The New England Church Pulpit New England Congregational Church UCC Aurora Illinois

It seems that time is moving faster these days, but of course, that is an illusion. It seems that way because there is too much for most of us to do in the available time we have. We say we need another couple of hours in the day and another day each week, but we’d only fill that up with activity as well.

We live in a world of speed and busyness. All around us life moves faster than we can sometimes imagine and summers escape us without even much of a notice. We strain to be more efficient, to cram more into each day, and speed has become a cult of sorts, enslaving us to the clock and taking us captive without permission.

Americans spend 40% less time with their children than they did in the 1960s;
the average American spends seventy-two minutes of every day behind the wheel of a car;
a typical business executive now loses sixty-eight hours a year to being put on hold. We’ve learned to multi-task at work and home, and we have learned to drive and talk on the phone at the same time, though often the quality of our driving is sacrificed. Big business expects more out of us if we’re going to stay with the company and spend a lifetime achieving success so we can prove that we are worthy of people’s respect. We value choices but often there are so many choices that the energy we spend making the perfect decision enervates us. Striving to be the biggest, the best, and the first pushes us to the brink of exhaustion as we try to stay one step ahead of the game.

Each week we come to this place with the hope of catching a breath and renewing our spirits at least for this one hour. The Psalmist reminds us of the necessity of slowing down, of pacing ourselves, of finding balance, of meditating in God’s law continually. God’s law decrees that the tree grow slowly by the waters edge, sending roots deep into the earth to stabilize itself. God’s law decrees that the stars stay in orbit and out of the violence of the big bang, the creation continues to birth new planets on the edge of the universe; God’s law is about the cycle of nature in which things die and are reborn to new life; God’s law has to do with the earth rotating and spinning on its own axis and within the cosmic orbit; God’s law has to do with the way birds sing in rain and sunshine, and caterpillars spin cocoons to become butterflies, and nature presents colors to us in flower and tree and birds’ plumage even though these living canvasses are oblivious to the delight they give us simply by being. By meditating on this world around us, our clamor to be people of beauty and objects of importance is balanced in the quiet, slow evolution of nature. Remember, Jesus said, that the lily of the field does not worry about what clothes it will wear or where it will get food, and yet it is more beautiful that the finest silk money can buy.

A friend of mine some years ago, who owned a business that employed a half-dozen people, stumbled onto the parable of the hare and the tortoise one day in his meditation, and wondered if slowing down a bit might be more productive. It seemed crazy enough to work. So he implemented a 36-hour work week with the whole office, giving them a half-day off mid week; they worked no more than two and a half days before some time away. And just as he predicted, productivity increased, the camaraderie among his employees improved, and the environment in which they worked took on a new energy. Customers were happier and the business thrived. Sometimes the frantic pace is counterproductive and meaningful work belongs to the slow. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, my grandfather used to say. And that oft-quoted author Anonymous said: no one on their death bed ever wishes they’d spent more time in the office.

I have been attending prayer services at the Mosque for the last few weeks to establish a friendship with our Isalmic brothers and sisters. Last Friday, Dr. Khajawa (ha - jah) spoke about the value of work and the celebration of Labor Day as a important event for Muslims. A central tenet of their faith is to provide for themselves and their families and celebrate the jobs that allow them to do that. He spoke slowly and with deliberation, with a calm demeanor that seemed antithetical to the work-a-day world. And in that quiet, unadorned Mosque a sense of serenity pervaded the notion of work, and even as ones daily activity to support oneself was venerated, the balance with the life of prayer and meditation became evident as another tenet of faith. Blessed is the one who meditates day and night.

The Sufi poet Rumi speaks of quietness in the metaphor of death, and indeed, until we have come to terms with death, we cannot live. Much of our frantic pace is an attempt to stave off the grim reaper; it takes a lot of energy to pretend we’re not getting older. Even in the 13th century when Rumi lived, there was a sense of “frantic running from silence”, as he puts it. He nudges us to take an axe to the walls that imprison us in the hectic pace that kills the spirit of enjoyment and delight. Escape to become the sky; walk out like someone suddenly born into color. You’re covered with thick cloud, so slide out the side. Die to business as usual; die to being a slave to other people’s agendas; die to conforming at the risk of meaningful living. Die and be quiet.

Labor Day is often seen as the holiday that bids summer goodbye even as it celebrates the value of work and appreciation of the laborers. Waving a fond adieu to a summer that went by too quickly, we take up the banner of peace that these elements of bread and wine hold before us with the words of Wilfred Peterson that become our scripture for the days ahead.

Slow me down, Lord!
Ease the pounding of my heart
By the quieting of my mind.
Steady my harried pace
With a vision of the eternal reach of time.

Give me,
Amidst the confusions of my day,
The calmness of the everlasting hills.
Break the tensions of my nerves
With the soothing music of the sighing streams
That live in my memory.

Help me to know
The magical restoring power of sleep.
Teach me the art
Of taking minute vacations of slowing down to look at a flower;
To chat with an old friend or to make a new one;
To pat a stray dog;
To watch a spider build a web;
To smile at a child;
Or to read a few lines from a good book.
Remind me each day
That the race is not always to the swift;
That there is more to life than increasing its speed.
Let me look upward
Into the branches of the towering oak
And know that it grew slowly and well.

Slow me down, Lord,
And inspire me to send my roots deep
Into the soil of life's enduring values
That I may grow toward the stars
Of my greater destiny.

–Gary L. McCann

Psalm 1
Blessed is the one who does not walk in the council of the wicked nor stands in the way of sinners or sits in the seat of scoffers, but who rather takes delight in the law of the Lord, and on this law meditates day and night. She is like a tree planted by streams of water which yields fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever she does prospers.

Quietness
Jelaluddin Rumi

Inside this new love, die.
Your way begins on the other side.
Become the sky.
Take an axe to the prison wall.
Escape.
Walk out like someone suddenly born into color.
Do it now.
You’re covered with thick cloud.
Slide out the side. Die,
and be quiet. Quietness is the surest sign
that you’ve died.
Your old life was a frantic running
from silence.
The speechless full moon
comes out now.
(Translated by Coleman Barks)

PASTORAL PRAYER

Our God, creator of time, we gather today to wait on your presence. In creating us in your image you have in your wisdom and love made us creatures of time. In this our moment of corporate confession, we would confess that in these times of instant everything, our patience wears thin when we have to wait. We push the elevator button several times to get to our floor faster. We are less than tolerant of those who keep us waiting, feeling that our time is more important than theirs. We keep pushing, racing our engines and taking chances to gain five seconds in getting to the next appointment so we can check it off our list so we can drive fast to get to the next one.

Sometimes it seems that great distances exist between the high points of our lives. Time moves swiftly and we tend to let it slip away without making it count while we wait for another high experience. We discount it as nothing unless we have reached some spectacular height, accomplished some great thing, and have passed ten other people along the way.

Teach us to know that we are not idle when we stand still, watching, listening, to seek your presence in the sounds of nature and people around us Teach us to accept the gift of the present moment that will quickly pass away. Open our ears of our bodies and the ears of our hearts that we may listen to the wondrous word that exists in all around us, and instill within us a holy quietness to slow the pace of our all-too-busy lives. In the name of the one who taught us to ponder the delights of the lilies of the field and the birds of the air, Amen.

(Adapted from a prayer by Harry Emerson Fosdick)

Copyright © 2004 by Gary L. McCann. All rights reserved.

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