Rhythms of Grace
Reflections on taking a Sabbatical
In the summer of 2006, I began my service as a pastor. I had just graduated from college with a degree in theology and at the time I felt unquestionably called to the path. Today, over eight years, a Master’s Degree, an ordination ceremony, 2 sons, 3 houses, and a few pounds later – I still sense God’s voice inviting me to continue perusing this challenging, inspiring, joyful, sometimes painful, honorable, and holy work.
Perhaps like some of those who run their own businesses or who work on salary, pastors have the opportunity and responsibility to set their own agendas and thereby fluctuate the intensity of their work schedules. Rarely in my observations of pastoral colleagues, this creates the temptation to do the minimum in order to get the maximum return. Far more often, in their autonomy pastors tend to succumb to the pressure to work much harder and longer than is healthy or sustainable. Furthermore, perhaps like many professionals, pastors are required to perform expertly within a multifaceted and complex set of job requirements – some of which fit within their natural proficiencies, some of which do not. With only 24 hours in a day – stress and anxiety can mount.
Add to this the ubiquitous pressures of finances, cultural expectations, health concerns, and family commitments, and becomes not-so-surprising that American pastors suffer from depression, obesity, high-blood pressure, and other common stress-related maladies at a higher rate than that of the general population. The truth is that that pace of pastoral ministry can make it ironically difficult to slow down, reflect, recalibrate, and re-center – ensuring that all things are in their proper place.
Hear me though. Pastors aren’t victims. We’re not alone in our challenges and we’ve entered this line of work with full hearts. I write the above paragraphs simply to acknowledge the reality that while I find pastoral work beautiful and life giving, I also find that I have to keep very close tabs on my boundaries for that work. While it is the career to which God has called me to right now, He has also called me to be a Father, Husband, and mature Man in this world. Pastoral leadership, like many paths, is a difficult and joyous one – something that must be carefully stewarded.
Over the past eight years on my journey as a pastor, I’ve continually held this tension; giving myself passionately to my work while also remaining faithful to my family and heart. So beginning this month, I have the opportunity to take a 10-week Sabbatical to reflect, recalibrate, and re-center – ensuring that all things are in their proper place. The regional organizing body for my church has a policy that allows for these respites every seven years of continual service and I’m incredibly grateful for it. This present moment is an especially ideal time for me personally because my wife just brought our second son, Sawyer, into the world. So in a sense, this time will also serve as a stand-in ‘paternity leave’ in a country which barely recognizes the importance of time at home for Mom let alone for Dad.
The term ‘sabbatical’ is rooted of course in the Biblical practice of Sabbath keeping; resting from regular work on the seventh-day of each week, spending it with family, friends, and in worship. With this being said, a ‘sabbatical’ itself isn’t a Biblical practice per se but rather a practical development rooted in the spirit of Biblical imagery. I think of Leviticus 25, where Moses outlines the principle of leaving fields and vineyards fallow every seventh year or the year of Jubilee in that same book where every “seven Sabbaths” (meaning every 49 years) the children of Israel were to return all lands and debts to their original families and owners. A common thread throughout the scriptures is that our value as human beings is emphatically not tied to how much we produce (be they bricks, grapes, cities, or churches, etc.) and practicing Sabbath is a way of reminding ourselves of that.
Sabbaticals first became popular in American culture among university professors around the turn of the 20th century at schools like Harvard, Cornell, and Columbia. In each of those instances, the Sabbatical was used as extended leave for research, writing, or other academic work that couldn’t be accomplished while engaged in regular instruction. In this sense, the sabbatical wasn’t introduced primarily as a spiritual practice for rejuvenation so much as it was created for increasing productivity. Professors who took advantage of the policies would no doubt add value and notoriety to the university through their products produced during the time off.
The juxtaposition between the original inspiration of sabbatical and its initial application is stark. In a sense, its ironic – using a kind of Sabbath to produce yet another thing. This temptation to turn Sabbath (and sabbaticals) into a different form of work is understandable to me as I look at it from a management standpoint through American economy shaded glasses. We are ever-focused on the bottom line and so everything must add up – everything must be justified. Even breaks. And in truth, perhaps the organizations that hold the highest standards of accountability in this regard are also the most successful. However I find it a sort of cruel twist to turn this particular practice – one which seeks to invite us to stop creating, stop performing, stop earning, and simply be – into something that grapples to create, perform, and earn.
As I made my request last spring to the accountability body of my current church as well as to the regional conference, I was asked to describe the rationale for my sabbatical as well as what I would accomplish during the time away. Regardless of what my ideals might be regarding this season, it would seem that American value of productivity is hard to shuffle off.
So besides my necessary and important time with my family, rest and rejuvenation, and rekindling of the fire to serve in this capacity, I also am working on a book project. The focus is on the relationship between secrecy and spiritual maturity; it’s something I’ve been tinkering with for about a year now and despite my misgivings about the irony of ‘working’ during this time, I’m excited to have dedicated time to finish my draft.
I have to admit – while I’m incredibly grateful for the chance to take sabbatical leave, I also feel a modicum of guilt for going through with it in some ways. I don’t run my own business but I know that almost anyone who is self-employed or in the lower-wage jobs, has an incredibly difficult time breaking free (if at all) for an extended period of time such as this. What gives me the right to do this? What is so special about my line of work that makes me worthy for this privilege? I think also of my colleagues, volunteers, and mentorees who will work harder to pick up the slack in my absence. Why should I be the one to get this gift and not any one of them?
Thus even I myself am not free from the effects of the American work ethic and thus this silly hypocrisy. I have a difficult time even accepting the sabbatical freely – despite the fact that the gift is legitimately and happily given. The parallel between this scenario and the way I struggle at resting in God’s grace is undeniable in my mind.
And so, as the topic of Sabbath often does, this experience will be yet another exercise open-handed acceptance of the unconditional love of Jesus. As we practice Sabbath (or sabbaticals), we are reminded that ‘no, nothing I’ve done can (or could have) earn this.’ I can hear the voice of Jesus speaking quietly, “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me — watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” (Matt. 11:28–30)
Photo Credit: Melissa McFadden Photography
