Be at leisure, and know God
The Roman Catholic philosopher Josef Pieper, in his book Leisure, the Basis of Culture (St. Augustine’s Press, 1998; orig. in German, 1948), first introduced me to the idea that there is authentic leisure in the Christian faith. Pieper begins his reflection with a translation of the familiar verse from Psalm 45* : “Be still and know that I am God.” Pieper points out, however, that a more accurate translation of the Hebrew might read, “Be at leisure, and know that I am God.”
We Christians—or I should say many of us—are not good with the idea of leisure. We have great difficulty, for example, with the notion of Sabbath rest (I hasten to note that Pieper ties his thinking about leisure to the Sabbath), and we have bought into, to a large degree, the Western-Capitalist idea that idleness is the enemy of success and profit-making, though Western-Capitalism by no means has a corner on this attitude.
Even when we say we are at leisure, we are busy with our doings. We play games, we travel to exotic places, we garden, we build, we clean, we de-clutter, we drive, we fly, we ply the seas, we seek to entertain and be entertained, etc. Leisure is a time for doing, hardly a time for rest. (Another point along similar lines could be made about our fear of silence, but I’ll save that for a later essay.)
Sociologist Max Weber’s interpretation of Calvinist theology in his exposition of the Protestant work ethic has had the effect of defining idleness—be it religious or secular—as a shortcoming (an effect not intended by Weber, I believe).
Time is Life
In keeping with a popular perception of that ethic, however, we constantly are admonished to avoid “wasting time.” And we are warned that “time is money” by the economic interests that drive our culture. I have learned to respond to this warning by countering, “Time is not money; time is life.”
I spent much energy in my childhood and youth—and early adulthood--fighting what I now call the anxiety of faith. I’m not talking about any genuine concern with sin and failure (although I think that’s a related topic), and I’m not speaking of the fear that comes with anxiety about losing one’s faith; rather, I’m speaking of the anxiety that arises when one feels one has to spend much time and energy defending one’s faith or justifying one’s beliefs and religious behavior.
Theological "Rightness"
Don’t get me wrong, you readers out there who think deeply about what is known in theology as apologetics, I’m aware there’s a place for thoughtful exposition of the tenets of one’s faith. What I resist is the compulsion to defend the “rightness” or “correctness” of one’s theological views in such a manner that it seeks to belittle or destroy another’s beliefs or doubts. A parallel piety to such a compulsion is a negation of authentic leisure. Fortunately for me, I studied Christian apologetics with a professor who wisely reminded his charges that “God needs no defense from us.”
For most of my life I have aligned myself with a Christian faith community that is best described as evangelical. I continue to live and work largely among evangelical Christians, where I am judged conservative by my liberal friends and liberal by my conservative friends. Such are the pangs of Christianity at leisure.
However, as I’ve grown older and come to appreciate more the magnificent mystery of God and his incarnate Christ and indwelling Spirit, I’ve recognized a kind of Achilles’ heel in evangelical thinking that looks something like this: Enlightenment Rationalism produced modern Biblical criticism as well as theological Liberalism, and the best way to resist and battle this way of thinking is to out-rationalize the rationalists.
Leisure and Evangelicalism
The word “relax” and its concomitant attitude of being at rest seem to have escaped this supra-rationalism of Evangelicalism. A consistent demand for “right” doctrine that divides and separates often ends with the anxiety of faith I’m describing. We do not love our neighbors as ourselves; we instead attempt to make-over our neighbors in our own image.
Looked at this way, our resistance to authentic leisure is brought to an abrupt halt by the Psalmist’s admonition to know God by being at leisure (in fact, several translators render the familiar “Be still” of the Psalm as “Desist!”).
This blog, called “Faith at Ease,” is an attempt to work out what it means for contemporary Christians to give leisure its rightful place in our worship and theology.
Welcome aboard. Relax! and perhaps we will better know God along the way.
* Pieper refers to Psalm 45 (verse 11), which is the quotation in the Douay-Rheims translation. Most Protestant translations have the reference at 46:10.
We Christians—or I should say many of us—are not good with the idea of leisure. We have great difficulty, for example, with the notion of Sabbath rest (I hasten to note that Pieper ties his thinking about leisure to the Sabbath), and we have bought into, to a large degree, the Western-Capitalist idea that idleness is the enemy of success and profit-making, though Western-Capitalism by no means has a corner on this attitude.
Even when we say we are at leisure, we are busy with our doings. We play games, we travel to exotic places, we garden, we build, we clean, we de-clutter, we drive, we fly, we ply the seas, we seek to entertain and be entertained, etc. Leisure is a time for doing, hardly a time for rest. (Another point along similar lines could be made about our fear of silence, but I’ll save that for a later essay.)
Sociologist Max Weber’s interpretation of Calvinist theology in his exposition of the Protestant work ethic has had the effect of defining idleness—be it religious or secular—as a shortcoming (an effect not intended by Weber, I believe).
Time is Life
In keeping with a popular perception of that ethic, however, we constantly are admonished to avoid “wasting time.” And we are warned that “time is money” by the economic interests that drive our culture. I have learned to respond to this warning by countering, “Time is not money; time is life.”
I spent much energy in my childhood and youth—and early adulthood--fighting what I now call the anxiety of faith. I’m not talking about any genuine concern with sin and failure (although I think that’s a related topic), and I’m not speaking of the fear that comes with anxiety about losing one’s faith; rather, I’m speaking of the anxiety that arises when one feels one has to spend much time and energy defending one’s faith or justifying one’s beliefs and religious behavior.
Theological "Rightness"
Don’t get me wrong, you readers out there who think deeply about what is known in theology as apologetics, I’m aware there’s a place for thoughtful exposition of the tenets of one’s faith. What I resist is the compulsion to defend the “rightness” or “correctness” of one’s theological views in such a manner that it seeks to belittle or destroy another’s beliefs or doubts. A parallel piety to such a compulsion is a negation of authentic leisure. Fortunately for me, I studied Christian apologetics with a professor who wisely reminded his charges that “God needs no defense from us.”
For most of my life I have aligned myself with a Christian faith community that is best described as evangelical. I continue to live and work largely among evangelical Christians, where I am judged conservative by my liberal friends and liberal by my conservative friends. Such are the pangs of Christianity at leisure.
However, as I’ve grown older and come to appreciate more the magnificent mystery of God and his incarnate Christ and indwelling Spirit, I’ve recognized a kind of Achilles’ heel in evangelical thinking that looks something like this: Enlightenment Rationalism produced modern Biblical criticism as well as theological Liberalism, and the best way to resist and battle this way of thinking is to out-rationalize the rationalists.
Leisure and Evangelicalism
The word “relax” and its concomitant attitude of being at rest seem to have escaped this supra-rationalism of Evangelicalism. A consistent demand for “right” doctrine that divides and separates often ends with the anxiety of faith I’m describing. We do not love our neighbors as ourselves; we instead attempt to make-over our neighbors in our own image.
Looked at this way, our resistance to authentic leisure is brought to an abrupt halt by the Psalmist’s admonition to know God by being at leisure (in fact, several translators render the familiar “Be still” of the Psalm as “Desist!”).
This blog, called “Faith at Ease,” is an attempt to work out what it means for contemporary Christians to give leisure its rightful place in our worship and theology.
Welcome aboard. Relax! and perhaps we will better know God along the way.
* Pieper refers to Psalm 45 (verse 11), which is the quotation in the Douay-Rheims translation. Most Protestant translations have the reference at 46:10.
No comments:
Post a Comment