On
a scale of 1 to 10, how stressed are you?
Now I am not talking about how stressed you are at Christmas because we all
know that everyone is stressed at Christmas – all that shopping online and
driving to the mall, mailing packages, sending cards, entertaining, traveling. No – I am not harkening back to
December.
After
all, it is March. It is Daylight
Savings. It is the first Sunday in
Lent. We are six weeks away from Easter,
the ultimate springtime festival.
Though
we are still deep in winter, Christmas is in the past. No – I am talking about today. On a scale of 1 to 10 today, how
stressed are you?
10
= Someone call an ambulance!
9 =
Crazy Busy is the only phrase to describe me.
8 =
I’m not going crazy … but I can see crazy from here …
7 =
“Exhausted” is my middle name.
6 =
I can really use a vacation – and I just got back from one!
5 =
How many days (hours/minutes) until vacation?
4 =
My calendar is a wee bit on the heavy side.
3 =
Feelin’ groovy!
2 =
Ommmmmmm.
1 =
I and the Universe are One.
If you rated yourself 6 or above on my
informal scale, you should listen up because our Lenten series this year could
be life-changing for you. If you rated yourself 5 or under, you ought to listen
as well because we are also going to reflect on how you might more positively
utilize all the energy and time you have in these weeks leading up to Easter.
Wherever you ranked yourself on my
scale, face it: Life and stress go
hand-in-hand. In the United States –
more so than in most nations – we tend to measure success by how busy we are,
the busier the better. Always being on
the go signifies that we are being productive, and that is good.
Methodist pastor and worship consultant
Marcia McFee noted that: “being ‘busy’ has become a measure of worth in our
society. We get big points for productivity, collecting accomplishments, having
and being ‘more’”.
And so we feel naked without our smart
phones. We say we hate email but most of
us still feel compelled to check it at least several times a day, so we will
not miss anything important. We would be lost without the virtual
connections our social media accounts are supposed to offer us. We text in our cars and in restaurants. We listen for the telltale jingle of a
message when we sit with our families around the dining room table. We are proud of the fact that we multi-task
and even prouder if we only get five hours of sleep a night - though four would
be better. Not a single one of us would
ever admit to watching soap operas in the afternoon as we sit around eating
bonbons.
Whether we are retired or still
working, “a hectic pace” is an apt phrase to describe the way we live. And yet, as Mahatma Gandhi once observed,
“There is more to life than increasing its speed.”
Is it any wonder then that most – if
not all of us – deep down inside – or maybe at the surface - experience a weariness:
a tiredness that wells up from all the crazy and complex intersections and
twists and turns of our life journey – the physical frailties, all the
emotional heartbreaks, what is going on with our children and grandchildren,
and - no matter your political
proclivities - even the despicable stuff going on in Washington these
days.
Sometimes it
is a blow that we do not even see coming that knocks us flat. It was like that for Harry Houdini the
magician - literally. Houdini was best known for his ability to escape from what
seemed to be impossible situations. Straitjackets, chains, ropes, jail cells,
strange devices such as a milk pail filled with water - he managed to escape
from one situation after another in full view of his audience.
What did him
in, however, was the blow he never saw coming. While reclining on a couch
backstage after a performance he was asked by a couple of college students if
he could withstand a punch to the stomach. When he answered that he could, one
of the students surprised him by actually punching him several times. These
blows caught him off guard, and he ruptured an already aggravated appendix,
dying a week later.
OK - It is a
grisly story, I admit, and it is not always the unexpected that pushes us over
the edge. More often, it all just piles
up – and we grow tired, deep soul tired.
Now, the point
of my dwelling on the stress and weariness that grips us, is that, as McFee
points out, “we are paying a high price in self-esteem, physical health,
enjoyment of life, and connecting to one another. We are losing out on depth
in our lives the more we spread ourselves thin.”
To compensate, some of us turn to
eating. Others of us binge watch
“Poldark” or “Outlander.” Some of us
turn to Amazon and shop. Others of us
take a year off from everything and go to New Zealand without computer, phone,
or agenda. Many of us (more
realistically) rely on the self-help shelves at Bridgton Books – some of us
even resorting to tidying up, hoping that doing so will bring life-changing
magic to our lives as the author promises when we hold up each object and
article of clothing we own and ask if it brings us joy.
Maybe it is just because I am a pastor,
but I do not believe that any of those solutions for our lives lived too fast
work in the long term. And so I suggest
that we turn to church and to God and to this season of Lent to find the solace
that we seek.
Beginning today and for the next few
weeks of Lent, here in worship, let’s experiment. Let’s spend some time actually resting. Let’s
explore some Sabbath practices we can try out during the rest of the week.
Now – we are not going to fall asleep
in the pews, and we are not going to remove ourselves from the world – because neither
is what church is about – sleeping or insulating ourselves. We
are going to seek a spiritual antidote for the busyness that leads to weariness
that encroaches on our lives. We are
going to reflect on how we might re-connect to God, who, in the end, is so unhurried,
who always has the time to love and to forgive.
We are going to begin with those couple
of verses we just heard found only in the Gospel of Matthew. They have ended up on countless prayer cards
and been underlined in a boatload of Bibles.
You can probably also discover them creased and wrinkled, written on
scraps of paper in a myriad of purses and pocketbooks.
“Come to me all you
who labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.”
Admit
it: These words sound like music to our
weary hearts and souls. This promise of
rest from that family crisis, that impending surgery, or that cancer diagnosis
is so sweet, so hopeful, so refreshing!
Baptist
pastor Mel Williams once asked a wise
friend, ‘”What can we do when we face trouble after trouble and we’re feeling
overwhelmed?”
His friend replied, ‘Breathe!” (EXHALE)
He goes on to say: “We all need to exhale the anxieties,
worries, and stress of our life, and wait for Jesus’ promise to work its way,
to inhale its way, into our insides. It’s a kind of photosynthesis for the
soul. We can exhale the carbons, the toxins; inhale the spiritual oxygen.”
“Come
to me all you who labor and are heavy-laden…” Yeah, Jesus knew. He understood this weariness business. I mean, people were after him all the time –
stripping him bare – needing healing, needing forgiveness, needing hope,
needing courage, needing something. He
knew what it was like to live on empty. He can relate to our own lives – day in
and day out.
However, his promise does not end
there. Jesus continues:
“Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle
and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke
is easy, and my burden is light.”
Hmm! Now those sentences are a bit
problematic. As author Eric Eines
notes: “Do these words sound very
realistic? As attractive as they sound, our fast-paced lives make it hard
to imagine how Jesus’ invitation could possibly apply to us.
Our
schedules are so full – between work, family, and other obligations – that the
mere suggestion of a yoke that could be “easy” and a burden that could be
“light” seems absurd.”
However, if we took Jesus’ promise
seriously, could Lent this year be a time to lighten our burden and intentionally
close our eyes, kick off our shoes, and rest our souls? Could Lent this year be a time to
intentionally exhale the stress and inhale the goodness of life? We are going to slow down enough to reflect
on that idea of the easy yoke - and experiment with it during this Lenten season.
For the next six weeks, let’s
intentionally put our lives on pause – and instead of being busy, let’s try
being “unbusy”. Instead of multitasking
and texting and checking our phone so frequently, let’s try being thoughtful
about the life we are living and the life we want to live. Instead of
accomplishing more, volunteering more, working more, let’s slow down long
enough to find our right tempo and get into our unique groove.
It will not be easy. A pastor friend of mine shared her Lenten
intention to set aside time to pray twice a day. I had lunch with her the day after Ash
Wednesday, and she had already missed her morning time that first day because
she was running late for work. But she
intends to keep trying - searching for
her quiet center, her right tempo, her unhurried God.
After all, surely our life goal is, as
Episcopal priest Ian Markham noted, “to live every day, to enjoy every second,
focusing on the eternal rather than the trivial….Let the outer life reflect the
inner…. This is hard. So (in this season of Lent), we pause. We take stock. We
pray. And we ask the God that loves us to…provide us all with the strength to
become what God in Christ has already made us.”
In
this Bible passage we just read, Jesus indicates that the yoke is what provides
this needed strength Markham talks about.
Many Bible translations read that this yoke is “easy”. However, a better translation is
“well-fitting”. This yoke is
“well-fitting”. That makes sense. Even for an ox, a heavy burden is bearable if
the yoke fits.
And so it is with us: Jesus offers us a
yoke that fits. As Eric Eines remarks,
“he’s offer(s) you the chance to do exactly the work that you were created to
do – the work that brings you most fully alive. And he’s offering to help you.”
That also makes sense because yokes are
made for two. When Jesus says, “take my
yoke upon you”, he is inviting you to share his yoke. He is in the other half of it, connecting
with you in such a way that the two of you are working together.
That is what makes the yoke easy. That is what makes the burden light. When you are sharing the yoke, you cannot
help but find your right tempo. When you
are sharing the yoke, you never face your life stressors alone.
That is the message that I hope we can take
into Lent this year: First, sharing the
yoke is better than going it alone. And
second, slowing down enough to put the yoke on will be life changing because
doing so allows us to reconnect to Jesus and to our unhurried God.
If you are intrigued by what I have
said so far, then my challenge to you for the next six weeks of Lent is to commit
to one change that will allow you to live less hectically and find your right
tempo. You may discover something we do
in worship to be helpful – or one of these suggestions may work:
1.
Say the Serenity Prayer each day and when you are done,
write down one thing you worry about or fear – and throw in the woodstove or
trash:
2.
God, grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time,
enjoying one moment at a time;
accepting hardship as a pathway to peace;
taking, as Jesus did,
this sinful world as it is,
not as I would have it;
trusting that You will make all things right
if I surrender to Your will;
so that I may be reasonable happy in this life
and supremely happy with You forever in the next.
to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time,
enjoying one moment at a time;
accepting hardship as a pathway to peace;
taking, as Jesus did,
this sinful world as it is,
not as I would have it;
trusting that You will make all things right
if I surrender to Your will;
so that I may be reasonable happy in this life
and supremely happy with You forever in the next.
2.
Try out this technique described by one blogger I read who heard a monk
interviewed on the radio:
Interviewer: Are
you telling me that you never get angry?
Monk: No I experience anger but I choose not to act on it.
Interviewer (Incredulous): So if you are on the freeway and someone cuts in front of you, you won’t hoot or yell at them?
Monk: I might think of doing those things but I will ask myself this question before acting, “What will this change?” Good question to ask.
Monk: No I experience anger but I choose not to act on it.
Interviewer (Incredulous): So if you are on the freeway and someone cuts in front of you, you won’t hoot or yell at them?
Monk: I might think of doing those things but I will ask myself this question before acting, “What will this change?” Good question to ask.
3. Designate a specific place to pray – and intentionally
use it once a day – if only for a few minutes – the Prayer Chair thing.
4. Turn off your cell phone and computer for a
day – or just an evening - each week.
5. Participate in one contemplative practice on
a regular basis, such as Yoga, Qigong, meditative walking, or journaling.
6. Make a Lenten calendar – with one “unhurried”
activity for each day – like shutting your eyes for 5 minutes or imagining a
restful nature scene.
These suggestions may not sound like
much, but if you commit to one small discipline this Lenten season that will
slow you down, release you from worry and fear, or help you to be more
self-reflective, I am so sure that you will find your right tempo in this fast
paced world we live in. I am equally
sure that doing so will open you up to God and to one another – and to the
promise of Easter to come.
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