Behold, I am doing a new thing…
Isaiah 43:9
Let us not become weary doing good.
Galatians 6:9
Don’t just do something, sit there.
Many authors
Dear Friends in Christ,
Our faith is a combination of action and stillness. One account is that God worked for six days and then commanded all creation to rest for a day. The literal translation of shabath is “cease.” Or as some wag expressed, we are human beings, not human doings. So what does this mean for our church?
Well, celebrate all that has been done recently. Our Deacons organized very moving Palm/Passion Sunday worship to start Holy Week, another powerful Good Friday offering, and three gatherings Easter morning with a sense of a pre-covid attendance (even on school vacation week). Our mission leaders have had regular invitations to events large and small: a meal, an undershirt donation project, and roughly when you read this a walk to support homeless families. Our lay leaders have updated our by-laws, begun editing our Safe Church policy, and drafted a budget that we’ll see in late May (or you can see it now, if you want!). You may not have noticed but our Music Director, CE Director, and pastor all had thorough professional evaluations. My own was twelve pages, based on almost twenty interviews. Now, thankfully, we are getting ready for the summer, when some of us do rest a bit.
Because that’s the seventh-day advice: don’t just do something: sit there. Pause. Listen. Renew. We’ve “done” three things to encourage this, but there is more to ponder. For three weeks in Lent after-hour conversation explored how Sanctuary can restore us, and what it means to us. In two committee meetings we’ve asked what folks need or desire in worship and prayer. Twice recently in worship we’ve invited petitions for prayer, not counting our Healing Worship Prayer Circles. But we need a further model for articulating our sustaining practices: our model for rest and restoration in worship and other gatherings. So this is an invitation to discover more:
What sermon topics would nurture your soul? What shall we be praying for these days? What else do you “need” from your church? What do you see that your neighbors need, that might draw them together with us? What is inspiring you lately, that you can share?
Or, what should we be doing that we are not? How might we be resting that we are not?
The last day of April I attended a mandatory clergy training on mental health, burnout, and the pressures of these days. Whatever our theology or politics, economic pressures are on all of us these days. Electronic demands are on all of us (did you reply to that email within 60 minutes?). Years ago some non-profits observed compassion fatigue (so many global crises in the news that folks didn’t know how to focus). At my training we were warned about De-Personalization, or a reduction in empathy and even an expression of bitterness. Certainly I see it. Certainly our faith cares about it. How shall we address it?
There is a theological claim that Joy is a subversive, counter-cultural, resistant expression. The same is said for hope: choosing hope not only reflects Jesus’ faith and practice, but it pushes against pessimism and seeds the same in others. Choosing places of hope and joy as our restoration then nurtures action, or, being hopeful inspires doing hopeful things. It’s like that laughter yoga: once you get going, you go new, unexpected places.
The questions above are not rhetorical — they take us to new places. I’d love your answers about focus, prayer, the needs of our neighbors and of our selves. How to be a place of action and rest. Not to tire of doing good, of doing new things, and of simply being together. As a place that combines action and stillness, or, God’s church. So, reply all.
Peace be with you,
