Continuing from “Obeying God by Doing Less”, from the book “The Power of Stillness”:
While the idea of the Sabbath as a retreat may sound inspiring, as anyone with children knows, there are sometimes special ninja moves required just to get through church! Like many families, ours have often taken for granted that kids need “something to do” during church. Despite an abundance of crayons, books and snacks, however the kids in one of our families were so irritable and noisy in Sacrament one Sunday that we started wondering whether the very things designed to occupy them in church was having an opposite effect: reinforcing distraction and inattention.
So we tried an experiment: What would happen if we didn’t bring all the extra stimulation to church with us? All of a sudden we saw our children sitting, Uncomfortably—obviously wanting the distractions back—but slowly learning to be okay without constant stimulation’ getting better and better at resting in stillness.
Sometimes, of course, the kids just won’t settle, and that’s part of the practice too. After one challenging Sunday Carrie wrote: Kids. Interrupt, Every. Two. Seconds. They don’t care if you’re sick, if you’re busy, if you’ve got an important deadline, if you’re really in the flow of what you are doing. . .they do not care. And they don’t care if the sacrament is supposed to be Mom’s quiet meditation time with Jesus. But meditation is not about uninterrupted laser focus. It’s a cyclical process of getting distracted, catching the distraction, and coming back to awareness—which helps me not lose my mind during the sacrament: “Mom, cheerios fell all over the floor.” “Mom, make me a paper airplane.” “Mom, I want to sit next to you, Kevin won’t let me sit next to you, scoot OVER KEVIN!” “Mom, Dad is asleep.” “Mom, why did Jesus die anyway?”
Of course, this kind of distractibility is not limited to just kids!
Sunday Worship as a Sitting Practice We’ve all experienced it: sitting in church, listening to the speaker—and having our minds wander.
Don’t we sometimes assume that our obligation is simply to soldier on, trying to do our duty—even though it’s hard and, well, “I’m not getting much out of this.” We may also get irritated about our boredom or critical of the speaker, doing our best to listen some more until our attention wanders again.
Interestingly enough this is one of the core skills taught in mindfulness training. Rather than somehow getting the mind to stop, it’s about noticing when your attention has wandered and then gently, compassionately escorting the mind back to an anchor point—usually the breath or body (in this case, the speaker). Then repeat.
Physical sensations in the breath or body as a whole aren’t necessarily “exciting” either—but they don’t need to be, in order to anchor mindfulness practice. And Latter-day Saint worship, with its simple, unadorned operations, provides another great opportunity for intensive regular mindfulness practice. More so, in fact, than if it were dramatically entertaining. Christian leader Parisa Parsa notes, “Church services are one or the last places left to gather for non-commercial reasons not centered on entertainment.”7
Again and again we bring our attention back to the talk, the words of prayer, and the music. The placement of hymns right before prayer creates a unique opportunity to steady and calm our minds for what comes next.
Rather being only spectators, of course, everyone has the chance to share, be heard and grow among the Saints. That means we all get practice listening to common people who are often unpolished, and we learn to hold a loving, forgiving space for each other as brothers and sisters.
In a recent combined priesthood meeting one of us walked in to find thirty-five men in rapt attention to the speaker: Not a single cellphone was out. These men who could have been watching football at home were all listening carefully to another plain-spoken brother counseling them on how to become better husbands and fathers. I had a clear sense that I was watching something remarkable.
We’ve also noticed a difference in our conversations at church when we approach the interaction as an opportunity to practice meditation, with the anchor being the person with whom we’re speaking. When we bring a full, calm presence to the small interactions with our brothers and sisters, whether shaking hands and catching up or coordinating administrative objectives, we find ourselves better connecting with people, even though words exchanged are no different from before.
These are things we practice every week as members of the Church: quiet presence and compassionate attention.~Jacob Z. Hess, Carrie L. Skarda, Kyle D. Anderson, Ty R. Mansfield. The Power of Stilllness (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 2019) p.30-33 (continued with “Our Most Precious Mindful Practice”)
