Following the World Methodist Conference in Gothenburg,
Sweden, Robin and I have been traveling around Scandinavia—a part of the world
we have never been before. We have been taking trains and boats as we have traveled.
One train trip—from north of the Arctic Circle to the city of Trondheim—was 10
hours long. The boat trip was 30 hours!
The gears in my busy life suddenly turned slowly. You can’t rush a train or speed up a boat! Instead, I felt myself—mind, body, and soul—learn new rhythms as I felt myself rocked by our conveyances
This is such a contrast to how many of us live. The lazy, hazy days of summer are giving way to Fall’s busy schedule. Many of our young people are back in school (which I consider so cruel—call me old school, but school shouldn’t start until after Labor Day). Pastors are looking at Advent themes already, The pause button has been all too brief as we rush back into calendars that are already booked solid.
I once read an insight by Angeles Arrien: nature’s rhythm is medium to slow. The seeds we planted months ago are just now being sown. It takes nine months for a fetus to come to term, and many years before that human is truly ready to be launched into the world. Few creatures, Arrien notes, move rapidly unless they are in danger.
We are a people who live hyper-speed lives. We can’t help but press on the gas when the light turns yellow (or honk if someone takes too long to move forward when the light turns green). We get impatient when fast food is slow or our internet takes too long to download. Give us instant anything and don’t take more than a second than is necessary. We run from appointment to appointment, arriving out of breath because we scarcely take time to breathe.
Arriens’ words haunt me: Few creatures move rapidly unless they are in danger. What are you afraid of that keeps you so busy? What is it we are running from?
What would happen if we slowed down our pace: had fewer church meetings, didn’t sign our kids up for every activity, didn’t schedule every minute of our day. What might happen if we learned how to linger more and race around less? What differences might it make in the conversations we have with one another? How might our relationships deepen? How might our souls be fed in surprising ways?
Jesus says to us: “Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” (Matthew 11: 28-30) My prayer for you is that you stop running and be still with God and others. Let God’s grace wash over you. Good things take time. Give yourself the expanse of fertile space that gives birth to creativity and new ideas and ways of seeing the world. Live freely and lightly once again.
Stop keeping your body in flight mode and sink into an
awareness that you are held by God who loves you, blesses you, and keeps you,
whose face shines upon you, whose grace is offered to you, who will give you
peace.