A few weeks ago, I woke up with words and numbers imprinted on the insides of my eyelids. Okay, I was writing with drama, but these words were stuck in my head. That doesn’t happen to me. I was dubious that they could have any true meaning for my life. Ready to ignore them, I rolled out of bed and did the things that I do first in the morning. Try not to run into the wall as I walk down the hallway to the bathroom.
But Curiosity.
When I returned to my room, I grabbed my kindle, flicking open the cover, and tapped in my code, unlocking the screen and my library of eBooks. Tap. Open the book. Tap. Open the Table of Contents. Tap. 1 Thessalonians. Tap. 1 Thessalonians 4. Drag. 1 Thessalonians 4:11.
Oh, hey, it is a real verse.
“and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you,“
I’m not a theologian. I’m more interested in the way words are lined up, chosen, and the meaning of them. What struck me about this Bible verse is the fact that it’s a verse smack in the center of a sentence. By reading just verse 11, we don’t see the beginning or the end of the sentence.
Why would I wake up with this random Bible reference in my head? (no, I haven’t been reading Thessalonians, and no, I’ve not talked about this book with anyone recently.) But more, why would it be just this verse and not the entire sentence at least?
Huh. Could it be that this middle-of-the-sentence advice might connect in some way to this middle-of-the-journey-not-quite-there-yet life? After all, I’m in the middle here and I can’t see the true beginning nor can I make out the end. What’s your view like from across the computer screen? Anything?
So let’s zoom out a bit more.
“But we urge you, brothers, to do this more and more, 11 and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, 12 so that you may walk properly before outsiders and be dependent on no one.“
Upfront. This sentence doesn’t seem to have any hidden meaning. It’s straight forward and practical. Benjamin Franklin could have been just as likely to have written it as say Paul or any other well-known ancient.
But do what more and more?
Zoom out farther by reading the entire chapter.
More and more. “…you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another…”
The chapter is entitled A Life Pleasing to God.
All the pieces seem to fall into place in my mind. Does your mind follow all these connections, too, or have I left too many holes as I’ve glued thoughts together?
I may have.
But here’s what I’m mulling over. In a social media intoxicated age where the goal is to gain as many followers as possible and create a brand and market yourself and ideas, how often are you urged to live quietly? Where the goal is to push yourself farthest ahead into the front and center of celebrities, how often are you encouraged to mind your own affairs? Where the dream is to be your own boss, not get your hands dirty, and build a kingdom of wealth so you can retire early, how often do you hear to work with your hands as instructed?
And to love one another more and more.
Aspire to live quietly.
Standing only a few steps into 2016, are you thinking what I’m thinking? That maybe the key to living this new year well is not loads of impossible resolutions but rather to aspire to live quietly.
To the Pacemaker of the Galaxies,
Is it really so simple to live a life pleasing to you? But what I don’t get is how simple can be so hard. I like the idea of a quiet life, but I’m afraid of being bored or becoming boring.
How do I live a quiet life?