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