Rest - Part 7 - The Paradox of Rest

So my last post appears to have created a contradiction.

On one hand I've discovered that rest takes work (see this post for details)

But now I've also discovered that rest is a gift (see this post for details)

I've said that rest isn't something we can achieve, but I've also said you have to work at it, and part of our difficulty is often that we expect rest to be an entirely passive thing that will happen automatically if we just stop doing.

Perhaps it's not so much a contradiction, as it is a paradox.

Remember, a paradox is something that appears to contradict itself, but captures the reality that two different propositions can be true at the same time.

So one way of thinking about this paradox is that while rest is a gift, it is a gift we have to work at accepting.

We assume that accepting gifts is passive; requiring no effort from us at all. But this might not quite be true. Most gifts require some kind of action. You have to show up at the party. You have to accept it from the giver. May you have to unwrap it. And certainly accepting a gift often means using the gift in some capacity.

This might be simple if the gift is socks, or the always classy Christmas tie (you know the ones with little LED lights that light up, or maybe even play Joy to the World)

But what if the gift is love, or authenticity, or vulnerability, or forgiveness, or even...

....rest.

Maybe in the case of gifts like rest our acceptance is not the passive, "allowing things just to happen" kind of posture, but requires a type of work on our part.

And maybe that work involves overcoming the kinds of conditions of the heart I talked about in the last post: self-sufficiency and the cult of personal achievement. Perhaps the hard work of allowing ourselves to depend on God rather than our personal efforts is a bit of pre-condition to being able to fully experience the gift.

Maybe in our daily lives the work of rest involves saying "no" to a whole bunch of things so that we have space in our schedules, our minds, and our hearts to say "yes" to the gift of rest. Saying "no" is often hard work - it exposes us to a host of anxieties. We worry about letting others down. We worry about how our "no" will appear to others. We even struggle with how saying "no" doesn't fit with the image we have of ourselves as a certain kind of person.

If only it were easier to know what we should say "no" to and what we should say "yes" to.

But we don't. We simply can't see the future, so most of us err on the side of saying "yes" to too many things, and end up struggling to be able to receive rest.

So rest is a paradox.

We work hard to accept it as a gift.

And maybe some of us have more work to do in our hearts and minds and routines before we really can receive it as a gift.

Rest - Part 6 - Rest is a Gift

"You have made us for Yourself O Lord, and our hearts are restless until we rest in You"
-Augustine

Rest is a gift.

Which of course seems like a good thing...

...after all, who doesn't like gifts?


If something's a gift, than all I have to do is accept it. What could be hard about that?

But some gifts are difficult to accept, and in this case it probably has to do with our illusions of self sufficiency, and our achievement oriented culture.

Accepting a gift can mean that others can provide for me things that I can not or have not provided for myself. It opens me to needing other people. It exposes my finiteness and my personal limits...my dependency on others.

Which, as I have acknowledged here before, my ego does not particularly like.

Now considering rest as a gift to be accepted from God brings me into these same conflicts with wanting to preserve the illusion of self-sufficiency.

I am forced to acknowledge that I am not the source of all things in my life.

The source of true rest is God....and...it is a rest I cannot provide for myself, no matter how clever or knowledgeable I become about the topic. As Augustine points out in the quote that begins this post, all other rest will be insufficient until I find my true rest in God.

In this quest to find rest, I'm becoming increasingly aware that I cannot strive too hard to find it, or else it becomes...another exhausting activity.

It might seem stupid, but I think lots of us actually would prefer the exhausting pursuit of rest to accepting it as a gift, not just because of our claims to self-sufficiency, but also because we are so habitually formed to achieve everything for ourselves.

North American culture is a cult of personal achievement.

We've come to define ourselves in terms of our "profiles" (facebook, linked in, twitter, even our resumes). And if you've escaped the incredibly dangerous thinking about "personal branding", consider yourself lucky, and sane. But it's not just what you've accomplished that defines us in this culture, it's also who you should become. Our media is saturated with content that suggests all sorts of ways you can improve yourself. If you just follow the right steps, the right program, if you just had the right information....you can fix anything you don't like about yourself...at least, that's what they tell us.

So learning to accept rest stands squarely in contradiction to the prevailing ethos of our culture, where everything gets sucked into the vortex of our personal achievements, even to the point of attempting to re-create who we are.

But the gift of rest says: "you are not able to do all things for yourself, you must come in dependence on a higher power to receive this restoration from all of your other frantic efforts".

Acceptance, not achievement.

Dependency, not self-sufficiency.

Gift, not possession.

These are ideas we intellectually ascent to, but because of our embeddedness in our culture they are much more difficult to embrace and live out.

But accepting the gift of rest is therefore something with the potential to transform us beyond just the experience of being restored, but also in re-aligning us into our proper relationship to God and creation.

When we receive the gift, we are forced to move back into role of dependency on God, and out of the slavery of self-sufficiency and achievement.

And perhaps this is the wisdom of Augustine's opening quote - that we cannot find rest until we find rest in God, because any rest outside of God allows us to stay in our self-sufficiency, and the restlessness it creates.

Rest - Part 5 - To Rest is Divine

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.  (Gen 2:1-4)

Did God need a break?

Why does God rest?

Does God get tired?

Why does the Hebrew story of creation make such mention of a God who not only rests, but makes resting "holy"? While all the other "days" of creation are described as "good" or "very good", the day of rest is sacred.

The Hebrew word the Torah uses to describe the seventh day is "Kadosh", which was generally meant to indicate being "set apart", or referring to the distinction between the divine and the created. Things that are Kadosh have the character of the divine, they reflect those higher things that transcend this world and its ways.

I think the point in this passage is that rest is a reflection of God's character. God doesn't rest because God needs it. God rests because God is God...it's just something that God does. God's resting isn't about fatigue or limits or boundedness, it's about God's own essence expressing itself.

Which may not seem very earth shattering at first, but if we consider ourselves to be people who imitate God, who try to live lives that reflect God to the rest of the world....

It seems we have some resting to do.

And not because resting is utilitarian, and maybe not even because we need it.

Essentially we should rest because resting is divine. To rest is Godly. To rest is to imitate God. Or for those of us who describe ourselves as Jesus followers; part of following Jesus is resting.

Now maybe that doesn't seem very new to you. But it is to me.

I always thought following Jesus was about doing.

Maybe it's not just doing the kinds of things that Jesus does, but being the kind of person Jesus was...a person who rests.

Think about all of the times Jesus pulls away from the crowds: all the missed opportunities to heal and teach. Maybe if he'd spent a little more time giving sermons, our theology could be a little clearer today. But he doesn't. I always just assumed he was being strategic, or at least wise...you know, resting so that he could get back out there and really do his thing. I never thought that resting for Jesus might just be a part of who he is. He isn't frantic, or restless, or perpetually busy, or driven - even though that would seem to be the best way to maximize the outcome of cramming his life ministry into three short years.

So today I encourage you to imitate God in both ways:  work hard, create, be productive just like God was for 6 days. But then also imitate God in resting.

Not because you want to,

not because you need to,

but because to rest,

is divine.

Learning

Back from vacation and soon back to writing....

In the meantime you can check out my second message at Hillside Church here:

http://www.hillsidelondon.com/sermons/learning/

Rest - Part 4 - Restfulness as a posture of the mind and heart

I think that I have re-discovered, that in part, restfulness, is a posture of our minds and heart.

What stresses us, what feels demanding, is heavily influenced by our interpretations, our ways of thinking about the world, and the things we love and desire.

I've noted before that my exhaustion is in part caused by an overwhelming sense of responsibility. I even constructed a list that seems like good solid objective evidence that I have big responsibilities.

But as I meditated this morning, the question that came into my mind is, "what are you actually responsible for?"

In my practice, am I responsible for outcomes? I think I know better than to try "fixing" people, but do I still expect myself to produce changes in people through my skills and determination? Do I have to accept all the pressure from others to accomplish certain things in my professional work?

In my role as a father, am I responsible for ensuring my kids turn out a certain way?

What about life in general; is it my responsibility for how things turn out?

How much of the responsibility I feel is unwarranted, unhealthy, unachievable, and unnecessary?

Everyday we're surrounded by messages of expectation about creating our own little personal empires, about setting goals and making them happen.

What is my true responsibility to others... to my self... to God?

How much of my stress, my restlessness, my chronic angst is a product of responsibility run amok?

How much of my sense of responsibility is in actuality an idol, a place where I worship my own illusions of independence, competence, and desire to transcend human limitations?

Last night I had a dream that I could fly. I was flying over my house, my workplace...I was completely euphoric. It didn't take me very long after waking up to understand what it meant. I'm constantly trying to live in excess of my human limits...like living a life that involves flying. And I revel in my illusions that I'm more than human.

Perhaps I'm not the only who does this? Perhaps others join me in going too fast, expecting to much, and never being okay living inside the boundaries of human limits?

Maybe this is why the curse Adam suffers for trying to be like God in the creation story, is that he'll have to toil and labor the rest of his life. Is the story telling us that our efforts to be more than human end up dehumanizing us in the form of bondage to work?

Is that quality of restfulness that I'm seeking, at least in part to be found in submitting to being human, and not trying to take God's place in the world?

If restlessness in part is a product of idolatry, how much more restfulness is to be found in a proper relationship between myself and the Creator? A relationship in which my sense of responsibility is always viewed through the lens of what God asks of me, rather than keeping up with my own grandiose sense of what I should be able to do?

What if I stopped expecting myself to be super-human...and became satisfied with just being human...just being who God created me to be, and wants me to be in this particular moment?

If my ego wasn't driving me so hard, could I be restful, even in the midst of circumstances which seem demanding and stressful, because I could recognize what is truly expected of me?

If the posture of our minds and hearts were right, could we find restfulness without changing very much of the other external elements of our lives?

Rest - Part 3 - Confusing Restlessness with Ambition

I've always associated being restless as just a synonym for agitation, boredom, or under-stimulated.

When I started thinking deeply about rest, I realized that rest-less-ness is more than agitation. It's that state of not being rested, or perhaps even, unable to rest. 

And I always considered myself ambitious - which I thought was a good quality. But I'm starting to wonder if I've sometimes confused ambition with restlessness. I've put a positive spin on the difficulty of finding rest by labeling it in my own head as ambition; a quality our culture admires and praises. I'm even pretty good at appearing to make it not about myself, by making my "ambition" a spiritual quest to do good in the world. If there's a real danger to our thinking about living God's mission on earth, I think it's that we can quickly take the theology and make it a justification for trying to be spiritual superheros.

But I'm not just ambitious, I'm restless.

Chronically restless.

My conscious mind may not always recognize it, but clearly when I listen to the clanging of my semi-conscious thoughts, the truth is, I'm restless and revved up. When I sit and try to be still, I'm inundated with all the things I should be doing instead.

These things I should be doing?...usually they fall under the heading of "responsibilities".

I have lots of things I'm responsible for. My chosen profession puts me in place of high responsibility for the care of lots of people. I have a business to manage. I have kids. I have a mortgage. I have retirement to save for. I'm trying to change my lifestyle and prevent health issues down the road. I have friends and neighbors I take care of. I have a church that wants to see me use my gifts to bless them.  I have a deep conviction that the way most of middle class folks live is unsustainable and problematic for the 2/3 rds world and future generations...and a profound sense that I should be doing something significant about that.

It became crystal clear to me after being away from my normal life for two weeks this winter that things in my world have become too complicated and involve too much responsibility. Or at least, it feels that way.

And yet at the same time I have this compulsion to take on more. Even to take on new responsibilities. I say no to lots of requests...I'm not that guy who feels guilty for turning people down (usually). But I am the type of person bursting with creative energy, always wanting to take on new projects, start new things, and, if I haven't admitted to it already on this blog, save the world.

So it seems that a part of my difficulty resting is having too much responsibility. There are too many demands on my time, energy, resources...and admitting that I need a break from some of it is hard to do.

In the last few months, I've taken some steps to simplify, to shed unnecessary projects, to slow down.

But the tension I struggle with is an inward drive against my efforts to simplify and slow down.

Every time I try to stop doing and allow myself to just "be", my mind kicks in with a new set of efforts and ideas that I want to pursue.

Even just reflecting on rest has me thinking about how to elaborate these ideas into writing a book. Which ends up making my pursuit of rest into a project filled with activity.

So I think I've realized that part of my journey is making some structural changes to my life, including adding some practices that promote rest. Some of it might require me to pull back even more and allow myself to just be a person, rather than all of the other roles I perform.

But I'm also becoming aware that resting will require some internal changes. Changes in my own inner world, and this apparent compulsion I have to activity. Restlessness, not Ambition.

Creation Care

I'll be getting back to writing about rest shortly....I've been busy prepping talks for Hillside Church, but plan to get back to writing soon.

You can hear my first talk on Creation Care, here:

http://www.hillsidelondon.com/sermons/creation-care/

Peace.

David.