Shifting Perspectives in a Parable: On Being the Injured Jew

I can't tell you how many messages I've heard about the Good Samaritan.

I can't tell you how many talks I've given about the Good Samaritan (a businessman who had compassion, capacity, competence, and courage).

It's a great parable with numerous applications to almost any time and place.  

I'm not sure about you, but when I seek to understand a Scripture, I often place myself in the text.  With the Good Samaritan, I've most often pictured myself as the Good Samaritan, which makes sense as that is how Jesus challenges us to act.  Sometimes, I've pictured myself as the Priest or Levite, recognizing my issues and challenges with "getting involved."  

Never have I pictured myself as the person who was beaten.  I find that interesting and wonder whether that is the case with others.

A friend and DML board member recommended that I read "Finding Spiritual Whitespace: Awakening Your Soul to Rest" by Bonnie Gray, who explores this perspective.

In this book, the author writes that she has always known that she is the wounded stranger, "a casualty stripped bare on the side of life's highway...That stranger is me, too wounded to step closer to joy."  She sees herself as a time-waster to the Levite, who is too busy and needs to get to his temple duties.  She sees herself as an unacceptable risk to the priest who doesn't touch anything lifeless.  She then says that she is both priest and Levite because she also passes by the wounded "me," trying too hard to be useful, and neglects herself.

It's easy to stop for others.  But will we stop long enough for ourselves?

Some cultures believe that doing self-care is a sign of weakness, and they engage in "boundary shaming" for those who attempt to protect themselves.  Other cultures may have taken self-care too far, allowing people to prioritize their comfort to such a degree that they are never willing to love their neighbor sacrificially.  I'm not speaking of either of these extremes, but I do believe there is a call for balance.

It is out of this balance that creativity, ingenuity, and thoughtful engagement can emerge.  It is out of quietness that we can hear the voice of God.  It is often when we take a break from something we have been working on that we have an "aha" moment for how to solve it.  

Jesus not only wants but needs me to stop on the side of the road of my busy life and take care of my wounded self.  He needs me to acknowledge the wounds in my soul and address them.  We take time to offer kindness and compassion to others, but we shouldn't neglect ourselves in the process.  We should not become a stranger to ourselves by being so outward-focused.

1 Thessalonians 4:11-12 says that we are to "make it our ambition to lead a quiet life."  For most of us, those words make no sense.  A quiet life as our goal, our ambition? Our world, instead, tells us that we are supposed to be faster, louder, busier, and more engaged.  

Alternatively, God calls us to engage the world with thoughtful creativity, seeing life as an adventure, as ambassadors of God.  Our goal is not just to avoid stress, but to cultivate the opposite.  We aspire for spiritual rest which brings joy and healing.

May God grant you spiritual rest this week as you make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, minding your own business, and working with your hands.

Remembering Walter Brueggemann: Sabbath as Resistance, Saying NO to the CULTURE OF NOW

Last week, Walter Brueggemann, a theologian who has written 50+ books, passed away at the age of 92.  A group of DML leaders just finished reading his book, Sabbath as Resistance, Saying NO to the CULTURE OF NOW, the day before he died.  We were reading this book in our leadership self-care group (where we hold each other accountable for sleep, eating, exercise, tech use/abuse, and Sabbath), challenging ourselves and each other to honor the fourth commandment.  In honor of his passing and a life well-lived, I would like to share what we learned from this book.

Most Christians can recite the Ten Commandments fairly easily, and many would say that they try (imperfectly) to follow them.  But the fourth commandment, to rest, is one that many Christians almost brag about breaking.  We say that we are too busy, too needed, too compelled by others to take a Sabbath.  We don't usually directly say it, but it is implied in our excuses that we are too important, too critical in our circles of influence, to take a Sabbath.  

In this book, Brueggemann argues that the fourth commandment is a BRIDGE between the first three commands to love God and the last six commands to love our neighbors.  He states that for me to love God and love my neighbor, a Sabbath must be taken.

There are more words used for this command to rest than for any of the other nine commands.  Inside this command, everyone was to rest - people and animals.  Sabbath is the great day of equality.  Not all are equal in production or consumption, but on this day, all are equal in rest.

There was no Sabbath while the Israelites were in Egypt.  They were to work seven days a week, in an anxiety-ridden situation.  Through this command, God nullifies anxiety-ridden production and emphasizes committed neighborliness.  A system of rest counters a system of anxiety.  As someone who has struggled with anxiety, I know that I am not at my best when I am anxious.  I don't love well.  I don't listen well.  I don't focus well. I need rest to remember how to love God and love my neighbor. 

Our world behaves like Egypt during the Pharaoh's time of Israelite captivity.  Anxiety-driven connectivity without rest.  

God shows us that after creating a world that was new, young, and unproven to take care of itself, He rested.  He trusted that it was good.  He stopped.  He enjoyed.  

Can I trust my little influence in my little world to operate without me?  Do I have the courage to disconnect?

My personal Sabbath is from 6:00 p.m. on Saturday to 6:00 p.m. on Sunday.  I have found that this rhythm works best for me, and I have someone in the DML team who holds me accountable for this.  (It doesn't often work when I'm on the road, but when I'm home, I can do it.)  I love my Sabbath time.  But I'm learning now that unchecked rest is not good enough.  It's not enough to nap, read, and stay off technology.  

It's not just a pause.  It's a pause for transformation. 

It's an occasion to reimagine all society "away from coercion and competition to compassionate solidarity.  Such solidarity is imaginable and capable of performance only when the drivenness of acquisitiveness is broken."

"The economy is not just a rat race in which people remain exhausted from coercive goals; it is, rather, a covenantal enterprise for the sake of the whole community."

I still have a lot to learn about taking a Sabbath.

It's interesting to note that there is no command to work.  Working is what we have been created to do.  There's no command to breathe or to sleep.  It's also what we naturally do.  But there is a command to rest.  As we preach a theology of work, we also need to remember to teach a theology of Sabbath and rest, to help people maintain balance.

Thank you for your work, Dr. Brueggemann!  Rest in peace!