Solitude or Isolation?

“The little child grew up and became strong in spirit. He lived in lonely places until the day came for him to show himself to Israel.” Luke 1:80

Last Sunday I mentioned the dangers of living in isolation. Things become intensified and magnified when we cut ourselves off from others for too long. If we tend to be fearful, our personal segregation may make us even more paranoid. If we tend to think too highly of ourselves, isolation can result in a greater conceit. We have no human interaction to provide the normal checks upon our inner fears or haughtiness.

At the taco dinner served following that morning’s service a lady showed me the notes she had taken, saying that there were good things about being alone as well. I was quick to agree and her point was well-taken. I think it can be summed up in two words: isolation and solitude.

John the Baptist practiced solitude. He found the quiet of the “lonely places” helped him become better acquainted with God. As the woman at church said, “Sometimes I need to get alone to get my thoughts together.” She needed solitude to keep the everyday noises from drowning the quieter voice of God.

I think modern society has produced great isolation and not nearly enough real solitude. In a greater degree than before we have the opportunity to work at home. Or we commute to work with people we never see outside of work. If we attend a large church we may not have real connections outside of scheduled weekly services. Families live farther apart and move more often than ever before. The chance for life-long friendship is almost a thing of the past.

I hope this is merely an observation of our culture and not someone longing for the “good old days”. I swore when I turned 50 I would never become one of those who always looked back and wondered how the world functioned “today” when things were so much better “yesterday”. Mother Teresa commented that the western world has a poverty, not of money, but of real relationships. We go through life without many relationships that go much deeper than the surface.

A few years ago I wrote for the weekly newspaper in our town. For Veteran’s Day I was assigned a story about a man who had served in Viet Nam. I was told to go gently, he had some experiences which had greatly affected him, and he might clam up if I were to probe too much. The paper wanted highlights, not an in-depth report.

I called and set up an appointment. When I stopped by his house he welcomed me, and we sat at the dining table, just two men; nearly a generation apart. He began to tell me his story and where he was stationed. He brought out his old uniform, and he laughed when I asked if he could still fit into it.

That was the first fifteen minutes. I spent another hour with him. I do not remember exactly how it happened, and it may have been because he knew I was also a pastor, but before the first half hour was up he was spilling out his heart to me. He told me things that he had told no one. “I haven’t even shared these with my wife,” he told me. The tears flowed, and I saw a man who had suffered isolation for years, even having good friends and a supportive wife. He was afraid how people would receive him and his heartbreaking stories.

John the Baptist practiced solitude. Isolation often enables us to hide our hearts from others. Solitude is meant to produce exactly the opposite. As we are alone, just our thoughts and God, we encounter the choices between continuing to hide who we are, or open ourselves to the God who already sees. Solitude teaches us to stop hiding.

Our solitude may be fifteen minutes during the morning, a day during the work week, or even several days in which we get away alone, and let God speak to our hearts. Solitude always has and endpoint, isolation seems to go on forever. Solitude invites God to open our heart, isolation is a way to hide out from God and others.

As we learn that it is safe to be open with God, we receive others with more grace. As we see people like my Veteran friend, we become welcome hearers whose only role is to let people tell their stories with acceptance. People need validation that their story was ok, that they will not be rejected or abandoned because of something they consider too dark or hurtful to share.

Having spent time in the “lonely places” John the Baptist could be truly “on point” as he started his ministry. In that solitude he learned what many of us only learn second-hand. We learn “about” God, but He knew God Himself. Perhaps a bit of solitude would teach us all a little more about who God truly is.