Dallas Willard has become one of my favorite writers in the last few years.  While I still haven’t made it through “The Divine Consipiracy” (bet I’ve started that book eight times); “Renovation of the Heart” and “The Great Omission” have formed much of my thinking about discipleship.

ONE chapter in TGO has haunted me for three years.  Notes in the margins of my copy show that I’ve read it four times including a reading on Easter Sunday 2007 following a Lent season in which I fasted one day a week and prayed specifically for direction regarding a new job.  The chapter, “The Key to the Keys of the Kingdom” (available online on Dallas’ website).  I’ll include a few quotes here, but if you can relate at all with the busyness and life-pace issues I’ve been writing about, you really should read his entire article.

The Problem Willard identifies is a trend he sees in which those in “full time Christian service” are too pressured, too stressed by a great “need to achieve.”  It is their personal and spiritual life that falters in this quest.  Invariably, Willard concludes, “he comes to feel strongly that the circumstances in which he works are in conflict with the very goals for which he entered his profession in the first place.  Heightened frustration and disappointment go hand in hand with decreasing strength, peace, and joy.” (The Great Omission, 33)

The Key that Willard is referring to is (you guessed it) “Sabbath.”  In line with Mark Buchanan’s thoughts I wrote about a few days ago,  Dallas presents Sabbath as an antidote to my overestimation of my importance, an unhealthy dependence on me and my efforts instead of seeing and depending on God.

Sabbath is a way of life. (Heb. 4:3 & 9-11) It sets us free from bondage to our own efforts. Only in this way can we come to the power and joy of a radiant life in ministry, a blessing to all we touch. And yet Sabbath is almost totally absent from the existence of contemporary Christians and their ministers.

What is Sabbath? Biblically, it is a day, once a week, when we do no work. “Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath of the Lord your God; in it you shall not do any work.” (Ex 20:9-10) It was also a year, once every seven years, when God’s covenant people not sow seed, prune vines or store up harvest. (Lev. 25:4-7) And to the question, “How are we going to eat in the seventh year?” God replied: “I will so order My blessing for you in the sixth year that it will bring forth the crop for three years.” (vs. 21) (p. 34-35)

Willard recommends three spiritual practices for making Sabbath real in the midst of our life.  They are solitude, silence, and fasting.  I plan to write about the nuts and bolts of practicing the sabbath before these 40 days are over, so I won’t get into what those look like right here; but the payoff he describes is nothing short of inspiring:

• “Accept the grace of doing nothing.” (36)
• “Solitude well practiced will break the power of busyness, haste, isolation, and loneliness.” (36)
• “Silence allows the reality of God to stand in the midst of your life.” (36)
• “We are not safe and rich in talk and companionship unless our solus are strong in solitude and silence.” (37)
• “Oddly, through intentional times of practicing spiritual disciplines, my walk with Jesus has become more spontaneous.” (37)
• “I came back from the fast with a clearer sense of purpose and a renewed sense of power in my ministry” (38)
• We do not have to live under the thumb of our circumstances… putting time-tested, biblical disciplines for the spiritual life into sensible practice will soon lead us into an abundance of the life that is eternal in quality and power.” (39)

On a personal note, I’m feeling a bit conflicted about my Lent emphasis on “rest.” On the one hand, it has been a good season of spiritual challenge and renewed focus.  On the other hand it has left me more frustrated and dissatisfied with life and work.  You know how you can grow up enjoying a particular food (like steak or lasagna) and then one day you have a remarkably better version of that same food and you no longer enjoy the original as much?  Well, it’s kinda like that.  Studying sabbath has left me longing for a better steak, dissatisfied with my current lasagna.

Lord, show me where I should start…

Metanoia,
Aaron

By my count, this is Day 26 of Lent.  As you may already know, I have made the seemingly safe commitment to “think about rest” during these days.  Specifically, I determined that this process of thinking would look like this (with some progress updates):

• I’d use this blog to share some thoughts about topics like work, rest, sabbath, and pace (So far, I’m averaging a post every 5 days or so, approximately 30,000 times more frequently than I usually do).
• read Mark Buchanan’s “The Rest of God” (I’m trying to read this devotionally, only about a third of the way through, but finding it RICH and RELEVANT to my questions.  I’ll share a few new reflections below).
• review 3 or 4 other books and articles I’ve collected on this topic in the last couple of years. (Reread a chapter from Dallas Willard’s “The Great Ommission” that has haunted me for the past three years, I’m working on a post with some of Willard’s thoughts to post later this week.)
• be intentional to get enough sleep each night (goal: in bed by 11, at least 6.5 hours a night). (This has not been consistent - sleep is turning out to be a major symptom of my distress. Often my worry keeps me up at night or my apathy keeps me in bed in the morning.  I’m regularly getting less than 5 hours a night… this goal needs greater attention in the next two weeks.)
• take a “tithe” of these 40 days off - 4 days may not seem like a lot, but this is spring at Grace College. (I’ve taken one actual day off, I’m scheduled to take one full and two half days off this week… need to carve out at least one more.)
• I’m not sure how this fits, but traditionally Lent has included abstaining from something for this brief time.  I’ve decided to cut out all food after supper and all coffee after lunch. (This has been great.  I have identified food and caffeine my favorite vices.  Cutting these out has made me feel healthier, sleep better, and - beyond all of that - has served as a reminder of my commitment.)

In the fourth chapter of Buchanan’s book, he continues to refine our thinking about Sabbath by contrasting sleep and rest.  Sleep is essential, he acknowledges; in fact, when you try to deny yourself sleep, it will eventually catch up with you until you succumb to it.  Not so with Sabbath.  Sabbath is much more obliging when rebuffed - in the author’s words, “Resisted, it backs off. Spurned, it flees.  It’s easy to skirt or defy Sabbath.” (Rest of God, p 61)  When we neglect Sabbath it doesn’t come chasing us like sleep.  Sabbath steps aside like a gentleman and waits for us.

Thus we can live for years at a breakneck pace that appears productive but is deeply exhausting.  We feel unfulfilled and we attempt to fill the void with more recreation, longer hours, a new strategy, or self-justifying complaints.  What we need is to stop.  We need stillness.

Perhaps worse than the exhaustion, restlessness, and aggravation… worse than the lack of rest, is the untruth busyness allows us to believe.

“The worst hallucination busyness conjures is the conviction that I am God.  All depends on me. How will the right things hapen at the right time if I’m not pushing and pulling and watching and worrying?” (p. 61)

After some gut-level introspection I realized how true that is.  Way too often I overestimate my importance way too much.  I forget who is in control, I put unnecessary pressure on my efforts.  I get a type of “high” from believing everyone is depending on me for everything.  And, to be honest, I believe this because I lack confidence and trust in God.

And this is where I need some serious change in my thinking.

Essentially he presents the idea that if God isn’t big enough to handle everything, then we all need to work a whole lot harder.  ”Either God is good and in control, or it all depends on you.” (p. 63).  Surprise surprise, my busyness is a theological problem.  I am living in a way that is inconsistent with my beliefs about God.  I’m a hypocrite.

Now for some thoughts to begin to correct this thinking:

• The Jewish Sabbath begins in the evening - essentially, it begins with going to bed, with sleep.  Buchanan presents sleep as an act of faith, a sign of vulnerability, a statement of resignation.  Merely going to bed with work undone, with problems unsolved, with concerns unanswered is a spiritual discipline - trust that God is in control.
• David, the psalmist, gives a lot of lyrics to the idea of trusting God - Psalm 62 is a great example.  ”My soul finds rest in God alone… he alone is my rock and salvation (v. 1).  David’s life wasn’t easy or restful, his words were likely reminders to keep trust in perspective.
• Paul, the apostle and frequent prisoner, gives a practical example of keeping sabbath in the midst of crisis in Acts 16.  This is where Paul and Silas are imprisoned - and miraculously freed - while spending the night worshiping and preaching (practicing Sabbath) when they could have been complaining or worrying.  The interesting thing here is how God uses this experience to work things out in ways they never could have dreamed had they taken matters into their own hands.
• The key for putting God in his rightful place - as God - is having a spirit and posture of thankfulness.  “You cannot practice thankfulness on a biblical scale without its altering the way you see… Inherent in a life of thanksgiving is an ongoing discovery of God’s sufficiency, his generosity, his fatherly affection and warrior protection.” (p. 67-68)

Lord, bring my beliefs and action into alignment… gift me with a thankful heart and trust-filled sleep…

Metanoia,
Aaron

One of the more significant happenings since my last post was the death of a former professor and administrator at the school I work. Doctor/Pastor Dave Plaster passed last weekend after an unexpected and brief illness.  Over the last two years of his life, he returned to local church ministry and was mostly away from Grace College.

While I was never one of the many young men (especially future pastors) that he individually mentored (sometimes called the “Plasterites”) I learned under him in at least 4 classes, admired his rare combination of intellect and heart, and considered him a friend.  And I, like so many others, have stories of his impact on my life.  Specifically, he helped me find a way to graduate when I thought it impossible, he encouraged me to marry the woman who is now my wife, and he advised me to stay on at Grace College when I decided to resign as RD.  In reflecting on his life and listening to stories of his impact this past month:

• Very appreciative of all I learned in his theology and church history courses - I’m convinced that I would hate those two areas of study with less of a teacher.
• I always saw him as an energetic and straight shooting person - he was easily one of the busiest people at Grace.  At the memorial service, his executive pastor described him as “busy but interruptible.”  As a fellow busy-man, I long for the same to be said of me.
• He was brilliant - his mind could have earned him accolades in many different fields, but more important than brilliant, he was focused.  He understood and pursued his calling - to lead the church and develop emerging church leaders.
• He loved and served his family well.  His son Rob shared that their family never felt neglected by their father’s many other responsibilities.  He said that proved how big his dad’s heart was - that he could love so many people and still love his family first.
• He valued time with people -mentoring, usually one on one.  I relate with that passion, and yet in recent years, I’ve done it less, and made is less of a priority.

I pray the example of godly men like Dave Plaster will change the way I live, learn, and serve as an educator, father, and leader.

Metanoia,
Aaron

I can be quite the whiner.

You know it’s true… looking back through my recent posts - read them doing your best impression of a three year old and you’ll hear it - Aaron’s pity party. Sadly, it’s a party I’ve been throwing for most of the last 3 years… see?

I’m a blamer… discontent in my life pace, circumstances, workload, and spiritual zeal - I boldly… complain on my blog and try to think my way through it.  And it doesn’t work.

So, in my thinking I’ve came to a minor epiphany…  life is out of control.

Obvious, I know… but, I tend to miss the obvious when I’m this busy and this self absorbed.

I have a love/hate relationship with control.  I have always prided myself in my patience and flexibility - living life in a “holding my plans with an open hand” manner.  I see unmanipulated life circumstances as a sign of God’s will.  I appreciate meekness over passion.  And I generally take a “wait and see” approach to decisions.  I’ve judged others as “control freaks” for being conscientious, deliberate, or aggressive.  I desire to lead and “challenge the process” but in a kinder, gentler way.  I acquiesce… a lot.

I’m not supposed to be in control of my life -God is, right?  My “ah ha” lately is that neither God nor I is currently in control of this life.  I’ve delegated control to every single person in my life: students I serve at Grace, my co-workers, supervisors, family members… pretty much anyone who asks (’cause I can’t say “no” to anyone except Lowe’s employees).

My new goal is to be more proactive, less whiney - to take back some of the control.  Then, I can actually give control over to God as a direct act of worship. Free will restored and applied.

Yup.  That’s my goal.  Now to figure out HOW to do this, because it’s going to take some courage that I’ve seldom demonstrated in the past.

Lord, help me put faith and action to these learnings…

Metanoia,
Aaron

I am tired.

Not falling asleep in class tired (trust me, I’ve experienced that numerous times), or out of breath tired. it’s not exactly sick-and-tired.  I’m not necessarily upset about this, in fact, if I’m being honest, I actually enjoy it sometimes.  It’s the tired you get when you continuously engage in a tiresome schedule and run at a tiring pace.  It’s a work + family + friends + church + house tired.

It’s a too busy for rest tired.

And it’s becoming a problem.

I’m not experiencing a “tired crisis” of any specific kind.  I’m relatively healthy, my family is relatively supportive and happy, my relationships are okay - maybe not great, but okay, and my walk with God seems fairly close.  But something tells me that this “tired” isn’t okay.

Living tired isn’t living.

Obviously, I’m having a bit of a hard time defining this.  But there are a few things I’m sure of: it isn’t healthy, it isn’t life as God intended, and I have a responsibility to do something about it.

Now, if you are reading this (welcome inside my head, by the way. I’m probably writing this more for the benefit of organizing my thoughts than to influence yours, but figured others might be able to speak toward or benefit from my musings if I threw them out here…) please don’t simplify this issue.  I don’t want to hear trite encouragements to “pray more,” or “take more time off,” or - my favorite - “prioritize.”  All those are truth, but I’m too tired to see clearly how to apply that advice.

This tiredness… this life-pace problem… this work/rest relationship is complicated.  I’ve been down this road a thousand times only to realize again and again that I’ve gone in a circle.  I’ve tried spiritual practices, being more health conscious, seeking wise counsel, and building better boundaries.  Both problem and solutions are multi-layered and potentially chronic.

So, I’ve decided on a first step.  I’m going to… here it comes… think about this more.

Perhaps that seems like a weak first step, but I’m pretty tired, and when I’m tired, intentional reflection is the first casualty.  So, I’m going to spend some time and energy (both in short supply) considering how I can overcome tiredness, find my rhythm, restore my soul, and start really living.

I’m grateful for some religious leaders at some unknown point in history instituted a time of spiritual preparation in the 40 days leading up to Easter called “Lent.”  I’ve adopted this practice at various times in the past to focus my life in one direction or another.  So this year I’m going to do some thinking.

For the sake of accountability and my own processing… here’s what this “thinking” will look like:

• use this blog to share some thoughts about topics like work, rest, sabbath, and pace
• read Mark Buchanan’s “The Rest of God”
• review 3 or 4 other books and articles I’ve collected on this topic in the last couple of years.
• be intentional to get enough sleep each night (goal: in bed by 11, at least 6.5 hours a night).
• take a “tithe” of these 40 days off - 4 days may not seem like a lot, but this is spring at Grace College.
• I’m not sure how this fits, but traditionally Lent has included abstaining from something for this brief time.  I’ve decided to cut out all food after supper and all coffee after lunch.

Last week, my friend and co-worker, Dan Huber, and I were asked to co-teach a couple of hours in the “Gender and Sexuality” course on the topic of “the Essence of Masculinity.”  I initially thought it must be some sort of joke, but no, the invitation was legit.  

So, with only a week to prepare, we set out on the task of understanding and facilitating a conversation on this topic - a process which consumed 5 or 6 movies, gallons of coffee, and at least one all-nighter.  Two things were instantly evident: 1) There is a lot of content pertaining to men, male issues, and the roles men play in the family, church, workplace, and society, but not much on our specific topic. 2) This is a very personal issue.  When you start defining and identifying “masculinity” major defenses rise up inside a man.  Every definition I came across (and there are not many out there brave/stupid enough to try to define it) was, internally, a measurement of my own worth and competence.  So, I had to try to get over myself quite a bit, but in the end I had a ton of fun with the topic and really enjoyed teaching with someone as talented as Dan.

Basically we decided to lead the class in identifying positive characteristics they have observed in the men that have fathered them throughout life (dads, brothers, relatives, teachers, mentors) and then use that context to build a working definition of masculinity.  We then shared with the class our working definition:

One who takes responsibility for himself and others by engaging, cultivating, protecting and providing.

 As I mentioned above, this is not a term on which many are willing to pin a definition, but we’re new at this and don’t know any better.  We spent some time fleshing it out and answering questions about how well this captures the “essence of masculinity.”  Finally we identified four general ways in which men respond to their masculinity.  This gave us a way of categorizing common issues men deal with.  

Over compensation (The Man’s Man)  flimsy expressions of masculinity – safe places of comfort and competence where men retreat to appear masculine… 

Disconnection (The Mama’s Boy)  When the label of “masculine” doesn’t feel right, is rejected, or is simply met with passivity…  

Control (The Escape Artist)  the places men go to feel powerful and in control – over people or situations or themselves…

Embracing Masculinity – owning and accepting our masculinity as a central part of our identity and calling in life…

With each of these responses, we illustrated the response with a list of ways this response could demonstrate itself in behavior.  We also shared ways we’ve seen these played out (anonymously) on our college campus.  We also shared examples from the bible of men responding in these ways.

If anyone is reading this - I know I have only posted twice in 5 months - I’d LOVE to hear your thoughts on our (working) definition and these four responses.  Defining anything can be dangerous, but the process of defining is a great teaching mechanism.  Clearly, in this case, I am learning much more than I could have possibly taught.  

Metanoia,
Aaron

I’m actually in Austin,TX for a conference that is the near-opposite of a sweet concert… an assessment conference.  Yeah, bring on the caffeine.

For the flight, I grabbed Seth Godin’s newest, “Tribes.”  If nothing else, it has inspired me to give more attention to this blog… and to use it as a means to reflect and process meaningful ideas.

I’m about a third of the way through the book so this isn’t a full review, just a midpoint contemplation.  Godin is basically calling (pleading, begging, urging) people (leaders) to take advantage of the opportunities that exist to influence groups of people (tribes) by connecting them to stories and hope.  He argues that technology and marketing has made it easier to connect people and mobilize them behind ideas that matter.

So, the opportunities for influence are abundant, the culture is receptive to change, and the technology for mobilizing people are at hand… the only thing missing is leaders - people who will leverage the moment. Godin proposes that leadership is lacking because the men and women inspired with these big ideas are scared.  They are fearful, not of failure, necessarily, but of criticism.  People lack “the will to make the ideas happen.” (p. 42)

“Leadership is scarce because few people are willing to go through the discomfort required to lead…  It’s uncomfortable to stand up in front of strangers.  It’s uncomfortable to propose an idea that might fail. It’s uncomfortable to challenge the status quo. It’s uncomfortable to resist the urge to settle.  When you identify the discomfort, you’ve found the place where a leader is needed.” (p. 55)

This has gotten me thinking about what holds leaders back.  As I mentally go through the list of my teammates and friends, I can identify some of the fears and discomforts holding them back, but I’m not sure I’ve reflected enough on the subject to articulate the limitations to my own potential.  So what holds me back?  Where do my discomforts dwell?

Here is a START to such a list:

• I usually focus more on impressing people than I do about meeting a goal or accomplishing a mission.  This leads to wasteful perfectionism.
• I am more concerned with presentation than content.  This leads to shallowness.
• I am more interested in spending time with people who are similar to me than reaching out to and learning from those who are different.  This leads to exclusivity.
• I am more interested in appearing godly than I am in training myself to be godly.  This leads to hypocricy.
• I am more motivated by doing something creative than I am by doing something meaningful.  This leads to carelessness.
• I am more confident in my abilities than God’s provision.  This leads to doubt.
• I am more comfortable making people laugh than making people think.  This leads to flippancy.

What’s holding you back?  Where are your discomforts?  Leader?

Metanoia,
Aaron