So it's been almost 2 months now. Things have gone very well. It's really nice to have an excuse for nap taking and reading. I've noticed some things that are frankly a little disturbing. Although I have been really enjoying the physical rest that sabbath brings, it seems that unwittingly I have stopped there. It has been hard to discern, but I feel as though non-sabbath thinking has crept into the sabbath. What I mean is this. A pattern has been developing: wake up, meditate and journal, eat, nap, read, make dinner, play games, bed. Overall not a bad way to spend the day. The problem enters when this becomes the routine every sabbath. While going through this routine I have found myself giving over to the mindless task of doing, not being. As I'm doing one thing my mind is already ahead, anticipating the next. This is not the key to mental and spiritual rest. This is a dangerous game for me, to subtly revert back to everyday thinking. It allows me to achieve physical rest, but the mind still desires multitasking and unnecessary obsession. Am I so afraid of what i might find in true silence and stillness?
Saturday, March 6, 2010
A Familiar Whisper from a Stranger
"Sabbath is a stranger you've always known. It's the place of homecoming you've rarely or never visited, but which you've been missing forever. You recognize it the moment you set eyes on it. It's the gift that surprises you, not by its novelty, but by its familiarity. It's the song you never sang but, hearing it now, know inside out, its words and melody, its harmonies, its rhythm, the way the time quickens just before the chorus bursts. It's been asleep in you all this time, waiting for the right kiss to wake it."
Mark Buchanan The Rest of God
Mark Buchanan The Rest of God
Monday, March 1, 2010
This Moment Alone
One of the blessings--and greatest struggles--of practicing the Sabbath is practicing mindfulness of this moment. It is so opposite of the career I have and the kind of person I am.
As a teacher, my success hinges on the ability to predict and plan for the next moment--who will struggle? who will be bored? how long left til the bell? who will need encouragement? who will need celebration? who will need redirecting? how can I change this lesson?
How do I turn that mind off on Sunday? Let me tell you, it's a challenge! Here's a typical mental battlefield through my thoughts dodge as I sit on my couch and try to be in this moment alone...
When should I start dinner?
What's Dave thinking?
Am I ready for school tomorrow?
When should we nap?
Should we take the dog for a walk after we get up?
Should I run later?
You get the point.
Sure, we can schedule a day to partake in worshipful rest...but did my brain get the memo? Hardly not.
I think this endless mental striving is one of the curses of our 21st century. After all, we live in a society where multi-tasking is a talent, busyness is success, and silence is sinful. Who in their right mind is in this moment alone?
And that is the point to which I arrive today. Perhaps being in this moment is not about the right brain. But we all have two sides to our brain...don't we? And couldn't we ALL use a little more left brain? Time to create. Time to imagine. Time to bathe in beauty. Time to applaud chaos and exalt unknowing. Time to ask questions without demanding answers. Time to get lost in the details and surrender the big picture to Supreme Artist. Time to just...be...
I desperately need time in this moment alone. I need to honor my left brain more. For I commiserate with these words: "Being in a hurry [is my biggest regret in life]. Getting to the next thing without full entering the thing in front of me. I cannot think of a single advantage I've ever gained from being in a hurry. But a thousand broken and missed things, tens of thousands, lie in the wake of all that rushing" (Buchanan, The Rest of God) Being in a hurry makes me look and feel more productive (a mere illusion), sure...but in the end it leaves me--and I imagine those to whom I connect--empty.
So on a recent Sabbath, I stopped. I sat in a moment alone. I stopped waiting for the next. It was a forceful and wondrous snowstorm which transfixed my view. And my left brain celebrated the tiny beauties and melodious paradoxes I witnessed. I captured them. In a poem. I created.
"Now"
As a teacher, my success hinges on the ability to predict and plan for the next moment--who will struggle? who will be bored? how long left til the bell? who will need encouragement? who will need celebration? who will need redirecting? how can I change this lesson?
How do I turn that mind off on Sunday? Let me tell you, it's a challenge! Here's a typical mental battlefield through my thoughts dodge as I sit on my couch and try to be in this moment alone...
When should I start dinner?
What's Dave thinking?
Am I ready for school tomorrow?
When should we nap?
Should we take the dog for a walk after we get up?
Should I run later?
You get the point.
Sure, we can schedule a day to partake in worshipful rest...but did my brain get the memo? Hardly not.
I think this endless mental striving is one of the curses of our 21st century. After all, we live in a society where multi-tasking is a talent, busyness is success, and silence is sinful. Who in their right mind is in this moment alone?
And that is the point to which I arrive today. Perhaps being in this moment is not about the right brain. But we all have two sides to our brain...don't we? And couldn't we ALL use a little more left brain? Time to create. Time to imagine. Time to bathe in beauty. Time to applaud chaos and exalt unknowing. Time to ask questions without demanding answers. Time to get lost in the details and surrender the big picture to Supreme Artist. Time to just...be...
I desperately need time in this moment alone. I need to honor my left brain more. For I commiserate with these words: "Being in a hurry [is my biggest regret in life]. Getting to the next thing without full entering the thing in front of me. I cannot think of a single advantage I've ever gained from being in a hurry. But a thousand broken and missed things, tens of thousands, lie in the wake of all that rushing" (Buchanan, The Rest of God) Being in a hurry makes me look and feel more productive (a mere illusion), sure...but in the end it leaves me--and I imagine those to whom I connect--empty.
"Now"
I sit in a Sabbath snow globe
listening to the silent, still, secret snowflake whispers.
The snowfall suffers confusion,
first tumbling vertically to the earth, then
stolen and sidetracked by sweeping thieves of wind,
finally swirling and twirling around the centurion pine--
who rises as a centennial axis.
The graceful carousel of quiet nothingness eternally spins.
Must the snowfall have a direction to fall?
Or does it just...
Fall?
Be?
Surrender control and blur into white identity.
There is no next moment; only now.
A million small, lacy snowflakes scramble
outside the glass pane.
A million nows.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Rest...or Die: Mary
Rest...or Die.
Harsh title, I know.
Yet not as harsh as the words Jehovah spoke to his people in Exodus 31 (version, The Message):
God spoke to Moses: "Tell the Israelites, 'Above all, keep my Sabbaths, the sign between me and you, generation after generation, to keep the knowledge alive that I am the God who makes you holy. Keep the Sabbath; it's holy to you. Whoever profanes it will most certainly be put to death. Whoever works on it will be excommunicated from the people. There are six days for work but the seventh day is Sabbath, pure rest, holy to God. Anyone who works on the Sabbath will most certainly be put to death. The Israelites will keep the Sabbath, observe Sabbath-keeping down through the generations, as a standing covenant. It's a fixed sign between me and the Israelites. Yes, because in six days God made the Heavens and the Earth and on the seventh day he stopped and took a long, deep breath.'"
Practice the Sabbath...or perish.
Invest in a day to stop...or suffer isolation.
Now, I'm quite certain the literal components of this passage would fire a passionate debate (which is of no concern to me right now), so I'm going to go figurative. It seems to me here that this is one more place God demonstrates his omniscience. Humanity does not have an off button naturally. We will go until we're sick, dead, or both. Especially in this modern time, when during one tiny breath of time, we can be working, communicated with someone on Facebook, watching the news, eating lunch, Googling, and texting our spouse about picking up dinner. Go. Do. More. Yes. Sacrifice. Strive. An endless string of pressing concerns chokes our lives. Rest...or die. How many of us are dying of business?
Wayne Muller comments on our fatal gluttony for business: "A 'successful' life has become a violent enterprise. We make war on our bodies, pushing them beyond their limits; war on our children, because we cannot find enough time to be with them when they are hurt or afraid, and need our company; war on our spirit, because we are too preoccupied to listen to the quiet voices that seek to nourish and refresh us; war on our communities, because we are fearfully protecting what we have, and do not feel safe enough to be kind and generous; war on earth, because we cannot take time to place our feet on the ground and allow it to feed us, to taste its blessing and gave thanks" (see below) A life lived with no rest, no pause, no stillness is a life of violence: destructive to our souls, dangerous to our loved ones, deadly to our bodies, debilitating to the innocent bystanders of our incessant striving.
So yes, there is no question that God's warnings about Sabbath for his people are harsh. Rest...or die. Stop...or suffer isolation. But it is easy to see how these admonishments are for our own good. Rest...or die, because our physical selves suffer from non-stop going. Stop...or suffer isolation, because our relationships (sometimes even those within the same household) are diminished by our constant output of energy. (Ironic, no? You think in a society that is more connected than ever isolation would not occur?!)
I work a job that demands at least 60 hours a week and 100% of my mind and heart. I have a house that is constantly dirty. I have a marriage that cries for cultivation. I have furry pets who need walking and feeding. Thank God, literally, for His gift of a weekly off button.
When was the last time you pressed yours?
To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything, is to succumb to violence. ~Thomas Merton
Wayne Muller's Sabbath book...
Harsh title, I know.
Yet not as harsh as the words Jehovah spoke to his people in Exodus 31 (version, The Message):
God spoke to Moses: "Tell the Israelites, 'Above all, keep my Sabbaths, the sign between me and you, generation after generation, to keep the knowledge alive that I am the God who makes you holy. Keep the Sabbath; it's holy to you. Whoever profanes it will most certainly be put to death. Whoever works on it will be excommunicated from the people. There are six days for work but the seventh day is Sabbath, pure rest, holy to God. Anyone who works on the Sabbath will most certainly be put to death. The Israelites will keep the Sabbath, observe Sabbath-keeping down through the generations, as a standing covenant. It's a fixed sign between me and the Israelites. Yes, because in six days God made the Heavens and the Earth and on the seventh day he stopped and took a long, deep breath.'"
Practice the Sabbath...or perish.
Invest in a day to stop...or suffer isolation.
Now, I'm quite certain the literal components of this passage would fire a passionate debate (which is of no concern to me right now), so I'm going to go figurative. It seems to me here that this is one more place God demonstrates his omniscience. Humanity does not have an off button naturally. We will go until we're sick, dead, or both. Especially in this modern time, when during one tiny breath of time, we can be working, communicated with someone on Facebook, watching the news, eating lunch, Googling, and texting our spouse about picking up dinner. Go. Do. More. Yes. Sacrifice. Strive. An endless string of pressing concerns chokes our lives. Rest...or die. How many of us are dying of business?
Wayne Muller comments on our fatal gluttony for business: "A 'successful' life has become a violent enterprise. We make war on our bodies, pushing them beyond their limits; war on our children, because we cannot find enough time to be with them when they are hurt or afraid, and need our company; war on our spirit, because we are too preoccupied to listen to the quiet voices that seek to nourish and refresh us; war on our communities, because we are fearfully protecting what we have, and do not feel safe enough to be kind and generous; war on earth, because we cannot take time to place our feet on the ground and allow it to feed us, to taste its blessing and gave thanks" (see below) A life lived with no rest, no pause, no stillness is a life of violence: destructive to our souls, dangerous to our loved ones, deadly to our bodies, debilitating to the innocent bystanders of our incessant striving.
So yes, there is no question that God's warnings about Sabbath for his people are harsh. Rest...or die. Stop...or suffer isolation. But it is easy to see how these admonishments are for our own good. Rest...or die, because our physical selves suffer from non-stop going. Stop...or suffer isolation, because our relationships (sometimes even those within the same household) are diminished by our constant output of energy. (Ironic, no? You think in a society that is more connected than ever isolation would not occur?!)
I work a job that demands at least 60 hours a week and 100% of my mind and heart. I have a house that is constantly dirty. I have a marriage that cries for cultivation. I have furry pets who need walking and feeding. Thank God, literally, for His gift of a weekly off button.
When was the last time you pressed yours?
To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything, is to succumb to violence. ~Thomas Merton
Wayne Muller's Sabbath book...
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Another One...
Though I will be posting more later, I just have to say that already (not even two chapters into it), I am profoundly affected by this book. If you are keeping up with this blog, you will be hearing a lot about it!
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Wac-a-Mole and a Sabbath Heart: Mary
The scene is a bedroom.
Sabbath morning. Sleepy eyes. Muted dawnlight. Awakening mind.
WAC!
And that would me, brutally annihilating thoughts of work that are popping up across my mental landscape. My body has not even risen from the warm covers, and already I am inundated with worries, anxieties, plans, questions, reminders...on and on the list goes. Wait, this is supposed to be the Sabbath! No work thoughts. No worries.
And so the Sabbath work begins. Yep, I said it. Sabbath takes work. It is challenging to create the rhythm of rest. Ridding my brain of the burdens of responsibilities is reminiscent of that carnival game, Wac-a-Mole. Just when you pound down one sinister mole who is grinning at you with mockery, another pops up in his place, taunting your incompetency to squelch their annoying presence. And so it goes with my thoughts of work. Lesson planning. Grading. Student worries. Lesson planning. Conversations with colleagues. Grading. Position security. Negative complaining. Lesson modification. Vindictive politics. Mole. Wac. Mole. Wac. There I lay, swinging away with that foam bat, out of breath, and I haven't even risen for the day yet! Paul was not kidding when he used war language to describe the mental battlefield: "Take captive every thought..."
How many of us have our lives ruled by thoughts of work? Our lives are dictated by a job that is suppose to be our livelihood, yet in the end--though it fills our bank account--it repletes our soul. Mine has. It has consumed me, distracted me, tired me. I want to work to live...not live to work. And that is one more reason I need the Sabbath. I need to stop, and then notice, get this, that the world does not stop with me. It goes on. It survives. I am not the axis on which this globe spins. So why do I live like it? Why do I consistently feel the pressure that God has reserved for himself alone?
Not any longer. Sabbath is my pause from work, but more importantly, it is a break from the arrogance that consumes my life. The arrogance that says I have to do it all alone. All perfect. All the time.
Which ties into my next thought for this week. Monday morning as I was driving to work, I felt the strenous tension rise through my legs, through my shoulders, through my heart like the heat of an attack. Not 24 hours removed from the Sabbath, I am already consumed with anxiety for the impending week. And I thought...why does the Sabbath end? Yes, my habits, actions, and activities change; but my heart can remain in that stillness of Sunday, that serenity of Sabbath. And that is what I really want from this year. A Sabbath day yes. But God, please give me a Sabbath heart.
Sabbath morning. Sleepy eyes. Muted dawnlight. Awakening mind.
WAC!
And that would me, brutally annihilating thoughts of work that are popping up across my mental landscape. My body has not even risen from the warm covers, and already I am inundated with worries, anxieties, plans, questions, reminders...on and on the list goes. Wait, this is supposed to be the Sabbath! No work thoughts. No worries.
And so the Sabbath work begins. Yep, I said it. Sabbath takes work. It is challenging to create the rhythm of rest. Ridding my brain of the burdens of responsibilities is reminiscent of that carnival game, Wac-a-Mole. Just when you pound down one sinister mole who is grinning at you with mockery, another pops up in his place, taunting your incompetency to squelch their annoying presence. And so it goes with my thoughts of work. Lesson planning. Grading. Student worries. Lesson planning. Conversations with colleagues. Grading. Position security. Negative complaining. Lesson modification. Vindictive politics. Mole. Wac. Mole. Wac. There I lay, swinging away with that foam bat, out of breath, and I haven't even risen for the day yet! Paul was not kidding when he used war language to describe the mental battlefield: "Take captive every thought..."
How many of us have our lives ruled by thoughts of work? Our lives are dictated by a job that is suppose to be our livelihood, yet in the end--though it fills our bank account--it repletes our soul. Mine has. It has consumed me, distracted me, tired me. I want to work to live...not live to work. And that is one more reason I need the Sabbath. I need to stop, and then notice, get this, that the world does not stop with me. It goes on. It survives. I am not the axis on which this globe spins. So why do I live like it? Why do I consistently feel the pressure that God has reserved for himself alone?
Not any longer. Sabbath is my pause from work, but more importantly, it is a break from the arrogance that consumes my life. The arrogance that says I have to do it all alone. All perfect. All the time.
Which ties into my next thought for this week. Monday morning as I was driving to work, I felt the strenous tension rise through my legs, through my shoulders, through my heart like the heat of an attack. Not 24 hours removed from the Sabbath, I am already consumed with anxiety for the impending week. And I thought...why does the Sabbath end? Yes, my habits, actions, and activities change; but my heart can remain in that stillness of Sunday, that serenity of Sabbath. And that is what I really want from this year. A Sabbath day yes. But God, please give me a Sabbath heart.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
The Beginning - Dave
So when Mary first brought up the idea of participating in the Sabbath I wasn't quite sure what to think. "The Sabbath". It just sounds weird, immediately bringing forth images from "Fiddler On the Roof" with everyone scrambling around to get things done before the sun sets. That was definitely not for me. After reading a few chapters on the practice and talking it through I decided maybe we should try it. After all, how bad could it be setting aside a day to just take naps, read, worry about nothing except how I'm going to spend time with my wife? And then some of the realizations hit me. We had laid down a few ground rules. No TV, no internet, nothing that would allow us to fill our time up but not force us to relax and let our brains de-stress. This is when it dawned on me the gravity of the situation. No TV I can do, but we're doing this on Sunday. Yes Sunday, the day the NFL plays. That would mean no football, no Bears, no Colts, and worse yet we weren't doing internet. I wouldn't even be able to keep up with games online, let alone check my fantasy football stats. Hmm. Now I'm not some crazy fantasy geek but football is one of the only sports I'll arrange my schedule to watch. Wasn't quite prepared for that. We came to a compromise. I would only pick one game a week to watch. It had to be chosen beforehand and if it didn't happen to be on cable, oh well. I didn't think too much about this as the Bears are a dumpster fire and the local team is almost as bad. I hadn't really been watching too much anyway. This was about two weeks ago. Before it occurred to me that not only the playoffs but the biggest game of the year was coming up. There's nothing like a little test just to see how committed you are. If I miss it though, I miss it. I'm not scrapping this thing just to watch grown men in tight spandex pants manhandle each other.
So despite my apprehensions, and there are some, I'm pretty excited about this. It will be interesting to see how it affects areas of our lives that we haven't even considered. It's daunting to think about how I now have one less day to get things done around the house, run errands etc. At the same time it's exciting to think that I now have an entire day that I have permission to read and nap. We'll see how long it takes to get rid of the guilt resulting from our protestant work ethic. This is going to be an interesting and rewarding journey.
So despite my apprehensions, and there are some, I'm pretty excited about this. It will be interesting to see how it affects areas of our lives that we haven't even considered. It's daunting to think about how I now have one less day to get things done around the house, run errands etc. At the same time it's exciting to think that I now have an entire day that I have permission to read and nap. We'll see how long it takes to get rid of the guilt resulting from our protestant work ethic. This is going to be an interesting and rewarding journey.
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