The Rest of the Story
Genesis 1:31-2:3
God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the sixth day. Thus the heavens and the earth were completed in all their vast array.
By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. Then God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done.
If the narrative of creation were a song, I can imagine the last note of the repeatedly echoing refrain “It was good” trailing off, the Conductor slowly lowering his baton and basking in the silence. He who never tires rested. He rested to enjoy the good work he had accomplished, and he rested to show those of us who do, in fact, grow weary a better way of being. For so many, myself included, who live in a world where productivity is prized above all else, our idea of rest is a “power nap,” and the concept of “sabbath” is like an unopened gift.
The word “sabbatical” is rooted in the biblical concept of sabbath, that holy seventh day set apart for rest in the beginning. The seventh day, by extension, the seventh year, and even the seventh, seventh year, known as the Year of Jubilee, all point to the importance of rhythms of rest. Weekly rhythms, yes, but also seasonal rhythms. A sabbatical is seasonal rest. It’s a time to break from the requirements of weekly work in order to reflect on the larger body of work that has already been accomplished and to prepare for the body of work that still lies ahead.
Beginning May 1st, I’m going to be taking a three-month sabbatical. This began as a conversation I had with Michael, our Lead Pastor, back in June, then gaining approval from the rest of the pastoral team along with affirmation from Summit’s Governing Board. I could not be more grateful for this gift of time and for the staff and congregation who have been willing to support me in taking it. As I've spent time reflecting over the last year about the themes that should define this time away, there are three ideas I keep coming back to: Rest, of course. But also Reawakening and Retracing Steps.
Rest. This coming September will mark 21 years of being in ministry at Summit. For those of you who know the story of Summit, you know that those 21 years have been filled with some of the most exhilarating highs and some of the most devastating lows. If I’m being fully transparent, I am feeling the fatigue of those years. At the same time, I feel deeply grateful that God has continued to give me the privilege of doing the work I get to do. I’m not sure exactly what you get when you mix fatigue and gratitude together into one feeling but I will say that I have a palpable sense of peace as I am getting ready to enter this time.
Reawakening. There’s a phrase in ministry: “Sunday’s always coming.” With repetition comes familiarity. I think this reality, along with pushing through some of the more difficult chapters of Summit’s story, has made my heart a little bit numb. The skill sets we inadvertently teach ourselves in order to stand strong in difficult times can end up truncating our ability to feel things deeply. In learning to feel pain less deeply, we also learn to feel joy less deeply. If you are looking for ways to pray for me during the next three months, the singular thing I’d ask you to pray for is that God will breathe new life into the parts of me that need to be reawakened.
Retracing Steps. As I thought about the settings that might be fertile ground for reawakening, I began to get excited about the idea of returning to some of the physical places associated with spiritually significant times of my life. I’m planning on spending some time in Nashville where I was living during my final years of college. This was a time and place where I both deconstructed and reconstructed my faith, and I look back on it with great fondness. My family will also travel with me to Seattle and the Pacific Northwest, where I was living when God confirmed in me the desire to come back to Orlando to be a part of starting Summit. I’ll probably also find something fun to do with my old friend John Parker.
In all this, I am eagerly anticipating what God has in store for me this summer, and I thank you again for the opportunity to rest in this way. One thing I want to communicate clearly and plainly before I go: this sabbatical is not my exit plan. I love our church. If anything, I’m taking this time because I hope to have longevity in ministry, God willing, here in this place that I’ve had the honor of serving over the last two decades. I want to be the very best version of myself for whatever good work God has prepared for me to do in the next chapter of Summit’s story. I’d greatly appreciate your prayers toward that end.
I’ll see you in August!