The world is filled with distractions. If I want to cultivate the fruit of the Spirit – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control – then inevitably distractions will arise that make attaining such virtues seemingly impossible. It is my desire to become a person who radiates the aroma of Christ, someone who is patient and evokes peace in the midst of turmoil. It is my assumption that to acquire such a disposition I need lots of quiet time for prayer and contemplation.

Yet when I try to find such quiet places I am constantly met with disruptions. An emergency arises in the congregation that requires my attention. I find some quiet time in the morning when my three month old son or three year old daughter wake up far too early. Or if I do find some uninterrupted time I am too exhausted from the day’s activities to focus on anything of value. As much as I would like to quiet my soul and wait for the Lord in silence (Psalm 62), the world is filled with noise.

It is easy in these moments to blame those around me for distracting me from this important work. This can lead to resentment of those I love the most. It also moves me further from the goal which is to radiate the aroma of Christ and be a presence of peace amidst the chaos, not to practice the spiritual disciplines.

This is when I remember that the virtues in which I seek to acquire are not the fruit of my meditation and discipline, they are the fruit of the Spirit.  The noise and distractions are a reminder of my need for grace. I am incapable of growing these virtues within me. The Spirit must do the work. And this work is done not in spite of the distractions but even through if not because of the distractions.

Perhaps we have “over-spiritualized” the spiritual disciplines. The word “spiritual” has been hijacked by (mostly) well meaning people and taken in a direction it has no business going. We have separated the “spiritual” from the practical and mundane. Thus we think of spiritual disciplines and think of prayer, meditation, fasting, reading the scriptures, and so on. These are good and helpful practices and I have nothing disparaging to say against them. Do them and do them often, whether you feel like it or not. But cleaning the kitchen is not any less a spiritual discipline than fasting.

When I fast, I temporarily deprive myself of food to be reminded that I do not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from God. When I clean the kitchen I am reminded that Christ came not to be served but to serve. Thus cleaning the kitchen is not a distraction from the spiritual disciplines, it is a spiritual discipline and an opportunity for the Spirit to grow fruit in my life.

My meditation does not end when I go to change my son’s diaper or put my daughter back in bed. Rather, caring for my child becomes part of the meditation and an opportunity for the Spirit to grow fruit within me. When a community member angrily airs his grievances with me, my prayer does not end. This moment gives me an opportunity to pray for this man and respond to his anger with mercy. The distractions are not salt poured into the garden of my soul, they are fertilizer. Fertilizer always carries an unpleasant odor. It is not used because it is pleasurable or desirable but because it is necessary. Perhaps to gain the aroma of Christ, one must first learn to welcome the aroma of manure.

Is this not precisely what Jesus does? Jesus does not remove himself from the unpleasant circumstances of life but immerses himself fully in them. He moves towards the sick and the angry, the despised and unwanted – he moves towards those things that I am tempted to think of as distractions.

So why do I seek out spaces for quiet prayer, reading, and meditation? Because I know my soul deeply needs these things. But also because I wish to create space to encounter the Spirit. Sometimes I may encounter the Spirit in the much needed silent break from a noisy world. Sometimes I encounter the Spirit in the reading of a good book, or in a scriptures passage, or in praying a psalm. But I can also encounter the Spirit in a crying child who needs comfort, or in an angry neighbor, or in an unpleasant accident. If I enter into these spaces without an agenda other than an encounter with the Spirit of the living God, then even the moments of distraction can be spiritual disciplines.