I have an internal church calendar. Which is weird, because I did not grow up in a churchy family. We barely went to church, let alone observed the seasons of the church year. I couldn't have told you what or when Advent was. Pentecost? Uh, fire's cool...Ordinary Time? Yep, that happens pretty much every day. Lent was for Catholics.
Nonetheless, my body, in addition to being an excellent barometer of my mental state, runs on the church calendar. During Advent, I feel expectant in a way that has nothing to do with presents and Christmas trees. Around Pentecost, I get particularly adventurous. Ordinary Time is generally an even-keel time of slow and steady growth. And Lent, well...I feel Lenty.
So, even though the dates sort of snuck up on me this year, on a deeper level, I was all ready to be there. And there I am. Pensive, pained, repentant, reflective. Yep, it's Lent. It might be just the weather. It might be the circumstances. But I prefer to think that it's also liturgically attuned. And if I'm right about this, I have one thing to say:
May Easter come soon.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Further Thoughts on Sabbath
So, I've been thinking more about this Sabbath concept. I'm not sure most of us - myself included - really have a good grasp on what it means to have Sabbath. And yet, as much as Jesus did unexpected things on the Sabbath, he never said that we should stop having them. All indications are that he recognized and observed the Sabbath wholeheartedly. So...what does it mean for us to observe Sabbath?
The Sabbath we've set as the Church is Sunday. Sabbath is supposed to be a day of rest. But then we have professional clergy, who are clearly working even while we're worshiping. We're not the only ones working, either. If a congregation is at all functional, multiple people are working in a variety of ways to make sure that the building is clean and heated, the classes are taught, the bulletins are printed, the newcomers are welcomed, the regulars are checked in with, the sound system is on, the music is played, the offering is received and counted, etc. That's aside from all the things we all have to take care of in our personal lives, which don't stop just because it's Sunday. We're all still working on the Sabbath.
When I take another day of the week as Sabbath, that doesn't mean that I cease doing anything. Even provided that there is no church emergency on that day, I'm still doing things. Many of them even relate to church in one way or another. My days off are actually the times when I get the most fruitful ideas and visions for the church - because I've forced myself to step away from the daily hustle and the need to 'get something done.' God has slowed me down and given me space to listen. I think that's a big part of why we need Sabbath - not so we can lie around on the couch and vegetate (although that's kind of nice sometimes), but so we can consciously set aside our tasks and routines to make space for God.
Jesus didn't seem to think that the "day of rest" meant the "day of doing nothing." I'm not an advocate of a legalistic sort of Sabbath. But I do think it's a worthwhile discipline to cultivate, because of what it requires, and what it gives. It takes humility, a sense that we are not the hingepin of all existence - and it gives humility, by showing us that we are not the hingepin of all existence. It takes patience, the ability to slow down and spend less time doing and more time being - and it gives patience, by putting us in a slower mindset. We all need to take the time to allow God to fill us. We need sacred time.
Clearly Sabbath is a challenging sort of thing, because I've been trying to cultivate it as a discipline in my life for about 10 years now, and I'm still not very, well, disciplined about it. Anyway, there are people who have written on this topic much more articulately than I. Please, do yourself a favor. Read this book.
The Sabbath we've set as the Church is Sunday. Sabbath is supposed to be a day of rest. But then we have professional clergy, who are clearly working even while we're worshiping. We're not the only ones working, either. If a congregation is at all functional, multiple people are working in a variety of ways to make sure that the building is clean and heated, the classes are taught, the bulletins are printed, the newcomers are welcomed, the regulars are checked in with, the sound system is on, the music is played, the offering is received and counted, etc. That's aside from all the things we all have to take care of in our personal lives, which don't stop just because it's Sunday. We're all still working on the Sabbath.
When I take another day of the week as Sabbath, that doesn't mean that I cease doing anything. Even provided that there is no church emergency on that day, I'm still doing things. Many of them even relate to church in one way or another. My days off are actually the times when I get the most fruitful ideas and visions for the church - because I've forced myself to step away from the daily hustle and the need to 'get something done.' God has slowed me down and given me space to listen. I think that's a big part of why we need Sabbath - not so we can lie around on the couch and vegetate (although that's kind of nice sometimes), but so we can consciously set aside our tasks and routines to make space for God.
Jesus didn't seem to think that the "day of rest" meant the "day of doing nothing." I'm not an advocate of a legalistic sort of Sabbath. But I do think it's a worthwhile discipline to cultivate, because of what it requires, and what it gives. It takes humility, a sense that we are not the hingepin of all existence - and it gives humility, by showing us that we are not the hingepin of all existence. It takes patience, the ability to slow down and spend less time doing and more time being - and it gives patience, by putting us in a slower mindset. We all need to take the time to allow God to fill us. We need sacred time.
Clearly Sabbath is a challenging sort of thing, because I've been trying to cultivate it as a discipline in my life for about 10 years now, and I'm still not very, well, disciplined about it. Anyway, there are people who have written on this topic much more articulately than I. Please, do yourself a favor. Read this book.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Sabbath
In my life, today is Sabbath. One day out of seven on which God asks and allows me to set aside my labors. One day out of seven for rest. One day out of seven to remember that the world goes on without my efforts.
That last part is particularly necessary. Most pastors have an overdeveloped sense of our own significance anyway, and the structures and attitudes of churches often reinforce this by placing us in the position of central importance in a congregation. The ministry of ministers is important, of course, and I don't intend to take that lightly or shirk the responsibility of the role. But it's good for us, I think, to be reminded that the church will not collapse if we wait until tomorrow to respond to that email, or if we're not there to take that phone call. Even God rested.
The weird part of the Sabbath rest of a pastor is that it doesn't usually coincide with anyone else's day off. In some ways, this makes it even easier to see exactly how well the world goes on without us. In other ways, it waves the temptation right in our faces to give up the idea of rest and join in the forward rush of work.
I'm not very good at resisting that temptation, but today I'm trying. But none of this is what I intended to write. My brain at rest is a meandering thing.
The point I intended to make is that today is my Sabbath, and I really wish there was a worship service for me to attend. I am desperately longing today to be part of a faith community joined together in worship - and not to be responsible for leading any part of that service. That's not to say that I don't worship while I'm working; I do. But it's different. Today, I'd really like to join my voice with other believers without worrying about having chosen an unsingable hymn. Today, I'd really like to sit back with my eyes closed and hear Scripture read, rather than reading it. Today I'd really like it if there was someone who would call me to turn from sin and toward God. Today I would really like it if there was someone who would offer me Good News.
I think that part of being a pastor well is being able to find a slightly different way to drink from the Fountain: learning to fall into Scripture without someone else to bring us to it, learning to hear as well as speak our words of conviction and Good News, discovering the writings of other preachers and thinkers who can offer us wisdom, correction, and comfort. Even so, sometimes I just want a face and a voice.
That last part is particularly necessary. Most pastors have an overdeveloped sense of our own significance anyway, and the structures and attitudes of churches often reinforce this by placing us in the position of central importance in a congregation. The ministry of ministers is important, of course, and I don't intend to take that lightly or shirk the responsibility of the role. But it's good for us, I think, to be reminded that the church will not collapse if we wait until tomorrow to respond to that email, or if we're not there to take that phone call. Even God rested.
The weird part of the Sabbath rest of a pastor is that it doesn't usually coincide with anyone else's day off. In some ways, this makes it even easier to see exactly how well the world goes on without us. In other ways, it waves the temptation right in our faces to give up the idea of rest and join in the forward rush of work.
I'm not very good at resisting that temptation, but today I'm trying. But none of this is what I intended to write. My brain at rest is a meandering thing.
The point I intended to make is that today is my Sabbath, and I really wish there was a worship service for me to attend. I am desperately longing today to be part of a faith community joined together in worship - and not to be responsible for leading any part of that service. That's not to say that I don't worship while I'm working; I do. But it's different. Today, I'd really like to join my voice with other believers without worrying about having chosen an unsingable hymn. Today, I'd really like to sit back with my eyes closed and hear Scripture read, rather than reading it. Today I'd really like it if there was someone who would call me to turn from sin and toward God. Today I would really like it if there was someone who would offer me Good News.
I think that part of being a pastor well is being able to find a slightly different way to drink from the Fountain: learning to fall into Scripture without someone else to bring us to it, learning to hear as well as speak our words of conviction and Good News, discovering the writings of other preachers and thinkers who can offer us wisdom, correction, and comfort. Even so, sometimes I just want a face and a voice.
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