Free Time

Are you a good steward of your time?

As a kid growing up spending summers at camp was the best! I loved so much about my weeks away from home—horseback riding, arts & crafts, the ropes course, camping out, s’mores, canoes, and night activities! There was one block of time each day though that I did not like.

In fact, I despised this hour above all other times. No, it was not swim tests. Although I did not like having to prove I could swim and tread water each and every summer. WHAT? Did I forget how to swim this year? Come on! Nor was my least favorite time at camp dancing with yucky girls who had cooties—I mean even as an awkward and pimply twelve year old I enjoyed dancing. I even liked the complete lack of air-conditioning, the time away from TV, and the gross bathhouses. The time I could not stand, I could not tolerate, I could not abide was none other than “rest period.”

You may think that I am a calm, laid-back, and contemplative person. And, as your pastor, I really aspire to be a non-anxious presence. But, my true self is like a duck. On the surface I look placid, and yet underneath the water level there’s always churning and movement and activity. So, as a tween to ask me to nap or to be quiet or even to just sit on my bed during rest period was the greatest agony. Yes, I did have a cushy childhood! Still, I did not learn the great joy of napping or resting or even relaxing until much later. Even now I’m not good at it. And, I’m not alone.

We as a society cannot calm down. We are not good at resting. As someone recently told me, “I don’t do nothing well.” We don’t do nothing well. We are bad at sitting still. We are like kids who have been loaded up with sugar before bedtime or campers who can’t sit still at nap time. So what do we do when Jesus invites us to “Come away to a deserted place all by [ourselves] and rest a while”? How do we slow down enough to even hear him saying this to us? Can we even allow ourselves to take moments of leisure? Can we utilize that time wisely?

You may recall that each month here at St. John’s we have a stewardship focus. Fittingly enough, given today’s Gospel lesson, July’s concentration centers on the Stewardship of Leisure. On the surface even the phrase “Stewardship of Leisure” sounds silly, for leisure is spare time, time off, or free time used for enjoyment. Why not let it just be spontaneous? Why plan out free time? Doesn’t that sort of structure defeat the purpose of leisure? To answer these questions think about some free time or a vacation that felt unfulfilling. Maybe you came back more tired than when you left.

When we do not use our down time effectively it is akin to eating empty calories or spending superfluous money on something that does not bring lasting joy or serve a larger purpose. Sadly I have had a few retreats and vacations that actually depleted me instead of recharging me. Those unsatisfying moments of leisure were such because I did not think from the perspective of being a good steward of what God was giving me. In other words, I did not recognize that the time away was a gift from God. I was a bad steward of my time.

To listen to Jesus’ call to come away with him to a quiet place of refreshment is not about having the perfect plan. For that sort of over-scheduling can in and of itself defeat the work of the Spirit to create new spirits in us. So what does being a good steward of leisure look like? What does following Jesus in our free time require? Well, what does today’s good news teach us?

Friends, there’s a hole in the middle of today’s Gospel lesson. In that space (6:35-6:52) is the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand. Don’t worry over the next five Sundays we will hear way too much about Jesus and bread to make up for this week’s missing piece. But, it’s important to see how Jesus’ invitation to come away to a deserted place did not turn out exactly according to what we might expect.

Jesus invited the apostles to rest awhile. But, that time of respite was cut short, as the Spirit intervened in the way of many tired persons who were hungry. They descended upon Jesus and his friends as soon as the protagonists reached the shore.

This onslaught of people meant that the disciples had no leisure time, not even to eat. And, so tired and hungry from their own missionary work, they were looking forward to a little rest and relaxation. Instead the disciples were tasked with helping Jesus feed the masses. It was as though a feeding ministry broke out in the midst of their retreat center! The time that God had given the disciples to rest was now time when God was asking them to work. Ugh! I can feel the disdain and frustration from two thousand years away. So what? Does Jesus not really want us to rest? Are we supposed to give until we are burnt out, broke, and bone-tired?

Perhaps the fruit of this passage grows from an exploration of the way we use not only our free time but all time. Back in May we focused on this precise thing: the Stewardship of Time. During that month your clergy urged you to explore creating a rule of life, or as our Presiding Bishop Michael Curry recently called it, a way of love. The purpose of this way is to find everyday practices that encourage and challenge us to give our first fruits to God—to give our best time to forming habits that nourish our relationship with Christ. When you thrive in your way of love, when you dedicate yourself to a rule of life, when you give your best moments of the day to God, then all time gets transformed. This isn’t always easy to remember though.

During seminary I often felt like I had too much to do—papers to write, sermons to prepare, and field education to experience. Sometimes I would just do the bare minimum. I would go to the required one chapel each day, but I shirked a second or third opportunity to spend that time with God and fellow students—to give that time to God.

One day I was walking back from class with a friend. He began to turn toward the chapel and I started toward my apartment. I said, “I went to Morning Prayer already. I don’t have time to go to Eucharist today.” He responded humbly, “I don’t know what I have time to do until I go to chapel. Afterward my priorities are straight.” Needless to say, I turned around and went to chapel.

Maybe in that moment I felt a tinge of guilt—like one of the disciples who really just wanted to rest and not deal with the hungry thousands. Slowly though I have realized how wise my friend’s words were. Every moment of every day, God gifts us with the present. Each new day overflows with opportunities to grow our relationship with God.

We need times of Sabbath, restoration, and healing, or else we will not be able to sustain our personal and collective ministries. However, whether it is free time, work time, family time, personal time, prayer time, or other time God gives us each second, minute, hour, day, week, month, and year. All of it is a gift.

At all times and in all places we are called to give thanks to God for the present we receive. Some of those moments will be Jesus calling us away to a deserted place. And, other moments will be times to forget our needs and serve those who are hungry. If we continue to give our best moments to God we will discover something amazing.

Like how the bread and wine that we put on the altar each week gets transformed into our Eucharistic Sacraments: the Body of Christ, the Bread of Heaven; the Blood of Christ, the Cup of Salvation. And, like how the monetary gifts we bring to the altar as symbols of ourselves get transformed into the ministries of God’s work and blessing in this world. When we give our time to God, God transforms it and God changes us.

Each nanosecond we receive from God is already a gift. God beckons us to give each moment back so that it may be blessed and sanctified. This may mean that we experience moments of calm in a quiet place with Christ. It could also mean that the tranquil times are interrupted by a chance for ministering to another. All moments are a gift. When we recognize that all time is gift it is easy to give the present back to God.