Do You REALLY Need It Yesterday?

I was thinking about the phenomena which most of us experience as we grow older concerning the relative speed of time.  As we age time seems to go faster.  Given the rapid speed of change in our culture these days, the perception of time’s speed is accentuated.  I marvel at the changes that today’s nonagenarians have witnessed and wonder how they maintain a grip on life.  Changes in technology, communications, and media in the past decade alone are staggering.  How does one keep up? 

Which begs the question:  Does one have to?  Keep up, I mean.  Do we have to try to keep going at the speed of our culture or is there an alternative?  I remember a trip I made to Brazil several years ago and my tour guide’s description of the relative sense of time experienced in the different regions of the country.  He mentioned Carioca time, a more relaxed sense of schedules lived out by the citizens of Rio as compared to their more driven counterparts further south. 

Even in my home state of North Carolina there is a different approach to time between those who live in cities and those in the country.  In Charlotte you might hear, “Time is money,” while in some remote corner of the mountains “There’s always time for fishing,” may be a more common sentiment.

I’d like to propose that one need not feel pressed by those around us to keep up with their pace.  In Judeo-Christian circles we have a tradition of Sabbath which engages us not only to slow down but to stop what we’re doing altogether for a day, and if, for a day, why not for moments in every other day?  Who needs to go at the speed of light?  Why not choose the speed of life, which I submit is slow enough to smell the roses along the way?

It takes great concentration and discipline to not be caught up in the current of culture.  And to go in the opposite direction may require mutual support from a community that is willing to be counter-cultural along with us.  I think there is more life to be gained from slowing down, lingering over coffee, taking a leisurely stroll through the neighborhood, than from the frantic rush in which we often get caught up. 

Do we really need it yesterday?  

Unnecessary

Snow and ice covers the road in front of the parsonage and no one, except a few, is braving the elements today. Authorities on TV and the radio encourage everyone to stay put, “Only necessary personnel should venture out.”

Well, I guess I am not necessary. I usually think otherwise. I think and act as if the world might not go on unless I am turning it on its axis. As pastor-in-charge I am responsible for running the church, keeping the gears greased, making sure spiritual life is happening, assuring the sick and troubled that God is with them. Who will make sure the church carries on if not me?

A day or two of inclement weather is all it takes to disabuse me of my indispensability. Nobody is distressed if the church office stays closed for a couple of days. The bulletin will eventually get put together. The phone calls and correspondence that seemed so necessary can wait a little longer. Appointments can be postponed. Only necessary personnel should venture out.

The weather comes as a wake-up call to my need for Sabbath. I am as guilty as everyone else in our culture of belittling the necessity of a day of doing nothing. I rationalize, “but I have to work on Sunday.” But my Fridays, the day when I am “off,” turns out to be a day of work, too. Only instead of wearing my preacher clothes, I’m wearing clean-the-house, work-in-the-yard, go-to-the-store clothes. Obviously not Sabbath-keeping.

Sabbath is intended to remind us that we are not necessary. A weekly dose of humility. Yes, the world will go on without us. God does not NEED us to keep creation spinning. We may take a rest, and reflect. Do nothing.

I know doing nothing is a heresy in American culture. But it could be the very antidote we Christians need to believing that we are at the center of the world. One day a week in which we observe the sufficiency of God might do us wonders. No need to gather manna. There is enough in our pantry for one more day. No need to do any work. It will still be there tomorrow. Turn off the computer. Don’t answer the phone. Go outside and play and delight in the beauty of creation. If you must do something, let it be something completely unnecessary – something that won’t accomplish anything more than evoking the joy and wonder of living.

Sit and talk with your spouse, your children, your friends. Take a walk in the park, through your town. Sit, (don’t dig or pull weeds) in your garden. Smell the roses. Listen to music. Love the one you’re with. Love the life you have been given. And give thanks that you are not necessary to the machinations of the world. What a relief it is.