Quiet Amidst the Noise

Ten years ago, on the fourth of July, my husband and I spent our first night in our new home: an off-grid yurt tucked in the quiet woodlands of western Maine.

We fell asleep to the rustling forest noises – animals going about their lives in the darkness, the gentle voice of the stream as it ran over sand and stones. When we woke, the crows were playing in the trees, rabbits breakfasted where soon our garden would grow, and my heart felt entirely at home. This woodland has been our little hermitage ever since, but I’ve never appreciated as much as I have this year.

2020 has floored us, hasn’t it? Too much of this ragged year is simply one soul-crushing attack after another. From the pandemic and its personal, economic, and emotional effects to boiling racial tensions to burning churches to political viciousness. How many of us have spent at least one day wallowing in anxiety and uncertainty?

For me, the blessing of the place has been a healing presence throughout the wild ride of 2020. Thus far, we’ve been able to root our feet in the cool earth and listen for the still, small voice of God. Like St. Elijah in the wilderness, we’ve been able to rest in the quiet, tune out the noise of the world, and build intimacy with our eternally hospitable God.

But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a broom tree..and behold, an angel touched him, and said to him “Arise and eat.” And he looked and behold, there was at his head a cake baked on hot stones and a jar of water.

St. Elijah’s Example

10 years ago, I never would have expected that a simple move into the woods would provide my family with precisely the community, solitude, and stability to help us weather this storm. But God’s unshakeable hospitality is amazing. During the past few months, I’ve felt like Elijah on the mountain as God continued to nourish my little family with the Bread of Life. As He did for Elijah, God wrapped the natural world around us in these dark times, whispering with His quiet voice as He comforted and blessed us.

But, like Elijah, we didn’t always listen. Sometimes the noise of the world is just too overwhelming. It’s easy to listen to fears when they’re clamoring all around us.

Finding quiet can be especially difficult if you’re still without consistent access to the Sacraments, if your parish has become a place that no longer feels welcoming, or if all you hear are the voices of fear speaking to you in your loneliness.

Elijah understands all too well the pain of our time. His feast day, on July 20^th, has traditionally been less of a celebration than a retreat. In Slavic folk tales, St. Elijah spends his feast day seeking out Satan wherever he might be hiding and striking him with lightning.

He doesn’t worry about damaging property or wounding bodies, his focus is entirely on rooting out evil. On his day, we light candles for him and then stay out of his way. Grim-faced, austere, and uncompromising, Elijah is the patron of thunderstorms, persecuted Christians, and the isolated or despairing. For those of us who have found deep loneliness in this stormy season, he is an ideal guide.

Moments of Renewal

How does Elijah inspire my own home life? Tucked under the trees as we are, my tiny family is able to imitate in a small way Elijah’s own retreat from the crowds. We’re avoiding the news as much as possible, fasting, praying, and rejuvenating. But we’re also baking cakes and welcoming strangers or friends to share long conversations and quiet evenings.

Hermitages are traditionally places of both healing and austerity. The world of fairy tales is full of wise old hermits welcoming the weary and giving them the quiet and care they need to revive. St. Elijah is one of the original hermits. Fed on bread and cakes by God in the wilderness, he is invited to soak up the deep silence of God and then bring it into the crowds again.

That stillness and silence is what we lack today. Listening to podcasts, watching the news, scrolling endlessly on our phones. We need to go out again with Elijah into the cave and heal.

In my family, Elijah’s day is a quiet, retreating time. We try to slow down and embrace silence in a deeper way. No phone, no busywork. With children and livestock, we have enough of the consistent tasks to keep this day focused and not slothful, but we also embrace the soft quiet that this day offers. Elijah is my son’s patron, so we’ll be celebrating a cozy name day with cakes, a bonfire, read-alouds, and walks in the woods. Phones off, candles lit.

Reviving Retreats, Finding Quiet

If you’re feeling the world buffeting you about this summer, and your mind is full of news stories or social media wars, consider taking a St. Elijah Day as well. His feast day is, of course, ideal, but don’t let that limit you. If you’re already committed on the 20th, pick a day near his feast and make a mini-retreat.

Creating a quiet day of retreat and renewal is easier in a woodland yurt, far from the noises of civilization, but it’s no less necessary. In our little, domestic hermitage, we still have to work to exclude the constant chatter of our noise-saturated world.

My own tendency is to think “as soon as all this is over”, as soon as my guests leave”, or “as soon as I have a week all to myself in peace and quiet – then I’ll begin.” But I’m learning that this is impossible. We begin each day, and life never waits.

Learning to give and receive hospitality is one of the great gifts St. Elijah is forever learning. In Russian folklore, Elijah is the saint most likely to be offended by neglect, his severity reminds us that our actions do have consequences.

When we neglect our duties to Christ and our fellow men, our inhospitality creates a gulf between us that only true repentance can repair. We have to carve out time to renew our intimacy with God and make space for that the hospitality God offers.

Use this time not only to refresh your mind, body, and soul; but to plan for the future as well, just as St. Elijah did on his mountain. Let God offer His hospitality to you. Let Him heal you, then listen as He says “What are you doing here..Go, return on your way..” and follow Him forward into the second half of this challenging year.