Sabbath

Blessed Rest

Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.

When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored the boat. When they got out of the boat, people at once recognized him, and rushed about that whole region and began to bring the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. And wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.


Grace, mercy, and peace from our Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ. Amen.

Maybe it’s because Jesus didn’t see himself as “the boss,” but I think he might have been the very best boss ever. Look at this lovely opening to the Gospel reading. The disciples have come back after a few weeks ago in our reading being sent two by two into villages and towns all around the region to heal the sick, cast out demons, and share about Jesus. They come back together to tell their stories and it sounds like they’ve done so much they haven’t even had time to eat!

Productivity is up! Opinion about what we’re doing is strong! These workers get it – promote them, have them do more, strike while the iron is hot! That’s what we’d say in our culture that feeds on productivity, but what does Jesus do? He listens. He tells them to rest.

I wonder what their stories sounded like? We went to this city and people listened to us and asked us great questions, we healed a sick child, and cured someone who had been possessed by a demon. They were so kind and welcoming and wanted us to stay forever, but we said we had to go on our way. So we went to the next village and they were a bunch of rotten apples. They yelled and spit at us, they cursed us and tried to kill us. So we shook off the dust on our sandals like you told us to, Jesus, and we left to the next place.

And I imagine as Jesus listens to these disciples tell their stories that he looks at them with compassion and grace. He laughs with them as they talk about a cat that just wouldn’t leave Peter alone and weeps with them as James talks about how hard the journey was for him.

I wonder what stories we tell to Jesus. I wonder if we really believe that Jesus can hear us. We think about the billions of people on Earth, and struggle to imagine how Jesus could keep all those voices and stories straight. We maybe fall into the trap of thinking that Jesus is too busy to hear us. It’s not that big of a deal. Does Jesus really need to know that I was moved by a particularly beautiful sunrise or a good conversation with a friend? Does Jesus really need to hear me tell him that it’s hard to be a parent and a spouse sometimes? Does Jesus really need to hear me?

And the answer to that is a resounding “yes!” Jesus loves us. And though we cannot fathom how a billion thoughts coming together can be sifted through by the Creator of the World, we trust that somehow it happens. Jesus hears our stories. Jesus loves us in the midst of all that we hold and all that we carry.

And, Jesus then invites the disciples to rest. Not forever. Not as a form of laziness.

Not to say they were done with the work they needed to do. But as a reminder that, yep, there is so much to be done. Spreading the Good News and the justice of God to the ends of the earth is a job that will never be completed. Healing the sick, visiting the prisoner, supporting the outcasts and ignored of society, loving the widows, being present with those in fear – yes, those will always be on the “to do” list. And being a present mom or dad, being a loving child, being a good friend – yes, those will always be things that are needed too.

But you and me, we are not machines. We are not called upon to push ourselves to the brink or beyond of exhaustion. We are not meant to be the Savior of the world. We are called and created to be beloved children of God. And as a beloved child, we sit at the footsteps of Jesus. We rest in the arms of our God. We listen for the movement of the Spirit inviting us to the next thing, which often times is to simply be.

Because there is a whole 20 verses that we skip over today. And those verses are the well-known story of the feeding of the 5000. Where people gather to hear from Jesus and he sees that they are hungry and tells the disciples to get them something to eat. And miraculously from a few loaves and fish the multitude is able to be fed.

I am certain that the disciples could not have done that if they had not followed Jesus’ invitation to rest. If they had kept pressing on, then the task ahead which already seemed impossibly overwhelming, would have simply been impossible.

I’m certain that’s true for us, too. If we do not rest. If we do not take daily and weekly times of Sabbath, we will look at the world and say, “It’s impossible. Why should I even try?”

But you and me – we have a God who tells us to rest.

You and me – we worship a God who gives us abundantly more than we need.

You and me – we serve a God who is with us in all circumstances of life.

You and me – we gather around a Table where God feeds us with good things for our life, grace, and salvation.

You and me – we are beloved. We are loved not for what we do. We are loved not for how productive we are. We are loved not only when we follow the command to rest.

No, we are loved because we are children of God. And it is only through that love that we can share these great things with the rest of the world that so desperately is looking for a better way to escape the rat race of productivity and life.

So, friends, may we tell our stories to Jesus. For he really wants to hear them. He wants to laugh with you and weep with you and be present with you and let you know that you’ve got a lot on your plate, and you do not hold that alone.

Jesus also wants to tell you to rest. And Jesus wants you to know that from that place of rest, you might be sent to feed 5000 with just a couple of loaves of bread and a few fish, or you might be sent to share Good News and grace with people who have been ignored their whole lives, or you might be sent into the world to give your kids or your spouse or your friend a hug and love in the midst of their hard times.

May we be the people of God that we were created to be. And may we know that God loves us. That God hears us. That God rests with us. And that God is always with us. Thanks be to God.

Amen.

Sabbatical Send-Off

John 17:1-11

After Jesus had spoken these words, he looked up to heaven and said, “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you, since you have given him authority over all people, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do. So now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had in your presence before the world existed.

“I have made your name known to those whom you gave me from the world. They were yours, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. Now they know that everything you have given me is from you; for the words that you gave to me I have given to them, and they have received them and know in truth that I came from you; and they have believed that you sent me. I am asking on their behalf; I am not asking on behalf of the world, but on behalf of those whom you gave me, because they are yours. All mine are yours, and yours are mine; and I have been glorified in them.

And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.”


Smarter people than me call this bit of John’s Gospel – and what we’ve been hearing in fits and starts the last couple of weeks, actually – they call it Jesus’ “Farewell Discourse.” There are chapters of it in the Gospel of John … these parting and final words of his before he heads off to his crucifixion. And it’s a prayer: intimate words, intended for God, the Father, but overheard, presumably, by someone close by with a notepad, apparently – possibly someone seated with him at the table of the Last Supper in that Upper Room, sometime before the Cross and Calvary and all of the ugliness he knew was waiting for him there.

I’m not expecting much ugliness in the next couple of months, but it seems like a thing that I get to reflect on Jesus’ “Farewell Discourse” as I prepare to take my Sabbatical leave for the summer. So…

1. First of all, perspective. I’m not Jesus so, while I know there’s some level of anxiety about my being gone for the summer, the weight of what Jesus is up to puts all of that into a different light and a healthier perspective, for all of us, I hope.

My time away will be lengthy, for sure. It’s more than three days, but it’s not quite 2,000 years, either. But still, lots of things can happen in your lives and in my life over the course of these summer months. It might be difficult to miss some of that – for me as much as for you, remember – but, kind of like Jesus, I have every intention of returning. I promise. I’ll be back.

2. Secondly, the point of it all for me. What I get to do is step away from being on call and on task and just plain “on,” in every way that that happens for a pastor – especially for a pastor in a busy, active, healthy, growing congregation like ours. I could try to describe what that looks like and feels like and really is like, here, but I won’t for a couple of reasons. A lot of you already understand that, for which I am grateful. Some of you might not believe it, if I tried to explain it. And others might think I was whining or complaining about my job – which is so very much not the case.

I love my work. And what’s more, I love my work in this place in ways I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t and couldn’t love my work anywhere else, at this point in my life.

But, as one of my friends who received the same grant once said, he felt like he had been running the same lap around the track with his ministry, after a time. He also said he felt like he was running out of magic tricks. If you all haven’t noticed that, or felt that, or wondered about that sort of thing around here, I’m glad and grateful for that, too. But I know what my friend means.

I’m looking forward, not so much to a break from the ministry I love and am still called to, but I’m looking forward to ways this time away means to refill the well of my creativity, enthusiasm and joy for what’s to come.

3. The point of it all for my family. The Havels have been on a physical, emotional, spiritual marathon the last couple of years. Christa’s cancer was icing on the same crappy COVID cake we all wrestled with. And I know so many of you have wrestled and struggled and suffered in your own ways, too, and I’ve been blessed to wrestle with you through some of that.

And I know all of this is relative. I’m not comparing or competing for biggest mole-hill or mountain, here. But one thing I’ve tried to learn these last couple of years is to take the same advice I have and would give to any of you – some of which is to say “yes” to the good and gracious stuff more often and more readily, because those opportunities can be fleeting … few and far between … and because we may not be able to make choices about them next week, or next year, or the next time they present themselves.

4. The point of it all for you – for us – and for our ministry together. Among other things we’ll be learning together … separately … these next few months about the hard, holy stuff of race, anti-racism and social justice. I’m so grateful that so many of you have signed up for the book studies that Francia Kissel and Pastor Cogan will lead. There are only three spots left for the Interrupting Racism workshops the renewal grant has made available, which is potentially life-changing for those who will participate. Pastor Cogan is planning a field trip to the Freedom Center in Cincinnati, with the youth this summer. And we have some amazing preachers lined up to inspire our worship throughout all of this time. You won’t want to miss hearing from them – and I’ll be praying that you don’t.

And, on a more general note, I hope you’ll look and pray and plan for ways to step up and to step into our life together in some new ways while I’m away. (Please pray about adding one new thing to your Time and Talent offerings for the year ahead, if you haven’t already.) Look for ways to show Pastor Cogan the ropes around here. And look for opportunities to receive, welcome and let him be our Pastor. He’s “the whole loaf of bread,” as Janis Janelsins used to say about me and we are lucky to have him among us. I’m not Jesus and he isn’t the Holy Spirit, but I’m not leaving you orphaned. You’re in good, capable, careful, faithful, pastoral hands. I believe it’s no coincidence that Pastor Cogan’s arrival coincides with my departure the way that it has and does and will.

5. And lastly, Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. There are congregations who resist and refuse the practice of Sabbatical for their pastors. It’s an expression of grace that’s too much for too many. It’s a gift that’s too generous for some to give – even when Eli Lilly is paying the bill. But it’s something we’ve made part of our life together because Sabbath is God’s command for God’s children … because we’ve experienced the blessing it brings to bear on our life together … and because it is an exercise in faith and grace and generosity and gratitude.

And, even though I’m proud to tell others about a congregation like ours that lets this happen, I receive your support and encouragement in all of it humbly … with deep gratitude … and I don’t take one bit of it for granted.

So my prayer for you – for me – for us – as I prepare to take my leave, is very much like Jesus’ prayer for his disciples – and his prayer for all of us, too. And it’s not just about the next few months, really, but about our life together well beyond this summer’s Sabbath time.

Mostly, Jesus prayed that his disciples – that we – would be one; that we would be united under a banner of grace and mercy; that we would have all the encouragement and power – all the faith and hope we need – to live together and do life together and carry out this ministry together, as God has called us to do, for the long haul.

It's more joy and responsibility than we deserve a lot of the time, but it is our call and our blessing. And it is God’s hope for us, as we live and work and seek to be a blessing of grace and good news for each other and for the sake of the world, in Jesus’ name.

Amen