Naked Walking

It’s called “naked walking” or “naked running” and it’s not what you think it is, but I got your attention, didn't I?

It means taking a walk or going for a run free from any tech.  No AirPods in your ears, no music, no distractions.

Made popular by Generation Z influencers, it is also called “silent walking.”

Or, as a recent New York Post article pointed out, those of us in older generations might simply call it … walking.

But no matter which generation you belong to, no matter how old you are, all of us seem to recognize that we live in a world filled with constant noise and distractions.

Have you ever turned down the radio in your car so you could see better?

Have you ever, like I have, turned down the radio in the car so you can concentrate only to realize the radio is already off and the noise you’re trying to escape is the constant noise that seems to fill our heads these days?  We can’t even quiet our own brains.

There is a reason, after all, that I do a lot of my writing in the middle of the night.

There is a reason that companies are bringing back good old-fashioned word processors, so that writers can write without the distraction of the internet being a click away.

There is a reason why so-called “dumb phones,” meant to curb screentime with limited internet connectivity, are making a comeback.

And there is a reason that I take most of my walks as soon as the sun comes up.  I don’t want to smell the diesel fumes.  I don’t want to hear the pounding and thumping of the roadwork down the block.  I want to catch the faint whiff of honeysuckle.  I want to give the bluejay space to eat his cracker.  I want to freeze like a deer frozen in headlights … when I see a deer frozen in front of me just down the sidewalk.  I want to hold my breath, too afraid any movement might startle the deer and end this perfect moment.  After all, I have watched this particular deer since he was a spotted fawn, and now he has grown his first antlers. 

I want to see things that take your breath away.

I want to appreciate the stillness of the day before the chaos of the day begins.

I want to inhabit—I want to live in those moments when my brain is silent and still.

I want to center myself and root myself firmly in God’s creation, because it is only through this practice that I have any hope of sifting through all the noise that follows and discerning God’s voice in it.

It is in 1 Kings 19:12, in the King James Version where we first hear mention of God speaking in a “still, small voice.”  Just before that, Elijah goes up to the mountain to wait for God.  And while he is waiting there is a great wind, but the Lord was not in the wind we are told.  And then there was an earthquake and then a fire, but the Lord was not in those either.

It is only after all of that noise and turmoil and upheaval that Elijah hears that still, small voice.

But one thing that may get overlooked in all this is what had to happen to Elijah in order for him to be in a place mentally and spiritually to hear that voice.

Remember that Elijah is on the run from Jezebel.  He is exhausted, existentially exhausted, and he sits under a juniper tree and begs God to take his life.  What happens next is one of the sweetest most loving examples of God’s love.  The angel of the Lord appears to Elijah twice, providing Elijah food and water and encouraging Elijah to eat, hydrate and rest.

Only then is Elijah in a place where he can hear God’s word.

And God’s word is not in the wind, not in the earthquake, and not in the fire.  Elijah has to filter all that out and lean in and listen for that still, small voice.

And what does God say to Elijah.  Does He say, “Good job, don’t worry about Jezebel!  You can retire in safety.  She won’t bother you anymore.  Go be a farmer.  Find a wife.  Have lots of kids.”

Nope.

Nor does God allow Elijah to do what Elijah initially asked for, which was to let Elijah die.

Instead, after allowing Elijah time to rest, God sends Elijah back to work.

Elijah’s work was not yet done.

Likewise, our work here is not yet done.

With all the noise of the world these days, sometimes it feels easier to just shut it all out.  We don’t try to hear God because it’s exhausting having to listen for Him, having to pick out His voice in a world where everyone seems to be yelling at you all the time.

I was pumping gas the other day and suddenly a voice came over the loudspeaker.  “Pump Four,” the voice screeched through the speaker, “you need to prepay at the pump or inside!”

My first thought was “Who is screaming at me?”  My next thought was, “Oh, wait I’m Pump Two.”  My third thought was, “Why does it seem like the world can’t stop screaming at us?”  I can’t even pump my gas in peace.

Who has the energy to pick through the cacophony to find God’s voice?

And that is why prayer is so important.  That is why grounding ourselves in God’s Kingdom is so important.  Because we have a job to do.  And the job doesn’t get finished if we give up on hearing God.

In today’s reading from 1 Samuel 12:1-6,16-25, Samuel says, “Moreover as for me, far be it from me that I should sin against the Lord by ceasing to pray for you; and I will instruct you in the good and the right way.”

Our job is not just to pray for ourselves but to pray for others.  Our job is not to cut ourselves off from a hurting world, but to engage with it, with the Holy Spirit speaking to our hearts the whole way.

Samuel does not equivocate with his words.  To stop praying for someone, to give up on someone, especially those who are a hot mess of sinfulness, is a sin itself, a sin against God. 

To pray for someone is to show love to someone, unconditional, Godly love.

But first—but first, we have to be discerning.  Who are we supposed to pray for?  What form does prayer take?  Is it silent meditation or is it something more actionable like standing up and refusing to be silent when the weak and the poor among us are made weaker and poorer by society itself.   Among the eight billion people in the world, who are we supposed to turn our attention to? 

We must listen.  We must be still. 

Perhaps we must even look back at Matthew 6:26 in a different way.

Jesus says, “Look at the birds of the air ….”

I can tell you as a birdwatcher that most birdwatchers, even the ones who don’t consider themselves particularly religious, would admit that birdwatching itself is something of a holy experience.  A lot of the time you don’t know what you’re looking for, but you’re there among the trees and you hold real still and even though everything around you is green, green, green, you look for that flash of color, that blue or red that belongs to a bluejay or a cardinal or both colors together in a painted bunting.  Or, if the tree itself is still, you look for movement and you zero in on it and you train your lens on it and you hope.

Or if you’re particularly skilled, you listen.  I once heard what I thought was water, like the sound a creek makes flowing over rocks.  I knew, though, there was no water nearby, so I followed the sound and found the Brown-headed Cowbird—my first encounter with one.  It is the cowbird that weirdly sounds like water.

And I know now whenever I hear that sound and there is no water nearby, it must be the cowbird.

This is how we connect with God, through practice and familiarity.  It’s how we find Him again and again, even when there are thousands of voices competing with His. 

This is prayer.  This is how we recognize God in the midst of life’s craziness.   

Amen.