3 Spiritual Practices to Foster Rest

“Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.” — Jesus (Mark 6:31)

Life is busy. There’s little time to rest or pursue practices that feed our inner lives with joy. We’re constantly bombarded with messages to be more, do better, work harder, and never ever quit, regardless of the cost to our health or relationships. But if we’re going to wholeheartedly follow Jesus, our lives must be marked by rest, not hustle.

As we celebrate this Labor Day, it would be prudent of us to remember that Jesus is the Good Shepherd. He leads his people beside quiet waters; he lets them lie down in green pastures (Ps. 23). Those who come to Jesus, weary and burdened from the trials of life, find rest (Matt. 11:28). Jesus is not a shepherd who merely leads his people to more work, more effort, or more striving, but rather a shepherd who works for the emotional, physical, spiritual, and relational health of his sheep.

In various places throughout the Gospels, we see Jesus retreating for the sake of being alone with the Father. His practice of rest, particularly after a long day of ministry, would have been recognized by his disciples, though likely not understood. Jesus modeled rest. But he didn’t stop at modeling; he regularly invited his followers to rest. Jesus would never say, as some adults jokingly do today, “Do as I say, not as I do.” For Jesus, it’s more like, “Do as I say, and as I do.”

In the verse cited above, we see Jesus responding to his disciples’ report about the various things they accomplished on a recent mission trip. To be sure, what they accomplished by his authority was quite miraculous. They healed the sick, preached repentance, and drove demons out of people who were possessed. Because of all the activity, Jesus’s popularity grew rapidly, so much so that the disciples didn’t have time to eat (v. 31).

When the apostles gathered around Jesus to report all they had done and taught, Jesus responded in a way that was likely unexpected, confusing, and maybe even frustrating. Imagine fulfilling a task given to you by your boss. When reporting your success, you’d likely hope for or expect praise, something akin to, “Great work! Keep it up! Get back in the game. Don’t quit!” But Jesus said something entirely different to his faithful followers. He called them to rest.

Remember the Loverboy song, Everybody’s Working for the Weekend? That’s an exhausting way to exist. We’re taught to work hard and grind through the week in hopes of catching a break at the weekend. But Jesus, in an extremely counter-cultural way, calls us to work from rest, not for rest. In essence, what Jesus teaches is that approaching our to-do lists from a place of rest will produce more fruit over the long haul than working ourselves sick.

With that in mind, are there practices from the early church that could help us slow down and savor more of life and, therefore, more of God? Are there rhythms we could implement to help us approach life in a way that looks like Jesus? Thankfully, there are several.

Let’s organize our practices into three buckets. Use any word picture you’d like. We’ll label bucket one, The Daily Delay, bucket two, The Weekly Withdrawal, and bucket three, The Annual Abandon. Full disclosure: the labels were borrowed from pastor Ted Cunningham, who uses them to organize healthy rhythms in marriage, but they work equally well for spiritual practices. Within each bucket is an essential spiritual practice to help us foster rest over the course of our busy lives.

The Daily Delay (Fixed-Hour Prayer)

The first bucket is the daily delay. Within it is the practice called fixed-hour prayer. It has also been called the daily office or the divine hours. The main point of this practice is to determine a set time or times during the day to get quiet with the Father. We can utilize five minutes of our lunch hour to fixate on God, whether through silence, praying a psalm, a pre-written prayer, or one that is more extemporaneous. The amount of time or type of prayer isn’t the most important thing. What counts is regularly getting still before God. It could prove just as powerful in the morning or at the end of the day.

Throughout church history, monks have practiced fixed-hour prayer every day of the week by pausing seven times during the day. This means, among other things, that they rise in the wee hours of the night to pray. I’m not suggesting we follow that practice in the same way because for most of us, our nights can’t look like a monk’s nor do our days resemble theirs. But the principle holds.

It’s been said that our lives are made up of every decision we make. If that’s true, then practicing fixed-hour prayer would center our lives around the person and presence of God.

The Weekly Withdrawal (Sabbath)

Next is the weekly withdrawal. This bucket holds at its center the practice of Sabbath. Sabbath is far more than a day off once a week. According to John Mark Comer, Sabbath is “a spirit of restfulness that goes with you throughout your week. A way of living with ‘ease, gratitude, appreciation, peace and power.’ A way of working from rest, not for rest, with nothing to prove. A way bearing fruit from abiding, not ambition” (The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry, 172). That’s radically different than a day off.

To Sabbath well is to cease striving. Ambition has no place in Sabbath rest. When we Sabbath, whether from sundown on Friday to sundown on Saturday (which is typical in Jewish households) or some other twenty-four-hour time slot, we say yes to restful, worshipful, and delightful rhythms. We welcome God, his creation, and the numerous gifts he gives. During Sabbath, we stop. There’s no need to strive, hurry, or impress. We trust that God can run the world without our constant activity in it. And we rest.

The Annual Abandon (Retreat)

Lastly, there is the annual abandon. At the center of this bucket is the practice of retreat. Retreating is about getting away for a weekend or an entire week to unplug from ministry and be alone with God. No technology. No work. Just a person alone with his or her Bible and lots of stillness. This practice has proven extremely beneficial to my emotional and spiritual health. I’m typically able to dream bigger dreams, set better goals, imagine what is not but could be, and discern God’s will with enhanced clarity when I return from retreat.

There’s likely to be a retreat center near you. In many cases, these centers operate on free-will offerings. So, if your budget is tight, there’s little excuse to not get away. Whether we’re in full-time vocational ministry or working a 9-to-5 job, we need rest. A once-a-year retreat should find its way onto our calendars.

Corrie ten Boom said that if Satan can’t make us sin, he’ll make us busy. There’s no lack of busyness in our world today. Even in the Church, maybe especially there, pastors and ministry leaders are running out of gas. There are always more tasks to accomplish, more people to help, and more problems to solve. I find that in pastoral ministry needs arise often and usually unexpectedly. I don’t get to plan when I officiate a funeral or when I’m visited by a church member who is hurting and in need of care. When I neglect spiritual practices of rest, the unexpected induces burnout, frustration, and a desire to distance myself from those I love and am called to care for.

Perhaps what Christians need more than another conference, program, degree, or leadership intensive is rest—the unhurried rhythms of sitting with the Father and receiving his love with no strings attached. We are loved. We don’t have to produce anything.

Life is busy. Ministry is hard work. By implementing these spiritual practices, Christians can experience rest, engage the people and world around them from rest, and invite others into it, as Jesus did.

Daniel Seabaugh

Daniel Seabaugh serves as the Adult Discipleship Pastor at La Croix Church in Cape Girardeau, Missouri, where he lives with his wife, Rachel, and their six daughters. He’s a graduate of College of the Ozarks and Denver Seminary, the author of A Heart of Holiness: Cultivating Wisdom in a World of Self, and writes regularly at danielseabaugh.com.

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