited for my cousins to come to me. And waited. And waited some more. I had to wait two hours, but it worked. It was a total power trip at the time but I learned waiting for things had benefits.

Having had that epiphany, my adolescence should have been easier, because in that period of time there was a lot of waiting for things to get better. It wasn't easy and it didn't get better. I can remember my parents telling me I would have to wait for my peers, to catch up with me because I acted more mature than they did. Translation: buckle up, it was going to be a long and bumpy ride. As an adult, I waited to fall in love in college, which is the way it happened for everyone in my family. When I fell in love many years after, I was surprised by what I found because falling in love wasn't on my time table and it was reciprocated. As a teacher, I often tell my students "I'll wait until you are quiet before I continue with the lesson." And now . . . now I know that people have waited for me to join them in this community for a long time, some being so patient as to wait three years for me to find my voice and speak my truth. I believe in the body of Christ, the living proof of God's community on Earth but I pray for help with my unbelief. For I feel unworthy of such a gift and living in community with others chafes in strange places.

So it would stand to reason that I should have perfected patience in all of this time. The truth of the matter is that I haven't. Now, I am waiting for God to show up so we can talk. But here's the thing: I don't find Him in the loudness of a religious service. I don't find Him in my selfish prayers. I rarely find Him at all in church these days. I find Him in the quiet places of the heart, in the faces of people I have the courage to look in the eye, and the intimacy of a conversation with a friend who asks "How are you?" and means it.

I feel like Simeon in Eliot's poem, asking, after waiting for the hyacinths to bloom, for a small sign of God's promise to us, a whisper of His voice. Only it's not a feeling of anticipation it's a feeling of tension in not knowing the hour of that answer. For to hear requires being quiet enough to recognize the answer when it comes. Now, it's learning to be at peace with not getting the answer I want but the answer that I need. Every Sunday, I look up at the cross for His presence but my heart is not open. I am not quiet. I am not listening.

Buddhists believe that one of the reasons for human suffering is clinging to people, objects, and emotions that should be let go. If I have walked in the darkness of suffering, it is because I have clung to too many things in my life. But the greatest thing I cling to is noise. I drown out the quiet voice that speaks to me with anything and everything. How can I hear what God has to say if I am preoccupied with the importance of my own feelings and thoughts? If I am constantly in a state of consuming to feel filled instead of being emptied out by opening my heart?

We all wait for God to show up but will we be able to hear His voice when he does? The time has come to listen in real silence as a community in prayer, to listen to each other. In other words, in the nicest possible way, to shut up.

May you be like Simeon, waiting for God's voice among the blooming hyacinths:
Lord, not for me the ultimate vision. Grant me thy peace.
Lord I have not listened in the way that I should. I have not listened to my neighbor or you. I have put my voice and myself above all else. I am tired with my own life, and the lives of those after me. Open my ears and heart,
and let thy servant depart this place, having seen thy salvation. Amen.