Our home in the hills has a feature that we take for granted, but I realize from our two weeks of vacation is quite uncommon. As I lay in my bed last night I was struck by the quietness of the place where we live. Granted, it wasn’t quiet two weeks ago during the annual Sturgis motorcycle rally. Last night, however, I lay in bed and listened to the quiet. There was an occasional car on the road behind the house that I could hear. That was about all. The neighborhood dogs were quiet for the night. There were no coyotes singing in the area. There is no stream with the music of water. Just quiet.

Quiet is a valuable thing in this often-noisy world.

That said, there is a difference between the natural sounds of this world and those made by humans. I know from my own experience that I have no trouble sleeping with the sounds of a river rushing by. Even a wild mountain stream rushing over rocks is a pleasant sound. Waking to bird calls is a wonderful way to begin a day. The songs of the coyotes is reassuring, not threatening.

The sounds made by humans have different qualities for us. The sounds of loved ones breathing is a joy and a gift. The sounds of children playing is an inspiration and delight. I’m sure that it isn’t everyone’s pleasure, but I grew up listening for the sounds of my father’s airplanes and I still enjoy hearing a light airplane fly overhead. I know that sounds of different engine and propellor combinations and the sounds of the old planes, with radial engines always gets my attention.

I’m sure that there are people who grew up loving the sound of trains. I think I have a neighbor who loves the sound of his motorcycle. People can become attached and acclimated to all kinds of sounds.

But quiet is a wonderful thing and much appreciated.

I know that it is one of the reasons that I rise early in the morning. Early is a time of quiet. There are few creatures stirring and the rush of the community is stilled. In quiet times I am able to think more clearly. And reflection and calm are important to the work that I do. Perhaps it is a bit of wisdom creeping into my life, or perhaps it is just what happens, but I’m a bit slower to spring into action these days. I need to think things through and get a sense of what is best before acting. It isn’t that I don’t trust my instincts and emotions, I just need to check them and make sure that they aren’t misleading me.

I know that I’m headed for a lot of intense emotion today. There have been two deaths in the congregation recently and I will be working with two families planning funeral services. Emotions run high in the rush of grief and every family is filled with complex relationships. The loss is real and each loss is unique. In the midst of grief people need support and understanding. My role is not to get emotionally engaged and create more complexity and chaos. On the other hand it is not to be distant and aloof, either. There is a balance of appropriate care and concern that can be helpful to the families that I serve.

One of the wonderful things about the church is that life goes on when I am on vacation. The church continues to serve people. Decisions continue to be made. Committees meet and decide. There is much about the life of the church that does not require my presence and participation. On the other hand, I have a unique role and perspective in the church and there are plenty of people who notice when I am gone.

There is a sense in which the covenant between pastor and congregation is constantly shifting and changing. Although my role is clearly defined - I will be preaching the sermon on Sunday - I am called to encourage the development of leadership in others, not provide all of the leadership that is needed. Sometimes I get that balance right, sometimes we need to make adjustments.

Having been gone also requires a certain amount of storytelling to reenter the community. There were lots of activities that occurred while I was gone. I will need to hear about the rummage sale. I will need to get reports about the lives of people in the community. I will need to hear about worship in my absence. I will need to hear about families and the adventures of their lives. And I will need to share some of my own experiences and stories as well.

These things require time and energy. Part of vacation is rest and preparation for the energy demands of returning to the regular work week. It won’t be long and we will be back full-swing into the routines of fall and church school and preparation for the coming of Advent. Time goes by quickly and there are plenty of things to occupy the time that we have.

So the quiet is doubly important. I can’t do everything. I can’t be everywhere. I need to maintain balance and make priorities. I need to be fully present to others for much of the day. And to do so I need to have taken time to be quiet with God. Listening is a critical skill. At this stage of my life I realize that listening to the quiet is also important.

I have lived a life of words. I am often the one to give the words to quiet moments. I pray out loud on occasions where there are no other words that can be said. I recite and read scripture when people have no words for the situations of their lives. I write and speak and make sense through the manipulation of words.

But in the balance of silence and speaking, silence is often the better part. Perhaps it is the silence that gives the power to the speaking.

I am grateful for the quiet.

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