Church Stopping: God of Wonder

(Photo from freeimages.com # 1404961)

You may freely eat of every tree of the garden; 

but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that  you eat of it you shall die. (Genesis 2:17)

For one whole year were were a fallow field, resting, listening, waiting, fermenting. We put up a bulletin board - a big one - with dayglow orange and chartreuse letters saying, "People with a Passion for Jesus".  If somebody had a nudge from the Spirit or a passion they's write it out and post it on on the board and if somebody else wanted to join in that with them they's sign their names. I, frankly, didn't think it would work for a minute. I was wrong. People signed up for all kinds of things - people who'd never worded on a committee or done anything. I kept having to sit back and trust God to run the church because I didn't have a clue about what was going on. (Pastor David Digby in A Concise Compendium of "The Ames Story"

It really isn't that big of a deal, is it? We don't really die after all when we reach for the tree of knowledge of good and evil...do we? Our hearts keep beating. Our lungs keep breathing. Our blood keeps pumping. So why does God make such a big deal about the tree of knowledge of good and evil anyway? Isn't knowledge...especially of good and evil...a good thing?

These are all questions I have asked of the Fall.  After all, I like knowledge.  Maybe you do to. I like to know what I am doing and why and with what results.  And there are a lot of things I know and there are a lot of things you know...we delight in knowing. We know praise and worship music. We know high-church liturgy. We know that we are right on a particular theological or social justice issue.  We know who has the authority to preach and serve communion and baptize.  

And this Room of Knowing in which we live is not a bad place.  It is just small.  There is a library in the corner with a book we have read again and again. Again, we reach for the knowledge we know so well and die to the wonder of what we don't.

The Unknown Country, just outside the Room of Knowing, is vast and full of wonder. It is a land wild and free, and sometimes fierce; where Jesus walks on water and prophets run for their lives. It is a place where axe heads float and herds of pigs rush into the sea.  It is a place where the dead are raised and the the mountains quake and the sea monsters roll. This is the place where the dying believe and the child plays by the cobra's den and the lion lies down with the lamb.  This is a place where Santa still makes his midnight ride and God still whispers that some day, and some day soon, and in some way that we cannot plan or coerce or program, they will no longer hurt or destroy in all His holy mountain and the knowledge of God will be like oxygen-completely filling the earth and quickening our hearts.  

I'm not suggesting that the church operate from the seats of our pants.  I'm not suggesting that we don't plan and meet and figure out how to do all things well.  I'm just suggesting that maybe, sometimes, we stop, put down that book and reach for the door.  Let us venture out where we "don't have a clue what is going on" and see what God might be up to.

Church Stopping. Less Doing. More Being.

Church Stopping: Job Site or Candlelight?

(Photo from www.freeimages.com #1569226)

I know all the things you do. I have seen your hard work and your patient endurance. I know you don’t tolerate evil people. You have examined the claims of those who say they are apostles but are not. You have discovered they are liars. You have patiently suffered for me without quitting.

But I have this complaint against you. You have forgotten your first love!  (Revelation 2:2-4)

Churches need sabbaticals as much as individuals. Spiritual stagnation deepens in the soil of freneticism. A congregational sabbatical can be a time for nurturing spiritual roots, a time for slowing down and taking the time to listen, to pray, and to learn. But it means just what it says--taking a sabbatical from the routine and schedules that define a church's life. The usual work of committees and departments is suspended, especially the development of programs. Only the bare essentials to keep the machinery going are maintained during sabbatical time. The governing body can attend to necessary business but this, too needs to be kept at a minimum. Established groups, such as church school classes, women's and men's groups should also be involved in sabbatical time, either by choosing not to meet or focusing their time on prayer an study. The point is to step away from customary activity. Renewal will not occur if the old routine is maintained. it would be like a teacher taking a sabbatical but continuing to teach  It is the break form routine that helps to create the space for something new to emerge. (Reclaiming Evangelism, Jan G. Linn)

It was during my continuing education at the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary I kept reading about the benefits of sabbath and sabbatical...not just as individuals, but as congregations. There wasn't a lot specifically written about church sabbatical, but there was enough to keep me hunting. It was as if I had discovered gold in the bottom of my pan; it was new, it sparkled, and there had to be more of it if I just kept looking!

At the time, I was serving a little church that ran as much on elbow grease than it did on prayer. It was a church that valued a solid work ethic sometimes more than a solid soteriology.   I knew that sabbatical was what we needed to get past our good work and become reacquainted with our first love.

Oh! We knew the value of a job well done. We enjoyed the praise of our peers.  We knew that our work was God's work, however, we weren't moving forward.  We were losing steam. We found our palms a little thick and our souls a little thin. We found that we had fallen out of love.

It is easy to do in any relationship.  Instead of a wonder-filled romance, we become a good team. We drive the kids to soccer and we mow the lawn and we do the laundry...and we do all these things because we love the people we serve.  After all, we are good Ephesians. We work hard and endure patiently.  Sometimes, we burn the midnight oil but we never quit and, sadly, we forget our first love.

"What happened?" we ask.  "How did we get here?" The answer is found in the middle of our good intentions. There we discover that we are so busy working that we forget that Jesus is out in the front room with Mary at his feet, just waiting for us.  But we simply don't have time. There is just too much to be done. (Luke 10:38-42)

Or is there?

While it is true, even in our smallest churches, that there is always a project that needs to be done and there is always a position that needs to be filled, is our inability to stop an unspoken declaration that the church has become an unrelenting task masker of our own design?  Or is our sabbath resistance the piercing revelation that our faith is simply not strong enough to let God sustain us...not even for a year...while we sit at His feet and fall in love again?

Church Stopping. Less doing. More being.

  

Community Sabbath (Week Six): Kake, AK

(World's largest totem pole and Tlingit woman in Kake, AK.  Photo from TripAdvisor)

"Return, O my soul, to your rest; for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you." (Psalm 116:7)

In the summer of 2000, my wife and I spent a few days in the small Tlingit village of Kake, AK.  We were filling the pulpit of the Presbyterian Church while the pastor spent some time on vacation.  Kake is the home of about 500 people and the world's third largest totem pole (132 feet!) and stunning natural beauty.  While we were there, a short trip out our front door, up the main street, and on to the bridge provided a good observation point as black bears fished for salmon below.  

In fact, sometimes, it felt as if there were more black bears then humans.  

I arrived one week prior to my wife by float-plane from Sitka, AK.  I was dropped off with my bag at the end of the village marina greeted by a dog that looked something like a wolf; only bigger and meaner. However, he kept his distance as I prayed in earnest for divine intervention and watched helplessly as the float plane soared away.  I could only hope that this really was Kake and there had not been some mistake.  

I walked from the empty marina towards Main Street with the big wolf-like canine still following me at a distance, growling and getting closer.  I didn't see another human for several minutes as I walked in what I hoped was the direction of the church.  Later, I would learn that it was hunting season and most of the village had piled into boats and dispersed to the surrounding islands. (I believe that this is the reason the pastor trusted his congregation to a couple of seminary students for two weeks!)  

Eventually, an old pickup drove by and the driver, somehow, could tell I wasn't a local.  He asked me where I was going and I told him.  He was kind enough to offer a ride.  His name was Stanley. I was so thankful for Stanley and quickly jumped into the pickup.  I watched as the wolf-like dog sauntered back towards the marina. Stanley turned the pick-up around and drove me to the church, pointing out some of the local points of interest.  Stanley was unable to go hunting because of a fishing accident that had taken his arm.  He was happy to have someone to share the local lore of the village with and I was happy to have someone to talk to.

After a quick driving-tour of the town, Stanley dropped me off at the manse.  The manse was a comfortable log cabin with spectacular views Keku Strait and Frederick sound. I settled in and went over my notes for tomorrow's service before walking the empty beach.  Though the beach was deserted, God seemed present in Kake, somehow, in a way that I had not known before. Maybe it was because there were no cars, no noise, no TV; no distractions. Or, maybe it was the feeling of complete dependence and wild adventure.  Somehow I imagined Jesus walking with me just as he had walked along the shores of the Sea of Galilee, visiting with the disciples with the salted wind tussing at his hair.  

I was told that the Sunday service started at 10:00.  I didn't know if any one would show up. I didn't know if there was anyone in town, but I was ready.  At 9:00, I showed up at the church.  There was no one there, but it was a beautiful place and I went over my sermon a couple of more times.  It was the most polished sermon that I have ever preached. At 9:45, the organist showed up and went through the music for the day.  We visited, and at 10:00 AM on the dot, I welcomed the three people that were there.  After the Call to Worship, the Opening Hymn, and the Prayer of Confession, I read Scripture and began my sermon. That was about the time the rest of the congregation showed up.  There were approximately twenty, and I thought that must have been pretty much everybody that was left in the town.

I was to learn, in my brief stay in Kake, that time was not regulated as much by the clock as it was by relationships.  There was no hurry to get going on time and no worry if things ran late. It was jarring at first, then it was peace and rest.  

In a couple of days, my wife and her parents came over to Kake by ferry from Sitka where they had been staying.  We spent our time doing puzzles and watching the whales breaching in the distance as they made their annual migration to their winter breeding areas in Hawaii. The four of us would take a daily walk up the road to the bridge and watch the black bears fish for salmon.  My wife and I, fresh from the cornfields in Iowa where we were going to school, took long walks on black sandy beaches where we were able to unwind from our seminary studies and breathe in the salt air and dream big dreams of where we would live and where we would serve and begin planning for a brand new family.

It was during that second week of our stay that a lady in the congregation we were serving passed away.  Somehow, word got out to the village people dispersed throughout the archipelago that this matriarch of the community had entered her final rest. The marina began to fill up with hunting boats and the village began to swell and surge like an incoming tide.  I was summoned by a couple of the other pastors in the village. Plans were made for a service at the Presbyterian Church followed the next day by a celebration of life at the community hall. On the third day, we would board a vintage WWII landing boat and take the remains for burial at Grave Island.

In those three days, it was amazing for me to see the community come together; neighbors helped cooked meals and prepare music and had long visits.  All the pastors of the community came together at the community center because the entire village was there and that included members of their own congregations.  Stanley even hooked me into singing with the Alaska Native Brotherhood Choir.  (It was one song, and I have never been invited to return.) By the end of three days, grief had been tempered by the joy of knowing that a faithful daughter of God had been welcomed home and the simple joy of a community glad to be called together

As I reflect on that stay in Kake, AK over a decade ago, I still remember how rested  I felt.  Even in the midst of preparing two sermons and a funeral homily, time seemed to stand still. 

The village of Kake is still not a fancy tourist destination. It is a bit off the beaten path and a little bit weathered and cracked around the edges. There is still probably a big, angry dog guarding the town from interlopers stressed out by time.  But somehow, in that pocked of human civilization by the sea, the people had tapped into an ancient rhythm of life that I have experienced only episodically since then...a rhythm of life that is not governed by exhaustion and trying to fit one more thing in, but a rhythm devoted to the One and then fitting life around Him. A rhythm the ancients called rest; they called Sabbath.

I would love to go back to Kake now that we have children.  I would love for them to see the raw beauty of God's creation, but, even more, I long for our children to experience that rhythm of life...it is a life that doesn't demand more to make us full but rather dwells in fullness as its only demand.

Church Stopping. Less Doing. More Being.  

(<a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/LocationPhotos-g31021-Kake_Alaska.html#20527557"><img alt="" src="http://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/01/39/39/c5/world-s-tallest-totem.jpg"/></a><br/>This photo of Kake is courtesy of TripAdvisor)

Community Sabbath (Week Five): Pixar

(Picture by budding Pixar Animator, Sam Snook)

"So God created humanity in his own image, in the image of God he created humans; male end female he created them." (Genesis 1:27)

Creativity, it seems, is a very important part of being a human.  After all, we have been created in the image of the Creator.  Maybe we are not all artists, but we are all creative.  We are creators of speech and relationships. We are creators of homes and gardens and music and airplanes and treehouses.  We were created, it could be argued, to create.  And so we are drawn in large numbers to the worlds created by Pixar; the creator of such memorable movies as Toy Story, Cars, Planes, and Monsters, Inc. 

It was interesting for me to learn that Ed Catmull, president of Pixar, takes a ten-day silent retreat every year for "care of the soul." (Global Leadership Summit, 2015)  This practice illustrates our normal approach to Sabbath: We carve out a day, or a part of a day, or ten days if we can, to connect with God.  From that connection with the Creator, our lives are shaped and brought back to the divine image we were created with.  As a result of our time with God, we begin to connect with who God created us to be and we begin to connect again with those God gave us to be with.  

And there is good evidence that the best of Pixar's creations mirror, in very creative ways, the story that God has written on the storyboards of our hearts.   

Consider, for example, one of my favorite movies, Cars. The hero, Lightning McQueen, discovers that there is something more valuable than winning; friendship.  In Lightning's self-sacrifice, we are reminded of the Gospel story where Jesus, who instead of winning, brings others to the finish line through self-sacrifice.

And in Planes: Fire and Rescue, the broken Dusty Crophopper sacrifices his own life to save others.  In the end, he is restored and brought to new life. As we are told near the end of the movie, Dusty is now, "Better than new!"  There is hope in our brokenness.

It can be argued that these stories tell Biblical truths and reflect a connectedness to the Creator. The problem with my theory is that I haven't been able to find evidence that every Pixar employee takes a ten-day silent retreat every year. So, how did Pixar get to the point of bringing to life these stories written on the deepest part of our hearts without intentional Sabbath?

As we look closer at Pixar, we discover that computer scientists, animators, and other employees, while encouraged to decorate their personal workspaces in whatever way suits them (i.e, as a castle, spaceship, tiki lounge, etc.) work takes place in an open environment that fosters corroboration with other employees.  (Business Insider, April 2, 2014, Drake Baer)  

Could it be for us as individuals that cultivating our personal creativity and interpersonal relationships would connect us with the Creator?  And could it be for us as a church that cultivating individual creativity and encouraging interpersonal relationships could reveal the stories that God is writing in our midst?

Yes!  In fact, I believe that cultivating personal creativity and nourishing interpersonal relationships are Sabbath.  If you are feeling stuck in your Sabbath keeping, cultivate your inner Pixar.   First, do something creative; Maybe you could pick up a pencil and paper. Maybe a guitar.  Second, reach out to those all around you.  Listen to their story.  If you do these two thing, chances are that you will connect with the Creator of the universe and you will discover the story that God has been writing on your own heart.  

Church Stopping. Less Doing. More Being.

Community Sabbath (Week Four): Trinity Presbyterian Church, Wichita, Kansas

If you refrain from trampling the sabbath, from pursuing you own interests on my holy day, and call the sabbath a delight and the holy day of the Lord honorable; if you honor it by not going your own ways, or serving your own interests, or pursuing your own affairs; then you shall take delight in the Lord and I will make you ride upon the heights of the earth; I will feed you with the heritage of Jacob your father, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken. (Isaiah 58:13-14)

In eleven years of ministry at Trinity Presbyterian Church, I came to know this quirky, fun-loving, and diverse congregation to be united by one universal and pervasive ethos: hard work. However, all of the loving care for the building and grounds had not led to increased growth.  The carefully crafted children's ministry had not led to spiritual vistas.  Multiple choirs and brilliant sermons had not parlayed into a burgeoning budget. There was a growing sense that something was wrong and the status quo could not be sustained. "I have noticed people," said one church member , "working harder and longer than is really humanly possible."  Another pillar remarked in a congregational meeting, "At this rate, in ten years, there won't be a Trinity."

The panacea, I was convinced, to cure our ecclesiastical busyness and spiritual ennui, was a year-long, church-wide Sabbatical!  It wasn't an easy sell.  "If you need a Sabbatical, Pastor Geoff," I was told by one especially busy member, "you take one. I like what I do in the church!"

Undaunted...okay, a little daunted...I set out on visits to Sunday School classes, Bible studies, and small groups armed with facts and figures and the Biblical merits of community Sabbath. I devised sermon series, fielded questions, and brought in another pastor who had navigated the surly pre-Sabbatical waters in his own congregation.  

It helped, and so we launched into our year-long, church-wide Sabbath in January of 2010.  It was thrilling. We dropped the evening programs and encouraged the congregation to spend time with friends and family. The choir sang some familiar tunes and shortened practices.  We didn't go on our annual mission trip, opting to serve closer to home. The senior ministry dropped its monthly luncheon.  We streamlined our worship using pre-prepped resources drawn from the revised common lectionary.  We stopped, for an entire year, meeting in committees. In every way possible, without actually closing the doors, we streamlined our church work so that we could participate in God's work

It took a lot of courage. Not everyone elected to participate.  But most did and the results were palpable.  We grew closer to the Lord and we grew closer to one another.  We were able to discern where God was leading us as a people.  As one church member put it, "I see more people becoming involved besides the core group that always participates. There's more energy and the realization that each one of us is called to be a minister of the Word to the world around us-at work, school, or play."

I am very proud to have been a part of our church-wide Sabbatical.  I think it is okay to be proud because it was so clearly not about me. It was about what God began to do in all of us. And that was pretty awesome.

Church Stopping. Less doing. More being.

Community Sabbath (Week Three): Hi-Lu Farms

(Photo from www.freeimages.com, #1573842.)

“And I am come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land unto a good land and large, unto a land flowing with milk and honey...”
(Exodus 3:8)

Growing up on the Hi-Lu dairy farm on the plains of western Kansas, it may come as no surprise that Maggie McIntyre and her four sibling learned early on the value of hard work.  After all, there was always work to be done. There was the herd of 40-60 Brown Swiss cows that needed to be milked every day. There were also fields of wheat, corn, milo, alfalfa, and soybeans that needed to be cared for and grass pasture that needed to be managed.  There were chores at home and chores in the field in addition to the normal demands of homework and school activites.  

For Maggie, this hard work has translated into a highly successful legal career and a happy marriage all while raising two very active and talented teenage boys.  In every way, she leads a productive and busy life.  However, Maggie will be the first to tell you that productivity and busyness are not the measures of a good life. 

"My father always took a Sabbath," she says.  "On Sunday, we milked the cows and we went to church. My mother prepared a roast or fondue, something simple. But that was it.  No other work was done. If we were in the middle of harvest, we stopped. After church, we spent the rest of our day visiting with friends and relatives, relaxing, playing croquet and watching sports on TV." 

For her parents, Howard and Irene Lutes, keeping of the Sabbath was an important part of practicing their faith, and not just on Sunday.  Maggie would often find her father praying and reading before dawn and her mother would sometimes take a break in the middle of the day and go to the study to read her Bible. "I think it is hard to really have a relationship with God if we don't invest any time in prayer and meditation," Maggie says. "Stop light prayers are good, but we need to dedicate an hour or more every day if we are going to have a real relationship with anybody, including the Lord."

"It is counter-cultural, for sure," Maggie says. "Even back then in rural Kansas, our neighbors didn't always stop for the Sabbath.  In fact, one of our neighbors, whose wheat field was across from the church, always harvested on Sunday while we were having church. It was hot, so the windows of the church were open.  His combine was loud and it was disruptive to the service.  My father didn't like that."  

In ancient Egypt, the Hebrews were enslaved to their Egyptian taskmasters.  In today's busy, outcome-based world, we are sometimes our own taskmasters.  After being delivered from slavery, ancient Israel took time every week to remember that they were no longer slaves.  They took time every week to celebrate the benevolent God who delivered them to a land flowing with milk and honey; a land much like Hi-Lu Farms.  We need that time as well.

"Church shouldn't be secondary.  And not just Sunday morning, but Sunday evening and Wednesday night.  That is how I was raised and how I have raised my own family.  As a result, my boys didn't always get to do every activity that their friends did, but I wasn't going to go to soccer tournaments on Sunday.  They didn't always like that, but I hope that they understand why we made that decision.  If we are too busy, our relationship with God suffers."

"Church Stopping. Less Doing. More Being.

Community Sabbath (Week Two): Eat More Chicken

(Photo from www.freeimages.com #1563678. Thanks Adriana!)

Then he (Nehemiah) said to them, "Go your way, eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions to him for whom nothing is prepared; for this day is holy to our Lord; and do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength."  (Nehemiah 8:10)

If you have ever craved a chicken sandwich after church on Sunday, you probably know that you can't satisfy that craving at the local Chick-fil-A.  In fact, in every mall, on every college campus, in every city, on every Sunday, that mouth-watering bit of breaded goodness is unavailable.  

By some estimates, the act of shuttering approximately 2000 stores across the country for the Sabbath costs the giant chicken sandwich chain over 500 million dollars annually.  (The Christian Century, April 26, 2011) But Chick-fil-A founder, Truett Cathy said it was always about more than money: it's "about the way Chick-fil-A people view their spiritual life." (www.truettcathy.com)

"Spiritual life! Well, good for Chick-fil-A," says the cynic in me.  "With revenue of over six billion dollars per year, they can cultivate their 'spiritual life' with little risk!  My company simply doesn't have the kind of cushion that allows us to be holier than thou.  We must keep working.  Furthermore, it would be financially and spiritually devastating for our church to take a Sunday off. Our child's college application will suffer and I will loose my promotion if our family celebrated the Sabbath together." 

Right?

Theologian Rabbi Irving Greenberg, suggests that the real expense might be in ignoring the Sabbath:

Shabbat (the Sabbath) [provides] the necessary leisure to be one’s self and to enter into deeper relationships.

Rest is more than leisure from work, it is a state of inner discovery, tranquility, and unfolding. . . . The Sabbath commandment is not just to stop working, it is actively to achieve menuchah (rest) through self-expression, transformation, and renewal. On this day humans are freed to explore themselves and their relationships until they attain the fullness of being.

[The Shabbat’s] focus remains the enrichment of personal life. In passing over from weekday to Shabbat, the individual enters a different world. The burdens of the world roll off one’s back. In the phrase of the zemirah (Sabbath table song): “Anxiety and sighing flee.” In the absence of business and work pressure, parents suddenly can listen better to children. In the absence of school and extra-curricular pressures, children can hear their parents. Being is itself transformed. The state of inner well-being expands. As the Sabbath eve service text states: “The Lord . . . blesses the seventh day and [thereby] bestows holy serenity on a people satiated with delight.” The ability to reflect is set free. Creative thoughts long forgotten come back to mind. One’s patience with life increases. The individual’s capacity to cope is renewed. (www.publicdiscourse.com, September 18, 2014)

There is a cost to Sabbath keeping, for sure. I believe that if Truett Cathy were alive today, he would agree that 500 million dollars is a lot of money and a lot of good could be done with that additional revenue; more restaurants could be opened. More employees could be hired. More could be given back to the community. However, there is also a reward for stopping that is worth more than money. For Nehemiah it was the 'joy of the Lord." For Rabbi Irving Greenburg, it is 'holy serenity on a people satiated with delight." These are things that money simply cannot buy.

In the end, maybe the question isn't whether or not our corporations, churches, and families can afford to take a Sabbath, but if we can afford to continually ignore it.

Church Stopping. Less doing. More being.