A Time for Rest

Dear Church,

I am profoundly grateful for my sabbatical this summer. Having three months off, altering my daily routine and being able to travel and spend time with loved ones, was such a gift to me and to my family.

I have never been good at resting. Give me time at home and after sitting on the couch for a couple minutes, I’ll inevitably see some dust that needs to be swept or an opportunity to reorganize my bookshelf. Even on retreats, I often fill my time with tasks: read that book I’ve had on my list for months, exercise towards a goal, work on a writing project (see? even when taking intentional time to rest I involve the word “work”!)

I have been trapped in the cult of productivity for as long as I can remember. I bought into the idea that “rest” had to be earned, that I had to reach a certain goal before I “deserved” to do something enjoyable. My sabbatical helped me break away from those thought patterns in a big way.

While my husband Scotty and I hiked our pilgrimage along St. Cuthbert’s Way, we were not physically resting, but our minds and spirits were resting: our brains were focused only on putting one foot in front of the other and witnessing the beauty of God’s Creation in a new way. While we walked, we had long periods of silence where each of us were lost in thought. Other times we’d recite poetry or remember funny stories. Other times I sang hymns or Taizé chants or made up silly lyrics to popular tunes. In the evening when our bodies were tired and we had reached our accommodations for the night, we would go over the day together, naming challenges and gratitudes and surprises. We’d massage our tired feet. We’d record our experiences in my journal, making sure to note the names and stories of the locals we’d met or the fellow travelers we’d joined on the trail.

Some of you are very familiar with walking meditation, such as using a labyrinth or slow walking through your neighborhoods. The restfulness that the mind reaches when doing this kind of moving meditation is, for me, a kind of resting in God’s presence. Being aware of God in a physical way: as breath moving through my lungs, as water giving my cells life, as muscles flexing and relaxing, as sweat keeping me cool, as my skin absorbing the harsh wind and also the warmth of the sun.

After we completed the pilgrimage, I found that it was easier for me to accept rest as my main responsibility this summer (I guess walking 50+ miles over 6 days really does shake things up). Rest became, for me, not simply sitting and doing nothing (though sometimes it was!), but reading for pleasure, looking at art and listening to music, satisfying my curiosity about both family and world history, going slow through my days and doing my best to be present in my own life.

I recognize what a privilege a sabbatical is, and I give immense thanks for all who made this possible for me. I hope that in the future we can help one another rest, remind each other that we are more than our productivity, that we are worthy of love in ways completely separate from our work output. I pray that we will each contribute to community, to networks of mutual aid, to labor movements that strive for justice for all who work, so that rest—and sabbaticals—are available to as many people as possible. Because I believe God wants us to know deep in our beings that rest is our right as Their beloved children.

I love you and I love being your pastor,

Rev. Anita