Ain’t Got No Time
There’s an old song that features the idea that there’s no time. And I’ve definitely had my share of days that needed more than 24 hours. So how do we balance the business of modern life with the idea that God wants us to rest. Seriously. Peace, rest, choosing the better portion… scripture seems to tell us time and again that working too hard isn’t the way.
In fact, my current favorite radical theological thought, has to do with working less not more. If the punishment for Adam being kicked out of the garden of Eden is to toil, then theoretically, if we return to the garden, if we are living in God’s perfect kingdom, we would no longer have to toil. Like I said, a radical theological thought. Who on earth would suggest working less? Good protestant work ethic has been a thing for ages. Working hard is how you earn and deserve things. Work will set you free!
Oh dear. Work will set you free… the famous words inscribed above the gates at Auschwitz. How did we end up back here again? The weaponization of theology? The idea that we do have work to do in our faith as the grace is not cheap, but it does come free. But then someone using the idea that we have to participate in our own transformation instead of relying on Jesus to set us free, show us the way, and redeem us. How do we think through our faith, question, ponder, wonder, and otherwise actually cogitate about our faith when we don’t have time to breathe, much less rest?
And it’s so unfair to say, oh, just find some time in your day. As. If. And woe be upon the person who says you’ve brought this upon yourself. I do not have fond memories of being a college student, working two part time jobs, taking twenty-one credit hours, and being on housing staff. One semester plan for absolute burnout and lack of social life. And to my professors credit, I got extensions on most major projects and only had to cry once for each of them. But clearly that’s not the ideal.
Confession- one of my first nights here in town I worked a bit in the office, had some coffee and conversation with a neighbor, read a book, went out for dinner, and came home to read some more. And as I curled up on my little love seat with a book and some nice music, I suddenly found myself crying. And it took me a minute to figure out why. You see, for the first time, in a long time, I was at peace. Totally and completely. And now for the worst part. Looking at your own life. When is the last time you knew peace? Not just a moment of calm in the storm, but peace? If it’s been a minute, what can we do as a congregation to help you find it? What can I as your pastor do to help you find that same joy?
This matters to me because I like to live out those radical theological thoughts from time to time. I would want to live in a world where everyone had enough to eat, had a home, had occupation that results in thoughts of “they pay me to do this?” more than “I work to pay the bills”, and knew not only the freedom and peace that comes from a relationship with God, but the kind of restoration that comes from being able to keep a sabbath day and keep it holy. And that’s the kind of work that I always have time to do.
