In August, one thing I realized, was being Christian was not helping me to have peace. Or, maybe what I should say is that hanging around most Christians has never helped me find peace.
Whenever I hang out with a new group of Christians I brace to be told that there is something I need to be doing that I am not. For instance, in my first year of seminary I was working full time (and often picking up an overtime shift) and taking eight hours of classes. At the time I wasn’t volunteering at a church. Everyone knew my work schedule at school, yet I was constantly told the same thing. “You really should be more involved in church.”
At the time I thought they were right—I should be doing more. In fact, I so closely linked busyness and Christianity, that I felt best about myself everyday when I drove home from work at 6:30 AM. As soon as I got on the freeway I would start to doze off. “Bump, bump, bump” would wake me up as I drifted out of my lane. Then there were all those red lights I ran and blown stop signs. This was not because I was in a hurry (although I did desperately want to get home so I could get four hours of sleep before class) but because I’d either be dozing off or by the time I realized there was a stop sign already have gone through it.
That I couldn’t make it home without dozing off was proof that I was busy enough. I would feel good knowing that not only was I busy but I was even willing to risk my life for God.
In August, I realized this whole thing was insane. I was glorifying putting the lives of others and myself in jeopardy to meet the expectations of dozens of future pastors.
I wrote down Deuteronomy 5:12-15 to try to change my ways:
Observe the Sabbath day and keep it holy, as the Lord your God commanded you. Six days you shall labor and do all your work. But the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work—you or your son or your daughter, or your male or female slave, or your ox or your donkey, or any of your livestock, or the resident alien in your towns, so that your male and female slave may rest as well as you. Remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the Lord your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and outstretched arm; therefore the Lord your God commanded you to keep the Sabbath day.
I chose this version of the Ten Commandments (the Leviticus version has a different rational for keeping the Sabbath) because it links Sabbath with remembering that God does not want his people to be slaves.
Like everything I’ve been writing about in this series, this is more of a goal than reality. Fortunately, after my first year of seminary I started working at a gym less than a mile from my house—which means I haven’t doze and drove for a long time now. I’d be blatantly lying if I told you I am a Sabbatarian—but at least I am aware that some changes would be helpful.
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