Tomorrow begins my every-seven-years three-month sabbatical. There are a bunch of reasons why the occasional extended break is a good idea for those in vocational ministry. One of those has to do with how much pastors talk about God.

God-talk is an occupational hazard for pastors. Praying in public, preaching, spiritual direction, and leading all require regular references to God. Having been called by a congregation to repeatedly tell the story of creation, fall, and redemption, a pastor cannot help but speak often about God.

This isn’t a bad thing. Most of us, subject as we are to the immanence of day-to-day obligations, are prone to forget that we live and move and have our being in the presence of the Creator and Sustainer of all things. We are generally preoccupied with the practical stuff of home repairs, after-school activities, college loans, a job search, and all of the regular emotional adjustments which sustain our relationships. We need someone to remind us that none of these very human concerns are separate from God’s attention and care. So pastors find their mouths full of God grammar, suggesting verbs and nouns which invite people to broaden their immediate interests just enough to interpret diaper changes, car troubles, and vacation plans through the truth of God.

Despite its necessity, language about God can be overused to the point of triviality. Earth-shaking words like holiness, righteousness, and grace are dulled by repetitive and unreflective use. Forgiveness, reconciliation, and parousia no longer slow our cadence or catch our breath. Language which once felt appropriately strange becomes the bland verbal wallpaper behind a pastor’s activity. So fluent have we become with talk about God that we no longer seek the angel’s cleansing coal for our unclean lips.

Sometimes, when reviewing a draft sentence for an upcoming sermon, I’ll recognize that I’ve written something that ought to have caused a bit of fear and trembling. Instead, over-familiarity has inoculated me from the implications of the words. Or, during a pastoral care conversation, it will become evident that I’ve not accompanied my conversation partner onto holy ground but have taken on the professional demeanor of someone who knows what they’re talking about.

One of the remedies for God-talk is for a pastor to shut their mouth for a while. A break from being expected to say things about God can allow a pastor to be freshly destabilized by the reality of God. Old words can, in all of their glory, be heard again. New vocabularies can be learned which expand the nuances and particularities about the God who dwells among us.

I’m looking forward to a slower, quieter pace during my sabbatical. Extra time with Maggie and the boys is at the top of the list of things I’m excited about. So too is the chance say less about God while attending more carefully to God. What does that mean for this occasional newsletter during the summer? I’ve got a few book excerpts lined up from authors whose work I think you’ll find interesting. Beyond that, I don’t have any writing plans though I anticipate a reflection or two based on our family’s travel. I’ll be gleefully away from email during the summer so I’ll miss any of your replies to the newsletter, but I remain grateful (and surprised) that so many of you continue to read. Thanks!

Race Against Gun Violence

A huge thanks to Mary, Celeste, Rebekah, and Louise for donating to my fundraiser for New Community Outreach. The race is on Thursday so you’ve still got plenty of time to give. Thanks!

(Photo credit: Jan van der Wolf.)

The View From Here

During the past couple of months I’ve been slowly adding to my stack of sabbatical books. Will I read all of these? Doubtful. But can anyone else relate to the comfort provided by an interesting pile of books? It’s the best!