We are, for
the most part, frantic creatures. We are
so busy doing that we rarely allow time for our
spirits to catch up with us.
This is a
personal as well as a general observation.
Most of the time I feel driven to 'do'. If I am
not achieving something I tend to feel guilty.
It's as if I have to validate and justify my
existence through activity.
The poet
Stephen Dobyns captures the feeling perfectly in
his poem Pursuit:
Each thing I do I rush through so I can do
something else. In such a way do the days
pass -
a blend of stock car racing and the never
ending building of a gothic cathedral.
It's true.
Whatever I am doing I usually feel that someone
is standing behind me looking at their watch,
sighing impatiently, waiting for me to finish so
I can start something more important.
Is this
weird? Is it just me? Does anyone else share
this feeling? In what does this experience of
being driven have its roots? Stephen Dobyns asks
the same question:
And why?
What treasure do I expect in my future?
Rather it is the confusion of childhood
loping behind me, the chaos in the mind,
the failure chipping away at each success.
I think he
may be right. This is not the place for self
analysis but there is a lot that rings true for
me in those few lines.
I do not
criticise busyness. It is good to be self
motivated, to want to achieve, to move forward -
all progress in our world depends upon it.
But where do you draw the line? After a
frantically busy couple of months leading up to
Christmas, I arrived at the celebration itself
exhausted and more stressed than I can remember
ever being. I felt weighted down by what I felt
were other people's expectations of me (whether
this was an accurate perception or not). Is this
healthy? When we reached Boxing Day I felt like
a huge weight had lifted - the pressure was
finally off. The period up to new year was
uncluttered by commitments. As I write
this, part way through that period, I seem to be
spending most of it just reading and sleeping.
Downtime.
Sometimes
it's not a luxury, it's a necessity. Although
that is not to say that I don't have that little
voice behind me saying "you could be using this
time to... and what about these jobs that need
doing?...".
I wondered
what the Bible has to say about downtime. It
seems to me that God gives us a big clue right
at the start, by taking a break on day seven. If
we try to consistently work seven days a week we
are trying to out-do even God - and surely there
must be an element of arrogance in that?
In Exodus
God gives the Israelites enough food for two
days so that they do not have to go out on the
Sabbath, but can rest. Some of them go out
looking for food anyway but it proves
unproductive (and there is a powerful lesson in
that). So God has a word with Moses:
"How long will you refuse to keep my
commands and my instructions? Bear in mind
that the LORD has given you the Sabbath;
that is why on the sixth day he gives you
bread for two days. Everyone is to stay
where he is on the seventh day; no one is to
go out." So the people rested on the seventh
day.
So whatever
the problem is, it's certainly not a 21st
century one. God, in his love for us, has built
in downtime, yet many of us choose not to accept
it as the gift it is. 'Twas ever thus.
There are
many references in the New Testament to downtime
but maybe the one that is most rewarding of
reflection is
"Come to me, all you who are weary and
burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my
yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am
gentle and humble in heart, and you will
find rest for your souls. For my yoke is
easy and my burden is light."
It's pure
poetry, and a gracious invitation that may
inspire some of us to consider the way we live
today.
I don't
claim to have the answer to any of this. After
all, I'm one of the worst offenders. But it does
seem to me that reflection is called for.
The Bible is
surprisingly consistent in its references to a
day of rest, and observing a Sabbath would
probably be a pretty good start. Perhaps, also,
those of us who feel that we have to justify our
own existence by doing should take a long hard
look at just why that is, and begin to challenge
the ingrained message that drives us to live
like that. Is it, as Stephen Dobyns
suggests "the confusion of childhood loping
behind us" or something more banal that
could be fixed by some time management training,
or learning to just say "no"?
Sorry I
don't have any more solid conclusions to share
with you. But if you share this experience or
have any thoughts feel free to
.
But that's
enough writing for one day. I'm sure you will
understand, this is my downtime. I'm
determined, for once, to make the most of it.
With
blessings from all of us at St. Andrew's.
Adrian
Webmaster
NOTE: I am the webmaster of St. Andrew's
Church, not clergy or a reader. I write as 'a man in a pew'
so you should not assume that I necessarily know what I'm
talking about, or that what I say reflects the views of other people
in our church.