W. J. Seaton

Dear friends,

Just outside of the town of Dunoon on the Firth of Clyde is a little spot that we often visit when on holiday there. Its one of those places where, after a short walk along a well-kept path, you suddenly find yourself in a hollow surrounded by purple hills, and the words of the psalmist immediately leap into your mouth: “As the hills are about Jerusalem, so is the arms of the Lord about them that fear him.”

It can be very quiet there, and it never fails to impress the heart with the truth of the necessity of “quietness” in the life of the believer.

We live in an age of noise. The world never seems to be happy unless every waking moment is filled with the din of TV. or radio or the general chatter and clatter of idle communication. The Church, too, has somewhat relegated the place of quietness to a dim and distant past generation and there appears to be little exhortation or desire to “meditate”, or “muse”, or even “think” very deeply on the things of our God.

We live in an age or “racket” evangelism where religious beat-groups grind out their worldly music pounding the senses until the extraction of a “decision” becomes a simple matter of technique. Gone are the days when the unbeliever was left in quietness with his religious impressions gained through the ministry of God’s Word in the gospel; left with his impressions of things eternal so that they might, under God’s Holy Spirit, mature in his heart and mind into the seeking and finding of life eternal in Christ. The plan now seems to pummel, and then, rush the “conditioned” listener into a profession of vague acceptance of a vague salvation formula.

What a word it is that we have with regards to Mary when the news was brought to her that she was going to be a mother of the coming Messiah: “And Mary pondered these things in her heart,” we are told. Joseph, too, set aside time to meditate on the whole scope of what lay before him; “And as he thought on these things,” we read, “the angel of the Lord appeared unto him …” There is surely a sanctity in silence where we may come very near to the mind of the Lord for our lives.

How often are we told to “wait”, to “consider”, to “be still”? But, like so much else, the spirit of the world is with us here. Perhaps the old highlander had a good word for us: “Sometimes I sit and think,” he said, “and other times I think and sit.”

Sincerely

W.J. Seaton

From The Wicket Gate Magazine, published in the UK, used with permission.