DAILY BYTE
As we conclude this week’s devotions, I’d like to share a recent personal experience where slowing down and becoming more attuned to God’s presence brought an experience of deep gratitude and joy.
A couple of weeks ago I was sitting in the Botanical Gardens in the midst of a massive wind storm that swept through Durban. It was exhilarating. This incredibly powerful wind suddenly gusting with full voice, then fading momentarily to a mere murmur, before bellowing forth unashamedly once more. As I sat there listening attentively to all this, conscious of God’s majestic presence, I suddenly realized that the very trees around and above me were singing.
I could hear unmistakable percussive sounds marking out a rhythmic beat. There were lilting harmonies, great guttural expulsions of noise, sudden startling crashes (which were branches falling around me), and gentle whisperings. As the tree above me caught the wind it would swell into a deep resonant baritone, and then wait while other trees nearby answered back. It was a great chorus of voices, more than I could count, making magnificent music together.
At times it sounded like the ebb and flow of the ocean. At times it was like the gurgling of a mountain stream. At times I could hear what sounded like thunder, or maybe the galloping of wild horses, and hidden almost imperceptibly in this great cacophony, in the rustling of the trees was the sound of birds singing.
One biblical scholar has suggested that God sang creation into being, declaring that it was very good. If that is true, then what I heard that day sounded like a little piece of creation singing back joyously, ‘Yes. It is very good indeed.’
Of course, it’s not just the trees in the Durban Botanical Gardens on a windy day that sing out in beauty and love. Everything with the breath of life within it seems peculiarly shaped to be an instrument of praise.
The biologist Lewis Thomas tells us that termites make percussive sounds that play a significant part in their social cohesion. The trumpeting of elephants is certainly not just a figure of speech. Right now, massive humpback whales are singing long and complex and beautiful songs under the ocean that can be heard for hundreds of kilometers all around. And even in the most distant reaches of the universe, the scientists tell us, stars are bursting into existence, releasing radio waves and other forms of multi-frequency energy that if we could hear, would fill our ears with every conceivable note and tone. When the scriptures speak of the morning stars singing together, maybe it’s not just beautiful poetry. Maybe it’s expressing what God actually hears.
The point of all this is that we live in a world where the praises of God are already being offered in glorious and exuberant profusion. We live in a world of prodigal praise. Indeed, the prodigal praise of all creation points us to our life’s deepest purpose, that we too have been created to praise. All around us there is a cadence of grace, enfolding us and holding us. Which means that the reorienting of our lives towards God is never any further away than a single breath, if we allow that breath to join in the worship of God that constantly rises all around us.
By slowing down, listening, looking, we come to experience things of God that we otherwise would simply miss. It’s the simple invitation of grace that lies open and accessible to us all – in every moment of every day in every place.
PRAY AS YOU GO
Lord, I was made to be an instrument of worship that would resound with prodigal praise to the glory of your name. Help me to rest more in you, and so allow your hands to hold me and play me, that my very life would add to the magnificent music of creation that echoes all around. Amen.
SCRIPTURE READING
Psalm 146:1-2
Praise the Lord, O my soul.
I will praise the Lord all my life;
I will sing praise to my God as long as I live.
Friday, 29 October 2010
Thursday, 28 October 2010
Paths & Roads
DAILY BYTE
Today, in continuing the thought begun yesterday, I’ll be leaning on the reflections of two other writers I’ve already made reference to this week.
First, a short anecdote from Tom Smith. He writes:
“At least once a year I take a group of men into the wilderness spaces of South Africa - mostly the Drakensberg. It is always a fascinating experience. When we leave Johannesburg, we leave the city by way of the highway called the N3. As we travel on it the highway makes way for country roads. Country roads make way for dirt roads. When we start our hike, these dirt roads that vehicles can use make way for roads that are only fit for off-road vehicles. These then make way for roads that can only be accessed by foot and then when we get into the deep alpine wilderness, the path disappears all together.
When we leave the city it always strikes me how the conversations and attention level of the group is affected by the medium we use to travel. In the vehicle on the highway the chatter is usually incessant. As we transition onto the smaller roads and open the windows, it is as if we emerge out of a city hibernation and start to notice again. Once we’re in the wilderness our verbosity comes to a screeching halt, for it is mostly inadequate to describe the grandeur and magnificence of what is around us.”
Secondly, I’d like to share this insightful piece by Wendell Berry, as he reflects on the difference between a path and a road.
“The difference between a path and a road is not only the obvious one. A path is little more than a habit that comes with knowledge of a place. It is a sort of ritual familiarity. As a form, it is a form of contact with a known landscape. It is not destructive. It is the perfect adaptation, through experience and familiarity, of movement to place; it obeys the natural contours; such obstacles as it meets it goes around.
A road, on the other hand, even the most primitive road, embodies a resistance against the landscape. Its reason is not simply the necessity for movement, but haste. Its wish is to avoid contact with the landscape; it seeks so far as possible to go over the country, rather than through it; its aspiration, as we see clearly in the example of our modern freeways, is to be a bridge; its tendency is to translate place into space in order to traverse it with the least effort. It is destructive, seeking to remove or destroy all obstacles in its way. The primitive road advanced by the destruction of the forest; modern roads advance by the destruction of topography….
I only want to observe that [the road] bears no relation whatever to the country it passes through. It was built, not according to the lay of the land, but according to a blueprint. Such homes and farmlands and woodlands as happened to be in its way are now buried under it…. Its form is the form of speed, dissatisfaction, and anxiety. It represents the ultimate in engineering sophistication, but the crudest possible valuation of life in this world.”
In the light of these reflections we could say that the way of Jesus is much more like a path than a road. Which means that it’s a journey that isn’t focused on speed, comfort and convenience – as if its only objective were to get us to some destination (heaven perhaps?) as quickly as possible. Rather, the journey that Jesus calls us to is long and winding and sometimes tough going. It’s a journey that recognizes the varying contours of this life, with all its ups and downs, and is resolutely committed to going wherever life’s path may take us, confident that this is where God can be found.
PRAY AS YOU GO
Thank you Lord that while the way of Jesus is not always easy, comfortable or convenient, it is always good. Thank you that I do not have to follow this path alone, but that in Jesus I have a friend, a traveling companion and a guide. Amen
SCRIPTURE READING
John 14:6
Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”
Today, in continuing the thought begun yesterday, I’ll be leaning on the reflections of two other writers I’ve already made reference to this week.
First, a short anecdote from Tom Smith. He writes:
“At least once a year I take a group of men into the wilderness spaces of South Africa - mostly the Drakensberg. It is always a fascinating experience. When we leave Johannesburg, we leave the city by way of the highway called the N3. As we travel on it the highway makes way for country roads. Country roads make way for dirt roads. When we start our hike, these dirt roads that vehicles can use make way for roads that are only fit for off-road vehicles. These then make way for roads that can only be accessed by foot and then when we get into the deep alpine wilderness, the path disappears all together.
When we leave the city it always strikes me how the conversations and attention level of the group is affected by the medium we use to travel. In the vehicle on the highway the chatter is usually incessant. As we transition onto the smaller roads and open the windows, it is as if we emerge out of a city hibernation and start to notice again. Once we’re in the wilderness our verbosity comes to a screeching halt, for it is mostly inadequate to describe the grandeur and magnificence of what is around us.”
Secondly, I’d like to share this insightful piece by Wendell Berry, as he reflects on the difference between a path and a road.
“The difference between a path and a road is not only the obvious one. A path is little more than a habit that comes with knowledge of a place. It is a sort of ritual familiarity. As a form, it is a form of contact with a known landscape. It is not destructive. It is the perfect adaptation, through experience and familiarity, of movement to place; it obeys the natural contours; such obstacles as it meets it goes around.
A road, on the other hand, even the most primitive road, embodies a resistance against the landscape. Its reason is not simply the necessity for movement, but haste. Its wish is to avoid contact with the landscape; it seeks so far as possible to go over the country, rather than through it; its aspiration, as we see clearly in the example of our modern freeways, is to be a bridge; its tendency is to translate place into space in order to traverse it with the least effort. It is destructive, seeking to remove or destroy all obstacles in its way. The primitive road advanced by the destruction of the forest; modern roads advance by the destruction of topography….
I only want to observe that [the road] bears no relation whatever to the country it passes through. It was built, not according to the lay of the land, but according to a blueprint. Such homes and farmlands and woodlands as happened to be in its way are now buried under it…. Its form is the form of speed, dissatisfaction, and anxiety. It represents the ultimate in engineering sophistication, but the crudest possible valuation of life in this world.”
In the light of these reflections we could say that the way of Jesus is much more like a path than a road. Which means that it’s a journey that isn’t focused on speed, comfort and convenience – as if its only objective were to get us to some destination (heaven perhaps?) as quickly as possible. Rather, the journey that Jesus calls us to is long and winding and sometimes tough going. It’s a journey that recognizes the varying contours of this life, with all its ups and downs, and is resolutely committed to going wherever life’s path may take us, confident that this is where God can be found.
PRAY AS YOU GO
Thank you Lord that while the way of Jesus is not always easy, comfortable or convenient, it is always good. Thank you that I do not have to follow this path alone, but that in Jesus I have a friend, a traveling companion and a guide. Amen
SCRIPTURE READING
John 14:6
Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”
Footpath Faith
DAILY BYTE
I must acknowledge that the core idea for today’s devotion arose from a reflection written by Tom Smith. In his reflection, Tom suggests that the medium with which we travel will determine to a large extent our experience and appreciation of our surroundings, and that this has tremendous implications for the way in which we undertake the journey of faith.
Let me try to illustrate the point. Imagine you’re driving along a road through the Kruger National Park like a real Park Mamparra, speeding along at 100 km/h. What are you going to see? Or more importantly, what will you fail to see - not because it isn’t there, but because the way in which you’re traveling makes it virtually impossible to notice? A magnificent elephant would be little more than a blur of colour, and even if you caught a glimpse of it, what chance would there be to experience and appreciate what an elephant is really like?
Now imagine you’re walking through the same Park along a bush path (hopefully with an authorized guide). And suddenly, up ahead in a clearing you spotted an elephant. How would your experience of the elephant be different? To what extent does the medium with which you are traveling – a footpath – influence the nature of your encounter?
Many people are eager to encounter an elephant, but only from the relative safety of a car, with an open road behind and in front of them to speed away, if things get a little too close for comfort. The medium with which they are traveling gives them a greater measure of control in the manner in which the encounter will unfold.
In a similar way, the medium we use to undertake the journey of faith will determine to a large extent the nature of our encounter with the holy. What do I mean by this? Well, many people make sporadic forays into the territory of the Spirit – perhaps by going to church on a Sunday, or attending a small group meeting, or maybe by reading these Barking Dog-Collar devotions. These sorts of activities are good, and the extent to which they enable us to slow down and take the time to become aware of God’s awesome presence all around us, make them an important part of the life of faith. But all too often ‘spiritual’ activities like these are little more than a momentary slowing down to see what there is to see of God, before putting the foot on the accelerator again and returning to the breakneck pace of life in which the beauty of God’s presence all around becomes nothing more than an indistinct blur.
In contrast to this, Jesus calls us to follow him, as he makes his own wandering way through the world. It’s really a call to a footpath kind of faith, in which the totality of our lives becomes the territory in which God can be encountered. There is something unpredictable, engaging and risky about traveling in this way. It brings a greater openness to being surprised by breathtaking beauty, or indeed terrified by the immensity of holy mysteries that we stumble upon so unexpectedly. As we follow a footpath faith we gradually become aware that everything around us is filled with the presence of God, and every moment in our often full and demanding lives is a precious opportunity for God to be known. Maybe then we’ll be less anxious to rush on to the next thing, and can become more present to God’s Presence in our midst.
PRAY AS YOU GO
Lord, forgive me for the times when I rush on by without noticing you in the midst of my life. Forgive me for thinking that I can encounter you on my own terms, and for trying to limit you to what I can manage or control. Help me to step out on a footpath kind of faith that is willing to follow Jesus wherever he might wander, and lead me along the contours of grace that traverse every part of my life. Amen.
SCRIPTURE READING
Matthew 4:21-22
Going on from there he saw two other brothers, James & John, in a boat with their father Zebedee, preparing their nets. Jesus called them, and immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.
I must acknowledge that the core idea for today’s devotion arose from a reflection written by Tom Smith. In his reflection, Tom suggests that the medium with which we travel will determine to a large extent our experience and appreciation of our surroundings, and that this has tremendous implications for the way in which we undertake the journey of faith.
Let me try to illustrate the point. Imagine you’re driving along a road through the Kruger National Park like a real Park Mamparra, speeding along at 100 km/h. What are you going to see? Or more importantly, what will you fail to see - not because it isn’t there, but because the way in which you’re traveling makes it virtually impossible to notice? A magnificent elephant would be little more than a blur of colour, and even if you caught a glimpse of it, what chance would there be to experience and appreciate what an elephant is really like?
Now imagine you’re walking through the same Park along a bush path (hopefully with an authorized guide). And suddenly, up ahead in a clearing you spotted an elephant. How would your experience of the elephant be different? To what extent does the medium with which you are traveling – a footpath – influence the nature of your encounter?
Many people are eager to encounter an elephant, but only from the relative safety of a car, with an open road behind and in front of them to speed away, if things get a little too close for comfort. The medium with which they are traveling gives them a greater measure of control in the manner in which the encounter will unfold.
In a similar way, the medium we use to undertake the journey of faith will determine to a large extent the nature of our encounter with the holy. What do I mean by this? Well, many people make sporadic forays into the territory of the Spirit – perhaps by going to church on a Sunday, or attending a small group meeting, or maybe by reading these Barking Dog-Collar devotions. These sorts of activities are good, and the extent to which they enable us to slow down and take the time to become aware of God’s awesome presence all around us, make them an important part of the life of faith. But all too often ‘spiritual’ activities like these are little more than a momentary slowing down to see what there is to see of God, before putting the foot on the accelerator again and returning to the breakneck pace of life in which the beauty of God’s presence all around becomes nothing more than an indistinct blur.
In contrast to this, Jesus calls us to follow him, as he makes his own wandering way through the world. It’s really a call to a footpath kind of faith, in which the totality of our lives becomes the territory in which God can be encountered. There is something unpredictable, engaging and risky about traveling in this way. It brings a greater openness to being surprised by breathtaking beauty, or indeed terrified by the immensity of holy mysteries that we stumble upon so unexpectedly. As we follow a footpath faith we gradually become aware that everything around us is filled with the presence of God, and every moment in our often full and demanding lives is a precious opportunity for God to be known. Maybe then we’ll be less anxious to rush on to the next thing, and can become more present to God’s Presence in our midst.
PRAY AS YOU GO
Lord, forgive me for the times when I rush on by without noticing you in the midst of my life. Forgive me for thinking that I can encounter you on my own terms, and for trying to limit you to what I can manage or control. Help me to step out on a footpath kind of faith that is willing to follow Jesus wherever he might wander, and lead me along the contours of grace that traverse every part of my life. Amen.
SCRIPTURE READING
Matthew 4:21-22
Going on from there he saw two other brothers, James & John, in a boat with their father Zebedee, preparing their nets. Jesus called them, and immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.
Wednesday, 27 October 2010
Speed Kills
DAILY BYTE
Speed is the slang word for a chemical drug that consists of amphetamine or methamphetamine. It’s a powerful stimulant that’s often used in the clubbing scene to keep people alert and awake, but its temporary pick-me-up type effect on the nervous system means that it is used in a variety of other settings too. For instance, I once spoke to a recovering speed addict who said that she was tempted to start using again during one of my slightly-longer-than-usual sermons!
As a drug, Speed is aptly named, because of the rush that it literally delivers. It does so by increasing the levels of dopamine and serotonin in the brain, accelerating the action of these key neurotransmitters. This leads to an increase in perceived energy levels, heightened awareness and feelings of euphoria.
All of which sounds pretty terrific. But when you follow the road that Speed takes you on – the initial rush, the increased tolerance, the dependence, the addiction – when you follow that road you discover that it leads, quite literally, to a dead end. It destroys life. It’s true – speed kills.
But it’s not just the chemical variety of speed that people get addicted to. We live in a world that is obsessed with getting things done faster and faster all the time. Efficiency, productivity, minimizing down-town, maximizing output – these are the standards by which we are judged in this rat-race-ish world. And without even realizing it we trade Life for something-less-than-Life.
But every now and then someone comes along who challenges the conventional wisdom of the day. Wendell Berry is one such person. He is an author and poet who is fiercely critical of the short-sighted progress of technological advancement and our society’s endless obsession with doing things faster and faster. His ideas run counter to the mainstream thinking of our contemporary culture, and he is often derided as a result. But what he says cannot be so quickly dismissed.
He’s somebody who walks the talk. For instance, although he has written over 40 books, he refuses to buy a computer. Instead, he writes his manuscripts in long-hand with a pencil, and then gets someone to type them out for him. Now before you laugh this off as hopelessly outdated and embarrassingly archaic, listen to what he says. He writes:
“I acknowledge that, as a writer, I need a lot of help. And I have received an abundance of the best of help from my wife, from other members of my family, from friends, from teachers, from editors, and sometimes from readers.... But a computer, I’m told, offers a kind of help that you can’t get from other humans; a computer will help you to write faster, easier, and more. Do I, then, want to write faster, easier, and more? No. My standards are not speed, ease, and quantity. I have already left behind too much evidence that, writing with just a pencil, I have sometimes written too fast, too easily, and too much. I would like to be a better writer, and for that I need help from other humans, not a machine.”
My purpose here is not to argue for or against the merits of using a computer. But rather for us to reflect on what is truly important. Wendell Berry suggests that speed, ease and quantity are not the best yardsticks by which to measure our work and the productive contribution we make to the world. That in fact, these values can choke the life out of us, and rob us of much of Life’s beauty and passion.
This is an arresting thought. Maybe before rushing into the rest of your day you’d like to pause for a moment and reflect a little more deeply on it. In what ways are you experiencing the truth that ‘speed kills’ – in your lifestyle, your work, your relationships, your spiritual life? How are rushing past Life and missing it in the process? What would it take for you to slow down today?
PRAY AS YOU GO
Slowly pray this meditative prayer, based on Ps 46:10, pausing between each line:
Be still and know that I am God.
Be still and know that I am.
Be still and know.
Be still.
Be.
Speed is the slang word for a chemical drug that consists of amphetamine or methamphetamine. It’s a powerful stimulant that’s often used in the clubbing scene to keep people alert and awake, but its temporary pick-me-up type effect on the nervous system means that it is used in a variety of other settings too. For instance, I once spoke to a recovering speed addict who said that she was tempted to start using again during one of my slightly-longer-than-usual sermons!
As a drug, Speed is aptly named, because of the rush that it literally delivers. It does so by increasing the levels of dopamine and serotonin in the brain, accelerating the action of these key neurotransmitters. This leads to an increase in perceived energy levels, heightened awareness and feelings of euphoria.
All of which sounds pretty terrific. But when you follow the road that Speed takes you on – the initial rush, the increased tolerance, the dependence, the addiction – when you follow that road you discover that it leads, quite literally, to a dead end. It destroys life. It’s true – speed kills.
But it’s not just the chemical variety of speed that people get addicted to. We live in a world that is obsessed with getting things done faster and faster all the time. Efficiency, productivity, minimizing down-town, maximizing output – these are the standards by which we are judged in this rat-race-ish world. And without even realizing it we trade Life for something-less-than-Life.
But every now and then someone comes along who challenges the conventional wisdom of the day. Wendell Berry is one such person. He is an author and poet who is fiercely critical of the short-sighted progress of technological advancement and our society’s endless obsession with doing things faster and faster. His ideas run counter to the mainstream thinking of our contemporary culture, and he is often derided as a result. But what he says cannot be so quickly dismissed.
He’s somebody who walks the talk. For instance, although he has written over 40 books, he refuses to buy a computer. Instead, he writes his manuscripts in long-hand with a pencil, and then gets someone to type them out for him. Now before you laugh this off as hopelessly outdated and embarrassingly archaic, listen to what he says. He writes:
“I acknowledge that, as a writer, I need a lot of help. And I have received an abundance of the best of help from my wife, from other members of my family, from friends, from teachers, from editors, and sometimes from readers.... But a computer, I’m told, offers a kind of help that you can’t get from other humans; a computer will help you to write faster, easier, and more. Do I, then, want to write faster, easier, and more? No. My standards are not speed, ease, and quantity. I have already left behind too much evidence that, writing with just a pencil, I have sometimes written too fast, too easily, and too much. I would like to be a better writer, and for that I need help from other humans, not a machine.”
My purpose here is not to argue for or against the merits of using a computer. But rather for us to reflect on what is truly important. Wendell Berry suggests that speed, ease and quantity are not the best yardsticks by which to measure our work and the productive contribution we make to the world. That in fact, these values can choke the life out of us, and rob us of much of Life’s beauty and passion.
This is an arresting thought. Maybe before rushing into the rest of your day you’d like to pause for a moment and reflect a little more deeply on it. In what ways are you experiencing the truth that ‘speed kills’ – in your lifestyle, your work, your relationships, your spiritual life? How are rushing past Life and missing it in the process? What would it take for you to slow down today?
PRAY AS YOU GO
Slowly pray this meditative prayer, based on Ps 46:10, pausing between each line:
Be still and know that I am God.
Be still and know that I am.
Be still and know.
Be still.
Be.
Monday, 25 October 2010
Life in the fast lane
DAILY BYTE
Near to where I live the M13 highway heads inland from 45th Cutting just outside Durban towards Pinetown. Before it reaches Pinetown, the M13 winds through a fairly picturesque area (as far as highways go) of indigenous bush before merging with a double-lane offramp flowing from the N3.
In my experience, the traffic from the N3 offramp is usually traveling considerably faster than the traffic on the M13, and because this faster traffic merges from the left hand side, it leads to an interesting scenario. You can be taking a leisurely drive along the M13, pretty much minding your own business and enjoying the scenery, when suddenly you find yourself in the fast lane of a multi-lane highway, with cars rushing up behind you, flashing their lights and hooting at you to move over or get a move on.
Whenever it happens to me I never fail to reflect on how this is true of so much of life – how easily I find myself traveling in the fast lane, and I’m not even sure how I got there. Think for a moment how this might be true for you, with the demands of work, marriage, kids, friends, church and family requiring more and more from you. And when you manage to catch your breath for just a moment and reflect on the breakneck pace of your life, you realize that you’re living in the fast lane, that’s it’s pretty much “go go go” all the time, and you’re not even sure how this happened.
The 59th Street Bridge Song by Paul Simon & Art Garfunkle begins with the memorable words, ‘Slow down you move too fast.’ The song goes on to paint a somewhat idyllic picture of a more gentle paced life, that is the exact opposite of life in the fast lane. Consider these words in the final verse:
Got no deeds to do, no promises to keep
I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep
Let the morning time drop all its petals on me
Life, I love you, all is groovy!
At this point we say, ‘Aha! Wishful escapist fantasy.’ (And certainly, any song with the word ‘groovy’ in it would probably fall into that category.) And I guess that it is, for who of us can honestly say, ‘Got no deeds to do, no promises to keep.’ Given this reality, is there any hope for us to live a less frantic, frenetic life that doesn’t require a complete abdication of all of our roles and responsibilities?
That is the theme that will be explored in our devotions this week. For the scriptures are clear that there is more to life than rushing from one thing to the next. Indeed, the compelling witness of our faith tradition is that woven into the sacred rhythms of a balanced and abundant life are times for rest and reflection and renewal, which are not only possible but essential if we are to live healthy, productive, sustainable and faithful lives.
PRAY-AS-YOU-GO
Gracious God, sometimes my life gets completely out of control as I rush from one thing to the next, constantly dealing with all kinds of demands and juggling many different responsibilities. Remind me that there is more to life than racing along in the fast lane all the time. May this week be an opportunity to examine the busyness of my life in the light of your word, that I may live more truly the life that you call me to. Amen
SCRIPTURE READING
Hebrews 4:1, 9-10
“Therefore, while the promise of entering his rest is still open, let us take care that none of you should seem to have failed to reach it... So then, a sabbath rest still remains for the people of God; for those who enter God’s rest also cease from their labours as God did from his.”
Near to where I live the M13 highway heads inland from 45th Cutting just outside Durban towards Pinetown. Before it reaches Pinetown, the M13 winds through a fairly picturesque area (as far as highways go) of indigenous bush before merging with a double-lane offramp flowing from the N3.
In my experience, the traffic from the N3 offramp is usually traveling considerably faster than the traffic on the M13, and because this faster traffic merges from the left hand side, it leads to an interesting scenario. You can be taking a leisurely drive along the M13, pretty much minding your own business and enjoying the scenery, when suddenly you find yourself in the fast lane of a multi-lane highway, with cars rushing up behind you, flashing their lights and hooting at you to move over or get a move on.
Whenever it happens to me I never fail to reflect on how this is true of so much of life – how easily I find myself traveling in the fast lane, and I’m not even sure how I got there. Think for a moment how this might be true for you, with the demands of work, marriage, kids, friends, church and family requiring more and more from you. And when you manage to catch your breath for just a moment and reflect on the breakneck pace of your life, you realize that you’re living in the fast lane, that’s it’s pretty much “go go go” all the time, and you’re not even sure how this happened.
The 59th Street Bridge Song by Paul Simon & Art Garfunkle begins with the memorable words, ‘Slow down you move too fast.’ The song goes on to paint a somewhat idyllic picture of a more gentle paced life, that is the exact opposite of life in the fast lane. Consider these words in the final verse:
Got no deeds to do, no promises to keep
I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep
Let the morning time drop all its petals on me
Life, I love you, all is groovy!
At this point we say, ‘Aha! Wishful escapist fantasy.’ (And certainly, any song with the word ‘groovy’ in it would probably fall into that category.) And I guess that it is, for who of us can honestly say, ‘Got no deeds to do, no promises to keep.’ Given this reality, is there any hope for us to live a less frantic, frenetic life that doesn’t require a complete abdication of all of our roles and responsibilities?
That is the theme that will be explored in our devotions this week. For the scriptures are clear that there is more to life than rushing from one thing to the next. Indeed, the compelling witness of our faith tradition is that woven into the sacred rhythms of a balanced and abundant life are times for rest and reflection and renewal, which are not only possible but essential if we are to live healthy, productive, sustainable and faithful lives.
PRAY-AS-YOU-GO
Gracious God, sometimes my life gets completely out of control as I rush from one thing to the next, constantly dealing with all kinds of demands and juggling many different responsibilities. Remind me that there is more to life than racing along in the fast lane all the time. May this week be an opportunity to examine the busyness of my life in the light of your word, that I may live more truly the life that you call me to. Amen
SCRIPTURE READING
Hebrews 4:1, 9-10
“Therefore, while the promise of entering his rest is still open, let us take care that none of you should seem to have failed to reach it... So then, a sabbath rest still remains for the people of God; for those who enter God’s rest also cease from their labours as God did from his.”
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