This post is a follow-up my 8/14 post, “The Church in Burnout”, in which I maintained that the root of clergy burnout is the decline of denominational loyalty and the subsequent rise of consumerist religion. G. Jeffrey McDonald, a journalist and fellow UCC minister, made a similar observation in a recent New York Times editorial. Both McDonald and I take issue with the usual conclusion of studies on clergy burnout – that it is caused by pastors’ lack of self-care and its remedy lies in taking more time off from work. Both of us believe the underlying problem is too profound to be solved by a couple more weeks of vacation.
Having made that case, I do not want to leave the impression that Sabbath is not important. Indeed, it is crucial for all of us, which is why God commanded it, and clergy need it as much as everybody else. This is on my mind because I just returned from a much-needed two-week vacation, though I don’t particularly like the word “vacation.” I prefer to say that I entered into an extended Sabbath from all my church-related responsibilities. And I will be the first to admit that it took me too many years to understand the importance of my own Sabbath.
All those studies on clergy burnout show pretty convincingly that clergy do not get enough rest. A large percentage of pastors turn down vacation time that is generously given by their congregations because they are afraid of what will happen while they are gone. In addition, too many pastors who take vacation time fail to draw clear boundaries with their parishioners, and wind up doing pastoral care over the phone or interrupting time with family to “take care of one or two things” when they are supposed to be free of all pastoral duties. Pastors sometimes, even unintentionally, enable unhealthy co-dependent relationships with their parishioners in order to feel relevant and needed. Besides, the strokes we get when people praise us for “always being there” are hard to resist. Doesn’t that mean we are reflecting the always-present God?
In the Torah, God prescribed three levels of Sabbath for the people of Israel: one day of rest from their labors every week, a year of rest for the land every seventh year, and a year of rest for the entire economy (defined as forgiving all debts, freeing all slaves, and returning all land to its original owners) after seven weeks of seven years. In the same spirit, I believe it is important that churches encourage their pastors to observe three levels of Sabbath: a weekly day of rest (which has to be a day other than Sunday), extended Sabbath time totaling four to six weeks per year, and a three-month sabbatical every five to ten years.
I confess that I didn’t even get serious about a weekly Sabbath day until just a few years ago. I tried taking a half-day off, and that was really a half-hearted Sabbath. If it isn’t a 24-hour Sabbath, it doesn’t work. I also confess that in the early years of my ministry, I sometimes failed to take all the vacation time the church had given me. And I kept making excuses about not taking a sabbatical until the Council of my church basically ordered me to take one.
But I will never make those mistakes again. Sabbath is not only restorative. It is a reminder that the effectiveness of my ministry does not depend on my productivity. It depends upon the grace and presence of God. My calling is not to draw attention to myself and my abilities; it is to point people toward God. If I never take the time simply to be in God’s presence, how can I possibly give direction to those who seek God? This does not mean, however, that Sabbath is all about solitude and contemplation. It is all about prayer, but my understanding of prayer has broadened immensely as I have learned the true meaning of Sabbath. The distinction between praying and playing can be very thin, even non-existent at times. Some of my most playful moments have been times of exuberant, spontaneous praise. I have come to appreciate how much God enjoys sharing in my fun.
Of course, church members do not live in an economy that values Sabbath. A few, like teachers, take occasional sabbaticals, but they are expected to prove the value of their sabbaticals upon return, which means they aren’t true sabbaths. Those church members who balk at pastoral sabbaticals have my sympathy, because they have been conditioned to look upon sabbaticals as luxuries, or worse, as unproductive. Fortunately, such naysayers in my congregation were so isolated in their objections to my sabbatical that I never felt anything but the support of the church. But once or twice, I did say that I wished everyone could have a true sabbatical from work, and that just because Sabbath is not honored everywhere doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be honored anywhere. Or, let’s put it another way: if church pastors do not model the value of Sabbath, who will?
The more Sabbath is woven into the fabric of my life, the more I appreciate the need for the church to provide Sabbath opportunities, even if only for brief moments during the week, to our parishioners, many of whom are “harassed an helpless, like sheep without a shepherd” in this frantic, anxious, competitive world. Churches like to think of themselves as “active,” which is often a euphemism for “busy.” We certainly want to be vibrant in our ministries, but shouldn’t churches provide times and places for people to stop and rest in God’s presence? It doesn’t take much intention to reflect our busy world. It takes faith and prayer to provide true Sabbath.
Copyright 2010 by J. Mark Lawson
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