The Sound of Silence

Hi, my name's Jonathan Clark, and I'm addicted to white noise.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about busyness over the past year, and all that thinking finally culminated in the realization today that I haven't allowed for silence in my life. On a material level, I love napping with a fan on, my itunes runs enough hours of the day that it feels like it just came out of the oven, and I find myself getting lost in the general meaningless of slogan'ed and cliche'd conversations. On a more serious level, I'm finding it really hard to hear God's voice and understand His will. And if I'm going to be really honest, it's hard for me to even really know and understand my friends.

Sure, I've tried to be more cognisant of setting aside time for reflection and prayer, but I get easily distracted when I try to reflect on my week and I get a bit demanding (to a fault) when I pray. It was a verse in 1 Kings that really hit me hard today when I read it, and made me realize how much I need to shut up and attend to the Lord...here it is (actually, to give some background first, Elijah is running away from Jezebel (enemy) and is pretty depressed and feels completely forsaken. He retreats to Mt. Horeb where he hears a voice telling him to go stand on the mountain. Then this happens...)

Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence (1 kings 19:11-12)

I looked at a couple of different translations on the last part, and though it varies, the idea is all the same: Elijah met God in the silence. The Great Communicator (God in this case, not Ronald Reagan) once again confronts me with an enormous paradox. As believers, we're called to find God, find ourselves, and find others in silence. Silence as a positive form of communication is everywhere in scripture and in nature!

First, more scripture...check this out...

1) Be still and know that I am God (psalm 46:10)
2)Be silent before the Lord God! (zephaniah 1:7)
3) But the Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth keep silence before him! (habakkuk 2:20)
4) Never be rash with your mouth, nor let your heart be quick to utter a word before God, for God is in heaven, and you upon earth; therefore let your words be few. (ecclesiastes 5:2)

The advice and admonitions in scripture are certainly there, but I've seen it even in nature. It is felt in the quiet communion between two lovers when words are just completely superfluous. I mean, isn't that the kind of communication you would like to have with your future spouse? If God has a woman out there for me, I certainly would! Another example would be felt in the whispers of a mother comforting her child. I don't think it's so much the words that are said as it is the silent presence of the loving mother being made known to her child.

I think silence has gotten a bad rap because so often it is associated with loneliness, emptiness, relational failure, abandonment, and crushed hopes. I can't count the number of times that I've waited patiently for an expression of love, someone's blessing, or an apology and just been completely disappointed and disillusioned by their silence. It isn't the only possibility though. I'm presented with a new paradoxical sense of silence in that it fosters communication and strong relationships. It's an easy prescription that is difficult in practice.

I know it's worth the effort. Think of all the great spiritual leaders (Moses, Elijah, John the Baptist, Paul, and Jesus) who spent time in the desert and wilderness. It's not a flight from the world, but an attendance to the Lord in such a way that we come to know Him and ourselves. So yea, with all that being said, I'm really going to work on taking some time to be a little more silent. I think it will even have a really good impact on my friendships. I know I've been doing a lot of listening without really hearing, and I've done a lot of acting without really thinking, and it's about time that changed. Well, thanks for reading this...I know it was a bit long. Oh, also, if anyone has any practical ideas on how to make this work, I would love to hear 'em! My name is Jonathan Clark, and I've been silent for 45 minutes. :) Hi, my name's Jonathan Clark, and I'm addicted to white noise.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about busyness over the past year, and all that thinking finally culminated in the realization today that I haven't allowed for silence in my life. On a material level, I love napping with a fan on, my itunes runs enough hours of the day that it feels like it just came out of the oven, and I find myself getting lost in the general meaningless of slogan'ed and cliche'd conversations. On a more serious level, I'm finding it really hard to hear God's voice and understand His will. And if I'm going to be really honest, it's hard for me to even really know and understand my friends.

Sure, I've tried to be more cognisant of setting aside time for reflection and prayer, but I get easily distracted when I try to reflect on my week and I get a bit demanding (to a fault) when I pray. It was a verse in 1 Kings that really hit me hard today when I read it, and made me realize how much I need to shut up and attend to the Lord...here it is (actually, to give some background first, Elijah is running away from Jezebel (enemy) and is pretty depressed and feels completely forsaken. He retreats to Mt. Horeb where he hears a voice telling him to go stand on the mountain. Then this happens...)

Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence (1 kings 19:11-12)

I looked at a couple of different translations on the last part, and though it varies, the idea is all the same: Elijah met God in the silence. The Great Communicator (God in this case, not Ronald Reagan) once again confronts me with an enormous paradox. As believers, we're called to find God, find ourselves, and find others in silence. Silence as a positive form of communication is everywhere in scripture and in nature!

First, more scripture...check this out...

1) Be still and know that I am God (psalm 46:10)
2)Be silent before the Lord God! (zephaniah 1:7)
3) But the Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth keep silence before him! (habakkuk 2:20)
4) Never be rash with your mouth, nor let your heart be quick to utter a word before God, for God is in heaven, and you upon earth; therefore let your words be few. (ecclesiastes 5:2)

The advice and admonitions in scripture are certainly there, but I've seen it even in nature. It is felt in the quiet communion between two lovers when words are just completely superfluous. I mean, isn't that the kind of communication you would like to have with your future spouse? If God has a woman out there for me, I certainly would! Another example would be felt in the whispers of a mother comforting her child. I don't think it's so much the words that are said as it is the silent presence of the loving mother being made known to her child.

I think silence has gotten a bad rap because so often it is associated with loneliness, emptiness, relational failure, abandonment, and crushed hopes. I can't count the number of times that I've waited patiently for an expression of love, someone's blessing, or an apology and just been completely disappointed and disillusioned by their silence. It isn't the only possibility though. I'm presented with a new paradoxical sense of silence in that it fosters communication and strong relationships. It's an easy prescription that is difficult in practice.

I know it's worth the effort. Think of all the great spiritual leaders (Moses, Elijah, John the Baptist, Paul, and Jesus) who spent time in the desert and wilderness. It's not a flight from the world, but an attendance to the Lord in such a way that we come to know Him and ourselves. So yea, with all that being said, I'm really going to work on taking some time to be a little more silent. I think it will even have a really good impact on my friendships. I know I've been doing a lot of listening without really hearing, and I've done a lot of acting without really thinking, and it's about time that changed. Well, thanks for reading this...I know it was a bit long. Oh, also, if anyone has any practical ideas on how to make this work, I would love to hear 'em! My name is Jonathan Clark, and I've been silent for 45 minutes. :)

From a Hotel Room in San Francisco

I am living in a hotel room for two weeks and working long days.

I am, at the same time, the most excited and the most terrified I've ever been in my entire life.

I am at Frost's diverging roads. I know I'll be better off if I relinquish control. Also, the "yellow wood" is quite urban, much to my dismay. Life changing transitional events are never as romanticized as you'd like them to be.

I promise not to grow up too fast.

I promise to do the best work I possibly can.

I promise pictures and worthwhile stories from these next two weeks.

See ya on the other side. I am living in a hotel room for two weeks and working long days.

I am, at the same time, the most excited and the most terrified I've ever been in my entire life.

I am at Frost's diverging roads. I know I'll be better off if I relinquish control. Also, the "yellow wood" is quite urban, much to my dismay. Life changing transitional events are never as romanticized as you'd like them to be.

I promise not to grow up too fast.

I promise to do the best work I possibly can.

I promise pictures and worthwhile stories from these next two weeks.

See ya on the other side.

Ink

Well, to be quite honest I don't know how I talked myself into this one. Getting a tattoo has become somewhat of an obsession of mine over the past six months, and I really can't figure out what triggered the idea. I guess I could blame a fairly safe and conservative life of 20-some-odd years of living to drive me to something a little more edgy but I really think it is more than that.

First, to clear this up, I never thought I would be able to settle on idea of something that I would want to put on my self permanently. I seem to have inherited a certain level of perfectionism from my mother and on big issues like this I knew indecision would likely become the ultimate detractor. I've wanted something that is personally energizing and convicting, a good conversation starter for others, and lastly, doesn't make me look like a total douche. Every original idea I could come up with I knew I would hate 20 years down the road, and I really couldn't find much that others had done that really fit me.

That was until I saw Mr. Kensrue's new ink...the heart locket is paradoxically ageless and rustic. The key bearing the greek initials for Jesus Christ, "ICXC" is also paradoxically subtle and powerful. I honestly have never found anything I liked so much. I think part of the allure for me is that I think it's such a cool way to remind myself of my accountability before God every morning. Surely there are better, less extreme, ways to do this, but I mean come on...

For what it's worth, even my mother liked it, and that's saying quite a bit. If I were to get any work done, I would likely get a piece on my shoulder coming down slightly onto the bicep...easy to cover up in the office yet visible for recreational time. I've made a couple variations to Dustin's piece but I really just don't think I have the creative capacity for something much better. Either way, I'm pumped. I'm such a little kid about this stuff! Well, to be quite honest I don't know how I talked myself into this one. Getting a tattoo has become somewhat of an obsession of mine over the past six months, and I really can't figure out what triggered the idea. I guess I could blame a fairly safe and conservative life of 20-some-odd years of living to drive me to something a little more edgy but I really think it is more than that.

First, to clear this up, I never thought I would be able to settle on idea of something that I would want to put on my self permanently. I seem to have inherited a certain level of perfectionism from my mother and on big issues like this I knew indecision would likely become the ultimate detractor. I've wanted something that is personally energizing and convicting, a good conversation starter for others, and lastly, doesn't make me look like a total douche. Every original idea I could come up with I knew I would hate 20 years down the road, and I really couldn't find much that others had done that really fit me.

That was until I saw Mr. Kensrue's new ink...the heart locket is paradoxically ageless and rustic. The key bearing the greek initials for Jesus Christ, "ICXC" is also paradoxically subtle and powerful. I honestly have never found anything I liked so much. I think part of the allure for me is that I think it's such a cool way to remind myself of my accountability before God every morning. Surely there are better, less extreme, ways to do this, but I mean come on...

For what it's worth, even my mother liked it, and that's saying quite a bit. If I were to get any work done, I would likely get a piece on my shoulder coming down slightly onto the bicep...easy to cover up in the office yet visible for recreational time. I've made a couple variations to Dustin's piece but I really just don't think I have the creative capacity for something much better. Either way, I'm pumped. I'm such a little kid about this stuff!

Backburner

I recently picked up a series of little books published by the guys who do Relevant magazine called the "foundations of faith" series. I was first drawn in from their homepage by a small banner boasting a $4 book sale, only to be convinced into making a purchase by the catchy cover art and long list of reputable authors in the series: Augustine, Thomas a Kempis, John Wesley, Charles Spurgeon, G.K. Chesterton, and Blaise Pascal.

I'm a couple chapters into Augustine's handbook and he has already brought up some interesting points on the interdependency of faith, hope, and love shown in the Lord's prayer, the goodness of creation, and the problems of evil and lying. Chapter V ended poignantly, and the following jarred me a bit:

"For the liar thinks he does not deceive himself and that he deceives only those who believe him. Indeed, he does not err in his lying, if he himself knows what the truth is. But he is deceived in this, that he supposes that his lie does no harm to himself, when actually every sin harms the one who commits it more that it does the one who suffers it. "

I've been thinking about that last line for a little bit, and I'm not sure that I entirely agree. I think I'd be hard-pressed to argue that sin doesn't harm the one who commits it, for it certainly does. Whether it is a loss of one's humanity, a hardening of one's heart against love, or a disconnect from God, one's sins certainly have an impact on one's relationships, moral compass, self-worth, and soul.

However, I think that the impact can be just as profound on those whom the trespass is leveled against. The first damages that come to my mind are physical. My thoughts are immediately drawn to those in need of aid who suffer under the greed, bigotry, and hate of others. I think there are spiritual ramifications for those who have been sinned against as well. A dear friend of mine has trouble believing in God's righteousness and justice because of the problems of pain and evil that are so pervasive. Another friend of mine was raped and was hardened against the concept of love, including God's. It's been really obvious to me in my own experience that the sins of others can devastate others physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I think one of the reason's that Paul so often commands the early churches to live out their faith in righteous works is because of the profound impact that their actions and their words have on others, especially under the scrutiny of all as they label themselves Christian.

It's been a bit of a step for me but I'm finally starting to take responsibility for my own words, actions, and thoughts again. It's a bit belated, I know. Not only are they a reflection on my honor before God and man, but they are a reflection of the Church and the body of believers I so readily call my brothers and sisters. Further more, there IS an impact following my words and actions that I have, until recently, passed off as inconsequential. My convictions can no longer rest dormantly on the backburner, and now, being in front of me, it's my charge to live a redeemed life. I recently picked up a series of little books published by the guys who do Relevant magazine called the "foundations of faith" series. I was first drawn in from their homepage by a small banner boasting a $4 book sale, only to be convinced into making a purchase by the catchy cover art and long list of reputable authors in the series: Augustine, Thomas a Kempis, John Wesley, Charles Spurgeon, G.K. Chesterton, and Blaise Pascal.

I'm a couple chapters into Augustine's handbook and he has already brought up some interesting points on the interdependency of faith, hope, and love shown in the Lord's prayer, the goodness of creation, and the problems of evil and lying. Chapter V ended poignantly, and the following jarred me a bit:

"For the liar thinks he does not deceive himself and that he deceives only those who believe him. Indeed, he does not err in his lying, if he himself knows what the truth is. But he is deceived in this, that he supposes that his lie does no harm to himself, when actually every sin harms the one who commits it more that it does the one who suffers it. "

I've been thinking about that last line for a little bit, and I'm not sure that I entirely agree. I think I'd be hard-pressed to argue that sin doesn't harm the one who commits it, for it certainly does. Whether it is a loss of one's humanity, a hardening of one's heart against love, or a disconnect from God, one's sins certainly have an impact on one's relationships, moral compass, self-worth, and soul.

However, I think that the impact can be just as profound on those whom the trespass is leveled against. The first damages that come to my mind are physical. My thoughts are immediately drawn to those in need of aid who suffer under the greed, bigotry, and hate of others. I think there are spiritual ramifications for those who have been sinned against as well. A dear friend of mine has trouble believing in God's righteousness and justice because of the problems of pain and evil that are so pervasive. Another friend of mine was raped and was hardened against the concept of love, including God's. It's been really obvious to me in my own experience that the sins of others can devastate others physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I think one of the reason's that Paul so often commands the early churches to live out their faith in righteous works is because of the profound impact that their actions and their words have on others, especially under the scrutiny of all as they label themselves Christian.

It's been a bit of a step for me but I'm finally starting to take responsibility for my own words, actions, and thoughts again. It's a bit belated, I know. Not only are they a reflection on my honor before God and man, but they are a reflection of the Church and the body of believers I so readily call my brothers and sisters. Further more, there IS an impact following my words and actions that I have, until recently, passed off as inconsequential. My convictions can no longer rest dormantly on the backburner, and now, being in front of me, it's my charge to live a redeemed life.

Midway in the journey of our life

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura,
ché la diritta via era smarrita.

Midway in the journey of our life
I came to myself in a dark wood,
for the straight way was lost. (Inf. I, 1-3)

I awoke a couple of weeks ago to find myself suffocating in the gnarled, overbearing weight of a hauntingly familiar wood. Growing up as a child and through my adolescence, I heard stories of this wood from those who had emerged, and desperate prayers were sent up for those unfortunate others who had not yet found their way. It has been nearly ten days...

Whether by happy mistake or by providence, I had set myself to cleaning out an old bookcase when I found a well-worn copy of Dante Alighieri's The Inferno. I had read the Commedia years ago for a course in the study of "great books", works heralded by thousands of scholars and millions of less-erudite readers as the greatest literary works of their respective times and our own. The motivating idea behind the Commedia is almost outrageous in its simplicity: haunted by ignorance, fear, and cowardice, moral compass askew, Dante begins on earth in fear and trembling to end, one hundred Cantos later, with a joyous and rapturous vision of the Trinitarian God.

The opening lines of his first Canto invite us to join him:

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita...
Midway in the journey of our life...

This is a story for the appetitive human soul, the "everyman". Me.

Too long have I been full of sleep. Like Dante, I do not even know how I have come to this place or when I forsook the one true way. When I awoke, sleep called me gently to once more lose my intellect and my will to its lull. Never again. Though strains of sleep dull my senses, I hear God's beckoning call above all else. As St. Augustine put down in his Confessions, "You have made us toward You, and our heart is restless until it finds rest in You". My restlessness has come to bear upon me in full strength, forced into a desperate deluge by nearly a year of suppression under sleep and sin.

I now turn to the Commedia with new eyes. No longer are Beatrice, Virgil, Dante, Francesca and others to be mere literary tools, allegories for faith, human reason, the soul, and lust. There is something to the Commedia beyond this, an invitation to look and see for ourselves. Yes, one can find the historical/literal, the allegorical, the moral, and ultimately seek to find the anagogical in the Commedia, but this time around, I desire the experience, Dante's experience on the full scales of human emotion and reason.

Everyone reads their own Commedia. Let's dialogue. Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura,
ché la diritta via era smarrita.

Midway in the journey of our life
I came to myself in a dark wood,
for the straight way was lost. (Inf. I, 1-3)

I awoke a couple of weeks ago to find myself suffocating in the gnarled, overbearing weight of a hauntingly familiar wood. Growing up as a child and through my adolescence, I heard stories of this wood from those who had emerged, and desperate prayers were sent up for those unfortunate others who had not yet found their way. It has been nearly ten days...

Whether by happy mistake or by providence, I had set myself to cleaning out an old bookcase when I found a well-worn copy of Dante Alighieri's The Inferno. I had read the Commedia years ago for a course in the study of "great books", works heralded by thousands of scholars and millions of less-erudite readers as the greatest literary works of their respective times and our own. The motivating idea behind the Commedia is almost outrageous in its simplicity: haunted by ignorance, fear, and cowardice, moral compass askew, Dante begins on earth in fear and trembling to end, one hundred Cantos later, with a joyous and rapturous vision of the Trinitarian God.

The opening lines of his first Canto invite us to join him:

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita...
Midway in the journey of our life...

This is a story for the appetitive human soul, the "everyman". Me.

Too long have I been full of sleep. Like Dante, I do not even know how I have come to this place or when I forsook the one true way. When I awoke, sleep called me gently to once more lose my intellect and my will to its lull. Never again. Though strains of sleep dull my senses, I hear God's beckoning call above all else. As St. Augustine put down in his Confessions, "You have made us toward You, and our heart is restless until it finds rest in You". My restlessness has come to bear upon me in full strength, forced into a desperate deluge by nearly a year of suppression under sleep and sin.

I now turn to the Commedia with new eyes. No longer are Beatrice, Virgil, Dante, Francesca and others to be mere literary tools, allegories for faith, human reason, the soul, and lust. There is something to the Commedia beyond this, an invitation to look and see for ourselves. Yes, one can find the historical/literal, the allegorical, the moral, and ultimately seek to find the anagogical in the Commedia, but this time around, I desire the experience, Dante's experience on the full scales of human emotion and reason.

Everyone reads their own Commedia. Let's dialogue.

Russian Circles - "Station"

Euphoric. Frenetic. Serene. Profound.

Allowing its instruments to speak in lieu of vocals, this Chicago trio brings its listeners along for a forty minute odyssey through a gamut of human emotions. It's strange that an album with which I have no prior familiarity so poignantly evoked long hidden memories and forgotten moments. This is what I always wanted The Album Leaf to be.

I would highly suggest attempting to digest the album all in one sitting, but for those who want to pick and choose tracks, Harper Lewis and Youngblood both shine.

Pitchfork Review: Such economy of motion yields stark beauty. Sullivan favors hypnotic, clean-toned ostinatos reminiscent of Pink Floyd. In "Youngblood", they're ominous; in "Campaign", they're winsome. Even when distorted, these repeating figures are still tender. "Harper Lewis" unfurls melodic spirals that recall prog-surfers the Mermen. The organ-lit "Xavii" is practically Mazzy Star. "Verses" takes the chord progression of "With or Without You", kicks out Bono, and erects a gleaming church. Amid peers fond of obfuscation, such nakedness is startling.

For the curious, impatient and insatiable, below is a video of Harper Lewis live:

Euphoric. Frenetic. Serene. Profound.

Allowing its instruments to speak in lieu of vocals, this Chicago trio brings its listeners along for a forty minute odyssey through a gamut of human emotions. It's strange that an album with which I have no prior familiarity so poignantly evoked long hidden memories and forgotten moments. This is what I always wanted The Album Leaf to be.

I would highly suggest attempting to digest the album all in one sitting, but for those who want to pick and choose tracks, Harper Lewis and Youngblood both shine.

Pitchfork Review: Such economy of motion yields stark beauty. Sullivan favors hypnotic, clean-toned ostinatos reminiscent of Pink Floyd. In "Youngblood", they're ominous; in "Campaign", they're winsome. Even when distorted, these repeating figures are still tender. "Harper Lewis" unfurls melodic spirals that recall prog-surfers the Mermen. The organ-lit "Xavii" is practically Mazzy Star. "Verses" takes the chord progression of "With or Without You", kicks out Bono, and erects a gleaming church. Amid peers fond of obfuscation, such nakedness is startling.

For the curious, impatient and insatiable, below is a video of Harper Lewis live:

my hiatus has ended

After months of hurried activity, I've finally returned to the double-edgedness of blogging. A got a nice wake-up call a couple of nights ago and I realized that I need to slow down a little bit and take some time to reflect. I suppose part of that process is journaling, but seeing as how my handwriting skills are the equivalent of a third grader's, and I have zero patience, blogging has proven to be much more convenient. Plus, I now have something to do instead of policy hw. I re-read my last post trying to remember what I last wrote about: I generally blackout for a few minutes while I write these things and what comes out is more of a stream of consciousness than ordered thought. I think it's funny how I'm now taking my own advice about motion and meaning a few months down the road. Wonderful how that works.

Where to begin...I guess that the last couple weeks have been an exercise in trying to tell people what they already know. It's surprisingly difficult. It's also surprisingly rewarding. There are three people (off the top of my head) who have struggled through this process with me in the preceding weeks, and they are nothing short of wonderful.

This next semester (and year) are going to be full of some pretty fantastic stories. It's senior year! Stay tuned. After months of hurried activity, I've finally returned to the double-edgedness of blogging. A got a nice wake-up call a couple of nights ago and I realized that I need to slow down a little bit and take some time to reflect. I suppose part of that process is journaling, but seeing as how my handwriting skills are the equivalent of a third grader's, and I have zero patience, blogging has proven to be much more convenient. Plus, I now have something to do instead of policy hw. I re-read my last post trying to remember what I last wrote about: I generally blackout for a few minutes while I write these things and what comes out is more of a stream of consciousness than ordered thought. I think it's funny how I'm now taking my own advice about motion and meaning a few months down the road. Wonderful how that works.

Where to begin...I guess that the last couple weeks have been an exercise in trying to tell people what they already know. It's surprisingly difficult. It's also surprisingly rewarding. There are three people (off the top of my head) who have struggled through this process with me in the preceding weeks, and they are nothing short of wonderful.

This next semester (and year) are going to be full of some pretty fantastic stories. It's senior year! Stay tuned.