Loneliness & Solitude: An Unpreached Sermon
The following is the sermon I wrote for February 5. I didn't preach it. Because the night before my dog Josephine, who had been battling histocytic sarcoma for several months, had become very sick and early in the morning I knew I had no choice but to take her to the 24-hour emergency veterinary hospital and help her cross over the barrier that separates life from death. My wife and I held her in our arms as the vet administered the overdose of a sedative, both us in tears as the pain ... and then the sparkle of life ... left her eyes.
Instead of preaching this sermon, I sat on the chancel steps with the children of the parish and we talked about losing pets. I told them how I had cried but how was nonetheless grateful to God for the ten years Josey had been a part of my life, for the unconditional love she had given me, and for the good memories I will always have.
Today (Feb. 6) was the first day in many years that I went to the office completely without her (sometimes when Evelyn would be staying home for the day, she would not go with me, but I always went to work knowing she'd greet me when I returned home). It's not that Josey ever did anything other than sleep ... and greet the occasional visitor ... but the office just seemed less friendly without her there.
I miss her ... I'm sure I always will.
Anyway ... hear's the unpreached sermon.
Today we heard in the Gospel reading that, after healing Peter’s mother-in-law of some disease, dining in her home, and spending the night there, Jesus "got up [early in the morning,] ... went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed.
This is not the first, nor will it be the last time, Jesus goes away by himself. Jesus seems to be a man who enjoys being by himself, who finds comfort in solitude. Whenever he has had a period of significant public activity, he goes away to some quiet place to pray, to meditate, to rest, and to replenish his energy. Jesus would be described by modern psychologists as "introversive."
Jesus' experience of being alone in the wilderness can be described, and thereby understood, in a variety of ways depending upon which of the various synonyms for the condition of "alone-ness" one chooses to use. Among those synonyms are solitude, retirement, seclusion, isolation, and loneliness. As I have scanned the dictionaries, this is what I have learned:
Solitude describes the fact that a person is alone; it literally means "being by one's self." (Keep that mention of "self" in mind; I'll come back to it in a minute.)
Retirement is a voluntary withdrawal from general society, implying that a person has been engaged in its activities.
Seclusion, that he is shut out from others, usually by his own choice.
Isolation emphasizes total separation or detachment from others, and is usually involuntary.
Lonely literally means "to be one," "being without a companion," and carries a connotation of sadness.
Except for solitude, all of these words have negative connotations: retirement is the opposite of an active, public life; seclusion is the opposite of being freely accessible to others; isolation is the opposite of being accepted in society; and loneliness is the opposite of that enjoyment of society which the heart demands.
It seems to me that how we perceive Jesus' "alone-ness" depends on our own comfort with the idea of being alone. If one is not comfortable apart from others, one may see Jesus as "lonely" or as "isolated". On the other hand, those who are comfortable to be "by themselves" will perceive his experience as "retirement" into "seclusion". Perhaps it is a matter of whether one is able to perceive the companionship and comfort of God the Holy Spirit or the protection of God the Father in times of "alone-ness". Clearly, Jesus was able to do so, even when his solitude was interrupted by the assaults of the Tempter. This seems to be the very reason he goes off into the desert alone so often.
I want to contrast two of these terms in particular, solitude and loneliness, and I want to do so first by using a little linguistic study. I believe there is great truth in language, in its underlying meanings, and in its origins; that is why I frequently lead you down the path of Greek and Hebrew word study. Today, let's take a brief walk down the path of English word study because in the origins of these two words, loneliness and solitude, I think we can find a significant spiritual truth.
I asked you a moment ago to keep in mind the literal meaning of solitude as "being by one's self." This word derives from an Indo-European root "s(w)e-" (pronounced "swoh-") meaning "self" and from which our cognate words s-o-l-e and s-o-u-l are derived. In other words, solitude, as a describer of alone- ness, is rooted in a spiritual concept, the concept of self or soul.
On the other hand, lonely is derived from the ancient word root "oi-no" which means simply "one," a mathematical unit. It has nothing to do with self-hood or the soul. In its origins the word lonely is devoid of spiritual overtones. One philosophical writer touched on this when she wrote:
"Loneliness is a fact of life. Loneliness is not just the result of being alone. It can be felt while with another or with many. Loneliness is the resulting experience of separation from the self. Until you have learned to connect continuously with your essential Self, you are prone to loneliness. " (This comment was found on the web, but the site is no longer functioning.)
"Essential self" is a Greek philosophical concept; it was a term Aristotle used to describe the human pneuma (pneuma) or spirit. Loneliness, then, is total alone-ness; it is a detachment not only from other people, but from one's own spiritual being. This is why it is the first thing referred to in Scripture as being "not good":
Then the Lord God said, "It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper as his partner." (Genesis 2:18, NRSV)
Throughout the Bible, many people suffer the anguish of loneliness. The Psalmist describes loneliness when he writes:
I look to my right hand and find no one who knows me; *
I have no place to flee to, and no one cares for me. (Psalm 142:4, BCP version)
Jonah and Elijah both felt loneliness (and anger) such that they begged to die. Elijah went out into the desert, sat beneath a solitary tree and prayed, "It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors." (1 Kings 19:4) Jonah did much the same thing when he felt abandoned by God: "He said, 'It is better for me to die than to live.'" (Jonah 4:8)
The Prophet Jeremiah, too, felt the pangs of loneliness when he felt separated from God:
I did not sit in the company of merrymakers, nor did I rejoice; under the weight of your hand I sat alone, for you had filled me with indignation. Why is my pain unceasing, my wound incurable, refusing to be healed? Truly, you are to me like a deceitful brook, like waters that fail. (Jeremiah 15:17-18)
All these are examples of the pain and anguish of loneliness. Loneliness is destructive.
Solitude, on the other hand, is the creative experience of being always in the Presence of God even when completely apart from the rest of the world. Solitude is the experience the Psalmist writes of in Psalm 139:1-7:
Lord, you have searched me out and known me; *
you know my sitting down and my rising up; you discern my thoughts from afar.
You trace my journeys and my resting-places *
and are acquainted with all my ways.
Indeed, there is not a word on my lips, *
but you, O Lord, know it altogether.
You press upon me behind and before *
and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; *
it is so high that I cannot attain to it.
Where can I go then from your Spirit? *
where can I flee from your presence?
If I climb up to heaven, you are there; *
if I make the grave my bed, you are there also.
Knowledge of the companionship of God is the solution for loneliness.
Jesus knew that companionship in the desert. In John's Gospel, as he talks with the Twelve at the Last Supper, he describes how that sense of God's Presence is still with him:
The hour is coming, indeed it has come, when you will be scattered, each one to his home, and you will leave me alone. Yet I am not alone because the Father is with me. (John 16:32)
How can we come to have this sense of God's Presence in our lives? How can we who strive to follow Jesus follow him in this way, as well?
We can do so in community. The Apostle John, in his first catholic epistle, said that we learn to love God whom we cannot see by loving our brothers and sisters whom we can see. (1 John 4:20) In the same way, we learn to appreciate the companionship of God, the comfort of the Holy Spirit, the protection of the Father, through experiencing the companionship, comfort, and protection of our brothers and sisters in the People of God. This is, perhaps, why God enjoined celebration and companionship upon his people.
In the Book of Deuteronomy, they are told to gather together to celebrate annually their liberation from Egypt, and this celebration and companionship is to reach beyond their own families and communities and embrace the alien, the stranger, and the foreigner who may also be dwelling in their land. (Deut. 26:11)
A modern poet once wrote a love song in which he thanked his beloved for that gift. I won't try to sing the song for you, but these are the lyrics:
You have brought me solitude,
And I believe it is the time
for me to show some gratitude.
I think I'll take a minute
to reflect upon your attitude,
But most of all I love the way
that you have brought me solitude.
You have been a friend to me,
And I believe it is the time
for me to show some sympathy.
I watch the way you suffer
with the problems only I can see,
But most of all I love the way
that you have been a friend to me.
You have been misunderstood,
And I believe it is the time
for you to feel the way you should.
I'd love to see you smile a while
and know that you were feeling good,
But mostly I regret the way
that you have been misunderstood.
You have been a friend to me,
And I believe it is the time
for me to show some sympathy.
I watch the way you suffer
with the problems only I can see,
But most of all I love the way
that you have been a friend to me.
You have brought me solitude,
you have brought me solitude ...
Surprisingly enough, that was written by Frank Zappa for his wife Gale (circa 1975). As far as I know, it is the only love song he ever composed.
Loneliness is destructive. Solitude is creative. Pablo Picasso, the great Spanish painter, once remarked, "Without great solitude no serious work is possible." Frances Steloff, the famous New York bookseller, voiced a similar thought when she said, "You need solitude if you are going to fulfill your promises."
Jesus found the energy and Spirit to fulfill his promise in solitude. May each of us, as we make our occasional journeys through the places of alone-ness, find them experiences not of discouraging loneliness but of fertile solitude. Amen.
Instead of preaching this sermon, I sat on the chancel steps with the children of the parish and we talked about losing pets. I told them how I had cried but how was nonetheless grateful to God for the ten years Josey had been a part of my life, for the unconditional love she had given me, and for the good memories I will always have.
Today (Feb. 6) was the first day in many years that I went to the office completely without her (sometimes when Evelyn would be staying home for the day, she would not go with me, but I always went to work knowing she'd greet me when I returned home). It's not that Josey ever did anything other than sleep ... and greet the occasional visitor ... but the office just seemed less friendly without her there.
I miss her ... I'm sure I always will.
Anyway ... hear's the unpreached sermon.
Today we heard in the Gospel reading that, after healing Peter’s mother-in-law of some disease, dining in her home, and spending the night there, Jesus "got up [early in the morning,] ... went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed.
This is not the first, nor will it be the last time, Jesus goes away by himself. Jesus seems to be a man who enjoys being by himself, who finds comfort in solitude. Whenever he has had a period of significant public activity, he goes away to some quiet place to pray, to meditate, to rest, and to replenish his energy. Jesus would be described by modern psychologists as "introversive."
Jesus' experience of being alone in the wilderness can be described, and thereby understood, in a variety of ways depending upon which of the various synonyms for the condition of "alone-ness" one chooses to use. Among those synonyms are solitude, retirement, seclusion, isolation, and loneliness. As I have scanned the dictionaries, this is what I have learned:
Solitude describes the fact that a person is alone; it literally means "being by one's self." (Keep that mention of "self" in mind; I'll come back to it in a minute.)
Retirement is a voluntary withdrawal from general society, implying that a person has been engaged in its activities.
Seclusion, that he is shut out from others, usually by his own choice.
Isolation emphasizes total separation or detachment from others, and is usually involuntary.
Lonely literally means "to be one," "being without a companion," and carries a connotation of sadness.
Except for solitude, all of these words have negative connotations: retirement is the opposite of an active, public life; seclusion is the opposite of being freely accessible to others; isolation is the opposite of being accepted in society; and loneliness is the opposite of that enjoyment of society which the heart demands.
It seems to me that how we perceive Jesus' "alone-ness" depends on our own comfort with the idea of being alone. If one is not comfortable apart from others, one may see Jesus as "lonely" or as "isolated". On the other hand, those who are comfortable to be "by themselves" will perceive his experience as "retirement" into "seclusion". Perhaps it is a matter of whether one is able to perceive the companionship and comfort of God the Holy Spirit or the protection of God the Father in times of "alone-ness". Clearly, Jesus was able to do so, even when his solitude was interrupted by the assaults of the Tempter. This seems to be the very reason he goes off into the desert alone so often.
I want to contrast two of these terms in particular, solitude and loneliness, and I want to do so first by using a little linguistic study. I believe there is great truth in language, in its underlying meanings, and in its origins; that is why I frequently lead you down the path of Greek and Hebrew word study. Today, let's take a brief walk down the path of English word study because in the origins of these two words, loneliness and solitude, I think we can find a significant spiritual truth.
I asked you a moment ago to keep in mind the literal meaning of solitude as "being by one's self." This word derives from an Indo-European root "s(w)e-" (pronounced "swoh-") meaning "self" and from which our cognate words s-o-l-e and s-o-u-l are derived. In other words, solitude, as a describer of alone- ness, is rooted in a spiritual concept, the concept of self or soul.
On the other hand, lonely is derived from the ancient word root "oi-no" which means simply "one," a mathematical unit. It has nothing to do with self-hood or the soul. In its origins the word lonely is devoid of spiritual overtones. One philosophical writer touched on this when she wrote:
"Loneliness is a fact of life. Loneliness is not just the result of being alone. It can be felt while with another or with many. Loneliness is the resulting experience of separation from the self. Until you have learned to connect continuously with your essential Self, you are prone to loneliness. " (This comment was found on the web, but the site is no longer functioning.)
"Essential self" is a Greek philosophical concept; it was a term Aristotle used to describe the human pneuma (pneuma) or spirit. Loneliness, then, is total alone-ness; it is a detachment not only from other people, but from one's own spiritual being. This is why it is the first thing referred to in Scripture as being "not good":
Then the Lord God said, "It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper as his partner." (Genesis 2:18, NRSV)
Throughout the Bible, many people suffer the anguish of loneliness. The Psalmist describes loneliness when he writes:
I look to my right hand and find no one who knows me; *
I have no place to flee to, and no one cares for me. (Psalm 142:4, BCP version)
Jonah and Elijah both felt loneliness (and anger) such that they begged to die. Elijah went out into the desert, sat beneath a solitary tree and prayed, "It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors." (1 Kings 19:4) Jonah did much the same thing when he felt abandoned by God: "He said, 'It is better for me to die than to live.'" (Jonah 4:8)
The Prophet Jeremiah, too, felt the pangs of loneliness when he felt separated from God:
I did not sit in the company of merrymakers, nor did I rejoice; under the weight of your hand I sat alone, for you had filled me with indignation. Why is my pain unceasing, my wound incurable, refusing to be healed? Truly, you are to me like a deceitful brook, like waters that fail. (Jeremiah 15:17-18)
All these are examples of the pain and anguish of loneliness. Loneliness is destructive.
Solitude, on the other hand, is the creative experience of being always in the Presence of God even when completely apart from the rest of the world. Solitude is the experience the Psalmist writes of in Psalm 139:1-7:
Lord, you have searched me out and known me; *
you know my sitting down and my rising up; you discern my thoughts from afar.
You trace my journeys and my resting-places *
and are acquainted with all my ways.
Indeed, there is not a word on my lips, *
but you, O Lord, know it altogether.
You press upon me behind and before *
and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; *
it is so high that I cannot attain to it.
Where can I go then from your Spirit? *
where can I flee from your presence?
If I climb up to heaven, you are there; *
if I make the grave my bed, you are there also.
Knowledge of the companionship of God is the solution for loneliness.
Jesus knew that companionship in the desert. In John's Gospel, as he talks with the Twelve at the Last Supper, he describes how that sense of God's Presence is still with him:
The hour is coming, indeed it has come, when you will be scattered, each one to his home, and you will leave me alone. Yet I am not alone because the Father is with me. (John 16:32)
How can we come to have this sense of God's Presence in our lives? How can we who strive to follow Jesus follow him in this way, as well?
We can do so in community. The Apostle John, in his first catholic epistle, said that we learn to love God whom we cannot see by loving our brothers and sisters whom we can see. (1 John 4:20) In the same way, we learn to appreciate the companionship of God, the comfort of the Holy Spirit, the protection of the Father, through experiencing the companionship, comfort, and protection of our brothers and sisters in the People of God. This is, perhaps, why God enjoined celebration and companionship upon his people.
In the Book of Deuteronomy, they are told to gather together to celebrate annually their liberation from Egypt, and this celebration and companionship is to reach beyond their own families and communities and embrace the alien, the stranger, and the foreigner who may also be dwelling in their land. (Deut. 26:11)
A modern poet once wrote a love song in which he thanked his beloved for that gift. I won't try to sing the song for you, but these are the lyrics:
You have brought me solitude,
And I believe it is the time
for me to show some gratitude.
I think I'll take a minute
to reflect upon your attitude,
But most of all I love the way
that you have brought me solitude.
You have been a friend to me,
And I believe it is the time
for me to show some sympathy.
I watch the way you suffer
with the problems only I can see,
But most of all I love the way
that you have been a friend to me.
You have been misunderstood,
And I believe it is the time
for you to feel the way you should.
I'd love to see you smile a while
and know that you were feeling good,
But mostly I regret the way
that you have been misunderstood.
You have been a friend to me,
And I believe it is the time
for me to show some sympathy.
I watch the way you suffer
with the problems only I can see,
But most of all I love the way
that you have been a friend to me.
You have brought me solitude,
you have brought me solitude ...
Surprisingly enough, that was written by Frank Zappa for his wife Gale (circa 1975). As far as I know, it is the only love song he ever composed.
Loneliness is destructive. Solitude is creative. Pablo Picasso, the great Spanish painter, once remarked, "Without great solitude no serious work is possible." Frances Steloff, the famous New York bookseller, voiced a similar thought when she said, "You need solitude if you are going to fulfill your promises."
Jesus found the energy and Spirit to fulfill his promise in solitude. May each of us, as we make our occasional journeys through the places of alone-ness, find them experiences not of discouraging loneliness but of fertile solitude. Amen.
posted by Father Eric | 4:08 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home