One of the most arresting lines in the Psalms is in 46:10, “Be still and see that I am God.” The verbs in Latin are memorable: vacate et videte. As these are plural imperatives it seems to be a command that applies to everyone. And it begins with a demanding prerequisite for vision: that we be still.
But what really is this commanding? We might well feel like the active child whose parents say, “Be still!” What exactly am I supposed to do right now? Just stop doing the stuff I’ve been doing? Then what? I suggest that here we come to a central truth and corresponding challenge in human life: all the most important things in life require that we actively clear a space for them. And further, we won’t discover these things, and learn how to do and enjoy them, until we make the space for them.
Part of the problem is that if we don’t have a sense of what we’re clearing space for, it’s hard to make the effort to do it. Then there’s the other part of the problem: there is so much already going on (seemingly without our even choosing it)—necessary and good things, as well as the whole range from unnecessary but enjoyable, to frivolous and banal, to downright evil or destructive. For many of us the issue is that even apart from bad things to be avoided, our time seems filled by obligations on the one hand and reasonable diversions on the other.
So what are we to make of the command ‘to vacate’ a space? First of all, we can recognize the point of it, namely, That I might see. We are made for vision, and we all live in varying degrees of blindness. Socrates held that the greatest blindness is blindness to our blindness. Perhaps we only really begin to realize what we don’t know when we clear a space for seeing, starting with very concrete spaces of time in our day.
But it would be easier, we say, if could already see and taste what we’re clearing the space for! Yes, it might be easier; yet easier is not always better. We have the testimony of the wise that there is something waiting for us, if we but clear a space. Much more, we have the command of God. And blessed are those who have not yet seen, but believe. And so obey.
The fascinating verb vacare lends itself to various translations centering around the notion of being ‘empty’ or ‘void.’ It thus can mean to be ‘free’ for something, precisely because one is free from other things. (It is, by the way, closely connected to the all important notion of leisure.) We can reasonably then take the command to mean we should set aside the host of cares and other things holding our attention so that you can be free (free at last!) to soar where your soul is made to soar.
We can start with the simplest of baby steps: clearing a few, or even just one reasonable space in the day to be alone, to be quiet, and so to meditate, and even contemplate. Thomas Aquinas says the main reason to clear a space is so as to contemplate the truth. No reason to be afraid of the word, or the reality. We can just start. We’ll never know what’s there to be seen until we go there. And try to see it.
For most of us this will be quick flashes of light in our busy day. But lo, by a very deep magic, the light from those moments will more and more bathe the other parts of our day. And that we began by obeying even when we didn’t see, will show itself to be a gift; as will countless other things in our life. ~ ~ ~
Announcing LIFECRAFT DAY AT THE BARN: HUSBANDRY AND WIFERY: RECLAIMING THE PRACTICAL ARTS FOR A FLOURISHING HOUSEHOLD. Join us in the Shenandoah Valley June 29th for talks, fellowship and great food! INFORMATION AND REGISTRATION
SIXTY SECOND GARDEN UPDATE:
NEW PODCAST EPISODE #5: WHEN AND HOW TO TALK TO YOUR CHILDREN ABOUT CHASTITY AND DATING. Join Sofia and me for perhaps our most animated discussion yet at The Intentional Household: A LifeCraft Podcast.
Husband, father, and professor of Philosophy. LifeCraft springs from one conviction: there is an ancient wisdom about how to live the good life in our homes, with our families; and it is worth our time to hearken to it. Let’s rediscover it together. Learn more.
