Teddy loves camp, but like his dad cannot stand this one part...
July 18, 2021—The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost—Proper 11
2 Samuel 7:1-14a
Psalm 89:20-37
Ephesians 2:11-22
Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
© 2021 Seth Olson
A couple of weeks back, I had the honor of directing a camp session at Camp Winnataska. It was the first time my son Teddy—a fifth generation camper there—got to experience this 103 year-old interdenominational church camp. I was reminded why time at camp is the best! Through his experience I could see such joy—horseback riding, time on the creek, singing songs, swimming in the pool, and being in the woods! There was one block of time each day though that was a struggle. And, it reminded me of how much I did not like this hour when I was a camper.
I despised this time above all other times. No, it was not swim tests. Nor was it dancing with yucky girls who had cooties—I mean even as an awkward and pimply tween, I liked to dance. I even liked the complete lack of air-conditioning, the time away from TV, and the not-so-clean 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 do 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 camper to ask me to nap or be quiet or even sit still 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 later. Even now I’m not good at it. And, I’m not alone.
We as a society cannot calm down. Even during the last fifteen months of Pandemic time when much of the world slowed down, there were many people burning themselves out! This tells me, we are not good at resting. As someone once told me, “I don’t do nothing well.” Incorrect grammar aside—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 just can’t sit still during rest 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 utilize Sabbath time or moments of respite wisely?
In the Church we often talk about Stewardship of money or resources or even volunteering opportunities. But, just as important as our stewardship of these gifts is the stewardship of our time. As we enter the last bit of summer vacation, I wonder, how can we be good stewards of our times of leisure?
On the surface the phrase “Stewardship of Leisure” sounds silly, for leisure is spare time, time off, or free time used for refreshment. Why not let it just be spontaneous? Why worry about free time? Doesn’t that sort of structure defeat the purpose? 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 spending important monetary funds on something that you do not need, that does not bring lasting joy, or does not serve a larger purpose. Sadly, I have experienced a few retreats and vacations that depleted me instead of recharging me. Those unsatisfying moments of leisure were such because I did not think from the perspective of good stewardship. I was not thankful for 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 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 time or time in general look like? Well, what does today’s good news teach us?
As you might have noticed, there is 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 as we might expect.
Jesus invited the apostles to rest awhile. And yet, that time of respite was cut short, as the Spirit intervened in the way of many tired souls seeking sustenance. 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. Tired and hungry from their own missionary work, the disciples had been looking forward to a little rest and relaxation. Instead, they were tasked with helping Jesus feed the masses. It was as though a feeding ministry broke out in the middle of their retreat center! The time that God had given the disciples to rest was now time when God was asking them to work. Can anyone here relate to life throwing something unexpected your way?
Maybe all of us can think of a time during the last year and a half when we thought one thing would happen, but something else entirely came to be. Parents who thought having children at home would be great only to realize that teachers do not get paid enough money. College students who rejoiced at not having to get out of bed for class, then realized that Zoom classes can be more work than in-person classes. Recent retirees who looked forward to down time, but then struggled because of isolation during the Pandemic.
So, what do we do when life surprises us? Are we never to rest? Are we 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 see not only our free time but all time. Maybe you have heard of the practice of a rule of life, or as our Presiding Bishop Michael Curry calls 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 framework that grows your relationship with God and neighbor, 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 work to do at my field parish. 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.
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 become clearer.” After a deep exhale, I turned around and went to chapel.
Maybe in that moment I felt a tinge of guilt—like one of the disciples who 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 and one another.
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 or work time, family time or 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—regardless of what type of time we think it is.
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 God transforms the bread and wine that we put on the altar each week into our Eucharistic Sacraments: the Body of Christ, the Bread of Heaven; the Blood of Christ, the Cup of Salvation, and like how God transforms the monetary gifts we bring to the altar as symbols of ourselves into the ministries of healing 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. Like how a child might get markers and paper from a parent, but what they give back is pure gift for that parent! All moments are gifts. Can you recognize them as such and give them back to God? This will be easy during a calm moment with Christ, but what about when the would-be-tranquil-times are interrupted by a chance for ministering to another? Even then, this moment is a gift. When we recognize that all time is gift it is easy to give the present back to God and one another. Amen.