Isaiah 30:15
"In returning and rest shall ye be saved; in quietness and confidence shall be your strength."

Mark 4:39
"And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, 'Peace, be still.' And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm."

Psalm 23:2-3
"He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul."

In the Pacific Ocean is a region known as the equatorial belt of calm, or more simply, the doldrums. Trade winds originating in the northeast and southeast do not flow across the equator, but rise up and fall back again toward the poles, leaving a buffer zone between the two systems. Here only light, variable winds blow, but at times the air remains perfectly still for weeks on end and the sea like glass. Wedged between the massive whirls of ocean currents circulating above and below, this band of still waters is an area of low pressure but high tension, as enormous forces pull away in opposite directions. An abundance of solar radiation heats up the ocean surface, while overhead a solid canopy of clouds presses relentlessly down, locking in the warm, moist air, like a heavy blanket on a hot summer's night.

In olden days, sailing ships used to become trapped in the dreaded doldrums, and those on board would never know when they would be released or what would become of them. The vessels would drift along aimlessly until some stray wind finally caught the sails, propelling them slowly out of the region, or until a furious typhoon suddenly whipped the sea into a foaming frenzy, tossing them perilously about. While waiting for an end to their misery, sailors had to endure the oppressive heat and humidity, as well as the changeless sea and sky, day after day, night after night. Distressed by crushing headaches, profuse sweating, and frazzled nerves, some men apparently lost their sanity and even committed suicide rather than endure the unbearable, interminable calm.

How different is the peace of God! In heartfelt prayer and quiet meditation, we enter a place of absolute stillness, which is neither oppressive nor foreboding, but enriching, soul stirring, and deeply satisfying. The still point lies in the center of the sea of tranquillity, fed by streams of living water. Here we feel a gentle warmth emanating from His Being, which radiates through the surface of our lives to the innermost core, soothing rough edges, healing wounds, building up protective layers of strength and confidence, stimulating growth, and providing encouragement.

Then, as we slip even deeper below the surface of the water, into the darkness, into the silence, we may gradually begin to recognize the marvelous colors, exquisite sounds, and harmonious flow of a mysterious world that is so unlike the one above. In this realm, imagination and intuition take precedence over thinking, and feeling over form. Here in the depths, we feel fully alive yet completely at peace. Our souls are filled with rapture and overcome by joy.

Even so, we would not linger in the stillness forever. For the ultimate aim of our journey to the depths is not personal fulfillment, release from suffering, or resolution of conflict, though we may savor these. Rather, the goal is spiritual transformation, a kind of death by water followed by a rebirth, in order that we may realign ourselves more closely with God's will and return to our daily lives with fresh energy, a more hallowed vision, greater compassion, and a renewed commitment to serve.

Lord, we thank You for the gift of prayer -- the privilege of entering into communion with You. May we learn to be still in Your presence, not so much that we may receive Your blessings, but that we may become Your servants. Amen

Contributed by Diane S.
Published Monday September 29, 2003
Week 44 of Liturgical Year B