Stop

What does this road sign mean to you?

Stop. Do you ever really stop? As I was hurriedly driving through town trying to get this and that done, trying to use my time with the utmost efficiency so that not a minute went wasted, I noticed that we humans rarely stop. This could be another lesson I've learned while observing my dogs because they are all too good at  stopping from taking time to smell the flowers, pee on a bush, say hello to other furry friends, cuddle in a lap or soak up the sunniest part of the yard, dogs can teach us something about stopping. As my late father-in-law used to say as he chased such rabbit trails that I too am in the habit of doing, "However, I digress." This is not a post about lessons learned from dogs, but simply an observation of the fact that rarely do we US East Coasters stop. We're always on and rarely off. We're people of production who've been taught to judge ourselves and others by how much we do and accomplish. I used to love the advice of my first FCA huddle leader, "Do not fear death, fear a wasted life," but I think such a phrase all too well defines our over zealous on-the-go way of life; it is sadly a truth about who we are and what we value, a lifestyle that keeps us all occupied 24/7/365. Many of us truly fearing deep inside a wasted life that will not be remembered for any accomplishment.
As I was driving through town, I noticed that rarely does anyone completely stop for a stop sign. You know those big, red signs that by law instruct us to completely stop? Some of my athletes I've coached have failed the driver's exam because they did not make a full and complete stop. Most of us pause ever so slightly to make sure no other cars or people are preventing us from hurrying on to whatever task we are currently in hot pursuit. I'm guilty of this--all too guilty in fact. Stop signs are merely suggestions, just the way speed limits are suggestions, right?
I noticed myself and others disobeying the law time and time again all within the span of an hour, none of us thinking anything of it; no one ever really does until someone gets hurt, I think. Such a rush pace of life in the fast lane is exhausting. I was in a clergy peer group discussion in Nashville at GBOD (General Board of Discipleship), and when asked to describe adults today the number one description was "tired." There is no time to stop, to break, to breathe. I remember during my first six months at my first appointment, I was utterly overwhelmed and exhausted. I started going to a pastoral counselor to unload some of the burdens and pressures I had been heaping on myself. I remember telling him after just six months in the "real world," "If these six months are a window into what being an adult is all about, I don't want to be an adult." He said to me, "But life--adult life or any life--doesn't have to be that way. We've made life that way. Perhaps as a leader in the church, you need to teach that there is another way."

Do you ever just stop and praise God
for his beautiful handiwork?

Just as we often ignore the big, red stop signs of our everyday existence as drivers, we, Christians, tend to ignore or at least play down the whole 4th commandment where God commands us to "observe the Sabbath and keep it holy," or in other words stop and honor God of Lord of the Sabbath. Yes, Jesus "worked" on the Sabbath (Mark 2) and in doing so he honored our Father as Lord of the Sabbath, but we cannot deny that Jesus was also very much in the habit of keeping Sabbath by stopping, retreating away to pray, to be alone, to worship, to eat, to commune with his closest friends. This one incident in Mark 2 does not null and void the full picture of Jesus' life and ministry that illustrates much sabbathing, coming to a full stop before God.
Our modern concept of Sabbath being an hour or two on Sunday is merely a rolling stop at a stop sign, and let's be honest, for most of us, the hour or two we church together is more about us than it is about God. Yes, I said it. The music that's not to your taste, the person sitting in your pew, pews being roped off, the preacher's mediocre sermon, the person wearing jeans or bringing coffee into the sanctuary, a fussy baby wouldn't irritate or distract you so much if you were really there for God. "The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath; the Son of Man is Lord of the sabbath." Or as contemporary Christian singer and songwriter, Matt Redman, sings, "I'm coming back to the heart of worship/it's all about you/all about you, Jesus/I'm sorry for the thing I've made it/When it's all about you/It's all about you Jesus." Redman's song is about worship, but the same could be said about getting back to the heart of the Sabbath; it's all about Jesus, and yet do we even really stop for Jesus?