as quivering masses of availability. I am aware that I often bend over backwards to please people, rather than make any effort to take care of myself. The desire to be needed often trumps the desire to relax. Like Taylor, I don’t want a poor reputation among my parishioners. I don’t want to miss an opportunity for ministry. Perhaps on a deeper level, I don’t want God to be disappointed in me either. On the very first night of my first vacation as a pastor, I dreamed that one of my parishioners had just lost her mother in a tragic accident. I knew full well that this person’s mother has been dead for years. In my dream, however, she had died suddenly and everyone was waiting for me at the funeral. What a nightmare!
In my conscious mind, I know that Sabbath-keeping is not a luxury. Not only was it mandated in the Ten Commandments, the first creation story beautifully illustrates that rest was part of the original divine intention (Gen 2:1–3). Following a long tradition of Jewish interpreters, Jesus maintained that the practice was for our health and well-being: “The Sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27). Scripture teaches that God is not “disappointed” with those who honor the spiritual practice of renewal and refreshment.
When I had that nightmare about the funeral, my family was in Scotland for my father’s first sabbatical after twenty-five years of ministry. This was an amazing opportunity, and I tried to relax. From a train window, I looked over the landscape of northwestern Scotland and noticed a great similarity to southwestern Virginia. Just like back home, I saw purple wildflowers, red farmhouses, gray distant mountains, and green rolling hills. Yet not everything was the same: because Scotland is farther north, the climate is colder and the growing season is later. While grain was still growing in their fields, the hay was cut and baled back in Dublin. I have come to think of this difference as a fitting metaphor for the Sabbath. My time away is not the time for harvesting; the work I was called to do at New Dublin is finished like the baled hay. This realization has continued to help me relax, even long after my family came back and I returned to work.
I’ve also tried to honor the Sabbath as part of my worship of God. In retrospect, Taylor learned a profound spiritual reason, not simply to take a day off, but to obey the Sabbath commandment: “The clear promise is that those who rest like God find themselves free like God, no longer slaves to the thousand compulsions that send others rushing towards their graves.”2 No longer quivering masses of availability, we are free to serve others out of love. I once told my wife that I would stop at nothing until I had led her to happiness. I was referring to my new position as a pastor and about how I was going to make everything perfect in Dublin for us. Ginny replied, “Take my hand, and we’ll find our way together.”
As we are all on a journey through life, I have come to believe that we need the support of other people in order to keep the Sabbath.
SABBATH FOR US
There is an Amish community less than thirty miles from New Dublin Presbyterian Church. Since some of my parishioners live in this area, I have a unique window and fascinating insight into the Amish lifestyle.
First of all, the Amish take the Sabbath seriously. Very seriously. On Sunday, their businesses are closed, only the most basic chores are completed, and everyone goes to worship. At first glance, their community seems to be in perfect harmony with the rhythms of work and rest. But the Amish lifestyle does not mean peace for everyone.
The Amish straddle a fine line with their non-Amish neighbors, referred to as “the English.” While they are intentional about restricting outside influence upon their way of life, the Amish impact the lives of others, especially in a small community. Some of these influences are minor inconveniences, such as horse manure on the roads. Others, however, are quite jarring. Though the Amish do not drive gasoline-powered vehicles, they do hire huge trucks and other pieces of large equipment to build their homes, farms, and businesses. I spoke with one “English” neighbor who bitterly complained that the Amish have inundated their peaceful community with a barrage of loud machinery. Now there is something I never expected to hear.
Despite my initial impression about their practice of the Sabbath, the Amish are not even at peace among themselves. Shortly before I arrived to the area, their community split over a theological issue. There was a charismatic movement among a few families who demanded to be re-baptized by immersion. The more traditional Amish balked, so some families “jumped the fence” and are no longer part of the community.
Let me be clear that I admire and respect much about the Amish. Rather than criticize their lifestyle, my point is that even a strict adherence to the Sabbath does not necessarily translate to peace and harmony. Furthermore, I certainly do not wish to appear overly critical of others because there is a great deal of tension and the potential for schism in my own tradition.
During my first summer at New Dublin, the Presbyterian Church of the United States of America was embroiled yet again in the controversy over the ordination of gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people. Our general assembly passed an amendment to the ordination standards, which meant that the proposal was sent to the presbyteries. This process is roughly analogous to the United States Congress approving an amendment to the Constitution and needing ratification from the states. In the PC (USA), Amendment 10A passed in 2011.
The goal of the amendment, as I understand it, was actually to make the standards for ordination more reflective of a person’s total commitment to the faith. The language of Amendment 10A required each person to “submit joyfully to the Lordship of Jesus Christ” as part of the requirements of ordination. I find it ironic that many of those against this change would fully support such a statement in other contexts. In this case, opposition arose because the new language replaced the ordination standard known as the “fidelity and chastity” clause, which mandated fidelity in marriage and chastity in singleness. Since marriage is defined exclusively between a man and a woman, this clause effectively barred people in same gender relationships from ordination.
For me, this national debate was deeply personal; several of my dearest friends could not serve the church they love with their talents, hearts, and minds because of the gender of the person whom they loved. I support Amendment 10A so that all may serve who are gifted by God for ordained ministry. Though I realize the debate is divisive, it is my opinion that ultimately our church will become stronger, larger, and more faithful because of the gifted individuals who are now able to serve alongside us.
Opinions about this amendment vary at New Dublin. We have both card-carrying Republicans and bumper sticker Democrats. Though I am to the left of the majority of my parishioners on the issue of homosexual ordination, I try to be respectful to every single person. For many on both sides, this issue hits close to home. Regardless of one’s opinion about an amendment, always remember that an issue may have a face, and that face may be a loved one.
While everyone is not going to agree, we can strive for unity—we can continue to worship and work together in ministry. New Dublin understands this better than most churches I’ve encountered. It seems to me that our ability to live together, despite our differences of opinion, is related to our practice of Sabbath.
During the spring and fall, New Dublin Presbyterian Church makes time for “lemonade on the lawn.” Immediately after worship, we gather under the canopy of oak trees outside of the sanctuary. Perhaps we have other places to be; maybe we have important responsibilities elsewhere. But we stop, at least for a moment, and we drink lemonade, eat cookies, and talk to each other. People who disagree on any number of issues still shake hands.
Before our country church is hopelessly stereotyped, I must maintain that our parishioners are just as busy as anyone else in our community. In fact, we seem to get busier all the time. While I was active in sports as a child, it is routine for today’s youth to practice a musical instrument, attend an after-school meeting, and play a sports game on the same day. When I was growing up in North Carolina, we did not even have practice or rehearsal on Sundays.
