The Discipline of Slow

The discipline of slow is countercultural to the bone. The world we have built rewards quick. Quick replies. Quick decisions. Quick pivots. The slow person is, by every metric of the productivity gospel, falling behind.

And yet. 'Be still, and know that I am God.' The verb is imperative. The stillness is commanded. It is not optional. It is not a suggestion for the contemplative few. It is the soil in which the knowing grows. There is no other soil.

If you cannot be still, you cannot know God. You can know about Him. You can read books. You can tweet verses. You can attend conferences. But the kind of knowing that changes a life — the slow, deep, encountered knowing — that one only comes in the stillness. Schedule the stillness. Defend it. The world will tell you that you cannot afford to be slow. The world is, in this matter as in many others, mistaken.

The pattern is older than we are. The grace is older than the pattern. We come to it not as students at the head of the class but as children at the foot of a long table, where the meal has been ready for a while and the chair has always been waiting for us. Sit. Receive what has already been given. The day will be longer than you think, and the bread will be enough.