A Shared Sabbatical -- FPC sermon excerpt
I’ll be leaving Saturday, August 1, for a three-month sabbatical. Then, on November the 1st, I’ll be back.
Did I just hear somebody mutter, “Darn it!”?
No, it’s true. I will be back. And I say this because some people fear that a pastor’s sabbatical is really a giant step out the door. A chance to look for another church. An opportunity to rethink his or her future.
That is certainly not true for me. I can honestly say that I have never been more excited about the mission and ministry of Fairfax Presbyterian Church. The staff that is assembled here is the best team we have had in my eight years as senior pastor. And I am thrilled with the energy and enthusiasm you are all showing as we work together to be a truly Uncommon Christian Community. You might be happy to learn that, according to a recent survey, 80 percent of congregations report that a sabbatical “strengthened the pastor’s commitment to their congregation.”
My sabbatical will be an opportunity for me to visit other churches that are trying, as we are, to embrace “all people with God’s love and grace.” I’ll learn from these congregations, and then come back and share my findings. I want to look at the best practices of churches that do an excellent job of welcoming people with true hospitality, and then return to FPC with some fresh ideas for ministry here.
I also want to take a break, and enjoy some rest and renewal. Jesus knows I need it.
In the Gospel of Mark, the apostles have been working very hard, preaching and healing, when Jesus says to them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while” (Mark 6:31). He invites them to stop their work and take a mini-sabbatical, knowing that this word is related to the Hebrew verb meaning “cease, stop, interrupt.” According to Scripture, the first followers of Jesus are an awful lot like ourselves — working long hours, coming and going, with no chance even to sit down and grab a bite! So they accept the invitation of Jesus, and escape by boat to a deserted place.
Jesus grasps something that today’s best thinkers are only beginning to understand: Decomposition takes time. The making of good, rich, life-giving compost, for example, takes time. Yes, you heard right; I’m talking about compost. “You can’t hurry compost for the same reason you can’t hurry love and you can’t hurry a soufflé,” explains James Gleick, author of the book Faster. In the same way, grandchildren take time, learning a foreign language takes time, the testing of new drugs takes time, and vacations that truly enable us to rest, relax, and recreate take time. That’s why I’m taking a three-month sabbatical: Decomposition takes time.
I need to decompose a bit, if I’m going to come back here full of nutrients — nutrients that this church needs for health and growth.
Resting a while is not simply a personal choice, according to Jesus — it is critical for any of us who are being battered by our hyperspeed, ramped-up world. We need to get back to the Old English meaning of the word “speed,” which was success and prosperity — not velocity. After all, the word “Godspeed” doesn’t mean “God hustle you along,” it means “God grant you a successful and prosperous journey.” Becoming fertile, rich, successful, and mature takes time, and it requires decomposing.
The good news is that some supercharged souls seem to be getting the message and slowing down a bit. There is a serious resurgence of Sabbath-keeping going on around us, as people discover the benefits of breaking out of the workaday world and devoting a day a week to reflection and relaxation. The benefits are numerous and range far beyond the spiritual. My friend Bill Parent, the Roman Catholic priest who got me into marathon running, tells me that a universally recognized training principle is that a runner becomes faster by taking a day off from training each week. “The Sabbath principle,” he observes, “is built into our physical bodies.”
If you want to run faster, the key is to stop running, at least one day a week. Stop and decompose a bit. John Sonnenday, the former pastor of Immanuel Presbyterian Church, is convinced that the one group that most desperately needs some Sabbath time each week is our children — they need time and attention from us, and they also need time just to be themselves. Sabbath is a reminder that we — both children and adults — are more than beasts of burden, more than cogs in a wheel, more than students or workers who are valued for our contributions. On our day of rest, we discover we are valuable simply because we exist.
From a personal standpoint, I am hoping that my sabbatical will help me to rediscover this for myself. It is an important, spiritual truth: I am valuable simply because I exist, as a child of God. My value doesn’t come from preaching sermons or writing articles or teaching classes or moderating the session. It doesn’t come from making a certain salary or living in a nice home or driving a brand-new car.
No, I am valuable because I exist, as one of God’s precious children. And so are you.
There is a lot that my sabbatical can teach me, and a lot that it can teach you as well. That’s why I have titled this sermon “A Shared Sabbatical.” I am getting a break from serving as your pastor, and you are getting a break from me! Good things can definitely happen in all of our lives as we disengage and decompose a bit.
Did I just hear somebody mutter, “Darn it!”?
No, it’s true. I will be back. And I say this because some people fear that a pastor’s sabbatical is really a giant step out the door. A chance to look for another church. An opportunity to rethink his or her future.
That is certainly not true for me. I can honestly say that I have never been more excited about the mission and ministry of Fairfax Presbyterian Church. The staff that is assembled here is the best team we have had in my eight years as senior pastor. And I am thrilled with the energy and enthusiasm you are all showing as we work together to be a truly Uncommon Christian Community. You might be happy to learn that, according to a recent survey, 80 percent of congregations report that a sabbatical “strengthened the pastor’s commitment to their congregation.”
My sabbatical will be an opportunity for me to visit other churches that are trying, as we are, to embrace “all people with God’s love and grace.” I’ll learn from these congregations, and then come back and share my findings. I want to look at the best practices of churches that do an excellent job of welcoming people with true hospitality, and then return to FPC with some fresh ideas for ministry here.
I also want to take a break, and enjoy some rest and renewal. Jesus knows I need it.
In the Gospel of Mark, the apostles have been working very hard, preaching and healing, when Jesus says to them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while” (Mark 6:31). He invites them to stop their work and take a mini-sabbatical, knowing that this word is related to the Hebrew verb meaning “cease, stop, interrupt.” According to Scripture, the first followers of Jesus are an awful lot like ourselves — working long hours, coming and going, with no chance even to sit down and grab a bite! So they accept the invitation of Jesus, and escape by boat to a deserted place.
Jesus grasps something that today’s best thinkers are only beginning to understand: Decomposition takes time. The making of good, rich, life-giving compost, for example, takes time. Yes, you heard right; I’m talking about compost. “You can’t hurry compost for the same reason you can’t hurry love and you can’t hurry a soufflé,” explains James Gleick, author of the book Faster. In the same way, grandchildren take time, learning a foreign language takes time, the testing of new drugs takes time, and vacations that truly enable us to rest, relax, and recreate take time. That’s why I’m taking a three-month sabbatical: Decomposition takes time.
I need to decompose a bit, if I’m going to come back here full of nutrients — nutrients that this church needs for health and growth.
Resting a while is not simply a personal choice, according to Jesus — it is critical for any of us who are being battered by our hyperspeed, ramped-up world. We need to get back to the Old English meaning of the word “speed,” which was success and prosperity — not velocity. After all, the word “Godspeed” doesn’t mean “God hustle you along,” it means “God grant you a successful and prosperous journey.” Becoming fertile, rich, successful, and mature takes time, and it requires decomposing.
The good news is that some supercharged souls seem to be getting the message and slowing down a bit. There is a serious resurgence of Sabbath-keeping going on around us, as people discover the benefits of breaking out of the workaday world and devoting a day a week to reflection and relaxation. The benefits are numerous and range far beyond the spiritual. My friend Bill Parent, the Roman Catholic priest who got me into marathon running, tells me that a universally recognized training principle is that a runner becomes faster by taking a day off from training each week. “The Sabbath principle,” he observes, “is built into our physical bodies.”
If you want to run faster, the key is to stop running, at least one day a week. Stop and decompose a bit. John Sonnenday, the former pastor of Immanuel Presbyterian Church, is convinced that the one group that most desperately needs some Sabbath time each week is our children — they need time and attention from us, and they also need time just to be themselves. Sabbath is a reminder that we — both children and adults — are more than beasts of burden, more than cogs in a wheel, more than students or workers who are valued for our contributions. On our day of rest, we discover we are valuable simply because we exist.
From a personal standpoint, I am hoping that my sabbatical will help me to rediscover this for myself. It is an important, spiritual truth: I am valuable simply because I exist, as a child of God. My value doesn’t come from preaching sermons or writing articles or teaching classes or moderating the session. It doesn’t come from making a certain salary or living in a nice home or driving a brand-new car.
No, I am valuable because I exist, as one of God’s precious children. And so are you.
There is a lot that my sabbatical can teach me, and a lot that it can teach you as well. That’s why I have titled this sermon “A Shared Sabbatical.” I am getting a break from serving as your pastor, and you are getting a break from me! Good things can definitely happen in all of our lives as we disengage and decompose a bit.
posted by Henry Brinton | 2:03 PM
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