It’s been said that you’re a candidate for burnout when you consider a 40-hour week a vacation. Or
when, upon punching in your most recent appointment, your Blackberry starts smoking, then
explodes. I can relate in a big way to this at the moment! Some of us vaguely feel that if we’re not
exhausting ourselves doing the Lord’s work, there’s something we’re not doing right. In fact, I have
a framed poster in my office that more or less extols the virtues of working for the kingdom until you
drop.
Well, traditions of a Protestant work ethic notwithstanding, the scriptures actually have something to
say about this. In fact, Jesus himself has something to say about this in today’s Gospel reading from
the first chapter of Mark, and then again in Mark 6.
Let’s set the stage first for today’s reading. Jesus has chosen his first disciples, and he wastes no
time at all getting down to business.
You’ll recall that last week we had that dramatic story of the exorcism of the demon-possessed man
in the synagogue. Listen to what Mark says about what happens next: “As soon as they left the
synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. Now Simon’s
mother-in-law was in bed with a fever and they told him about her at once. He came and took her by
the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them. That evening, at
sundown, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was
gathered around the door. And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out
many demons, and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.”
So Jesus takes his first disciples and gets to work in what sounds like a pretty intense succession of
healings and exorcisms among the city folk who had flocked out to get a glimpse of this new
phenomenon. In a sentence that would be all too easy to slide right past, Mark then writes, “In the
morning while it was still very dark, Jesus got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he
prayed.”
Now let’s fast forward to Chapter 6. Much has happened in the interim. Jesus has called the rest of
the Twelve, has done intensive teaching of both the disciples and the growing multitudes, has done
more healings and exorcisms, has stilled the stormy Lake of Galilee, and even raised a girl from the
dead. Then came that great moment in which Jesus gave his disciples authority to heal and cast out
demons, and sent them out two-by-two to begin the first great, sustained mission work of the
Christian faith. They went out and accomplished enormous, miraculous things in the name of Jesus,
only to return and find that John the Baptist had been killed. It’s here that Jesus instructs them this
way, saying: “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” …
So we have two situations in which Jesus leads his followers into something completely new, which
requires an enormous expenditure of energy. Is this beginning to sound vaguely familiar? Does it
sound like anyone you know? Well, if it doesn’t, you might have been a little too focused on the view
over my left shoulder. My view has been a little different. In the three weeks or so since our move-
in, I’m seeing some pretty clear signs of fatigue, or in some cases, even burnout. Jesus shows us a
remedy for this in Mark’s Gospel, and I’d like to spend a few moments elaborating on this a little bit.
In Mark 1, after a crescendo of activity Jesus goes away to a deserted place to pray. And in Mark 6,
after both he and his disciples engage in another crescendo of activity, he prescribes a deserted
place for them to get some rest. In their book How to Beat Burnout, Frank Minirth and Paul Meier
point out three basic elements of Jesus’ prescription for burnout. They are (1) a change in location,
(2) a change in activity or responsibility, and (3) a certain amount of time.
Let’s take each in turn. I think it’s important to note first what Jesus didn’t say. He didn’t say, “Hey,
you’re doing something wrong! If you’d truly been working in the power of the Spirit, you wouldn’t be
feeling fried right now!” No, he realized that even when we’re working in God’s power, we still spend
our own energy. He also didn’t say, “Hey, you guys look tired. Recess time!” You know, “Sit down
and take five!” No, he acknowledged their exhaustion, then directed them to go to a place apart
from their work—a place where they wouldn’t be constantly confronted by needy and demanding
people. He invited them to “a deserted place.”
You see, it’s not enough simply to have a little break time; we sometimes need a little break space
as well. Where is your place of rest? Is it a campsite? A cabin? A special quiet place in the
countryside? For me, in successive living places, it’s been an old growth redwood grove, a couple
of hiking trails in Maryland, and now I’m looking at the Volcanoes trail west of Albuquerque as a
special place of retreat.
And then there’s the daily rest place. I’m delighted that, now that the church is built, I can do my
quiet times right up here in the sanctuary to begin my work day. Are you getting daily time with the
Lord in a place with no interruptions? I highly recommend it. It’s one of the more effective
inoculations against burnout. In Mark’s account of Jesus’ retreat, he emphasizes that Jesus went
there to pray—to talk with his Father in heaven, and receive deep rest and renewal. It really does
work.
The second element in Jesus’ prescription for R and R is a change in activity. Since we moved into
this beautiful building two or three people have expressed their desire and intention to step down, or
at least take a sabbatical from leading the ministries they’d been leading. After the initial dilation of
my eyes and catch in my throat, I quickly saw that this was both appropriate and needed in each
case. If I were the contemporary writer of Ecclesiastes, I’d be inclined to say, “There’s a time for
every season under heaven. A time to adjust schedules, a time to change duties. A time to reflect,
a time to re-tool.” And so on. And some folk-rock band would make a classic hit out of it. (Not.)
One of the delightfully familiar sounds at certain times of the year is the sound of the hoarse
honking of Canada geese overhead. Their serenade is fascinating enough, but have you ever
watched them in flight? They seem to be guided by the divine wisdom we’ve been talking about this
morning. They fly in a “V” formation, and periodically the goose at the head of the “V” peels away
and retreats to the rear. This is because there’s more wind resistance at the head of the “V”, since
there are no other geese in whose wind-wake to follow. It’s kind of the same principle as my little
Toyota following behind a Kenworth on I-40. It saves energy. (Although it’s probably a little safer to
follow a goose closely than a semi.) A change in activity might entail allowing someone else to take
leadership of a ministry for a while. Such a change in activity might involve a break from brain work
by doing something physical, or a break from physical work by doing something mental. It may even
involve just being a pew-sitter for a while. That’s OK.
But this brings us to the third element in the rest formula—making a change for a time. There are a
couple things one can do that may not be good for oneself or for the kingdom over the long haul.
The first of these is making a vow. I’ve heard these before. When we were in another town we were
inquiring about the possibility of some folks helping out in Sunday School, a response we heard
more than once was, “Hey, I’m done with that. I paid my dues. I did it for so long that I swore it off,
and I’ll never do that again.” It’s kind of like going 100 miles per hour and then screeching to a dead
stop and just staying there. One might be getting some rest, but this comes at a cost to the others
in the church body.
Another way that may not be best for all involved is to throw your hands up, quit your ministry, toss it
unceremoniously into the Vicar’s lap and say, “It’s your baby now!” As tempting as this may be at
times, please remember that your Vicar also is struggling with this whole balance thing, and has
limited time and energy. He can’t take on leadership of an unlimited number of ministries. So when
a lead goose peels away it doesn’t work so well if he or she goes into a smoking tailspin down and
away from the rest of the flock. That has limited utility.
Really, what this is all about is stewardship. As you know, stewardship has many aspects.
Stewardship is a matter of how we use those gifts that God has given us in this life. Having been
entrusted with a garden planet the likes of which is unknown elsewhere in the whole universe, we’re
charged to care for it “rightly and in the service of others” as the Prayers of the People says.
We’re expected to manage our own physical and financial resources in such a way that God’s
kingdom is advanced and the needy are provided for. In much the same way we’re expected to be
good stewards of our bodies—you know, those temples of the Holy Spirit—and our personal time
and energy. These, too, we are to manage in such a way that we live balanced lives designed more
to run a marathon than a sprint.
So I hope that Jesus’ own suggestions for renewal are helpful to you this morning. And I pray that
we will be ever mindful as to how we can best keep ourselves in shape for serving our Lord in the
long haul, both as individuals and as a congregation. Amen.
when, upon punching in your most recent appointment, your Blackberry starts smoking, then
explodes. I can relate in a big way to this at the moment! Some of us vaguely feel that if we’re not
exhausting ourselves doing the Lord’s work, there’s something we’re not doing right. In fact, I have
a framed poster in my office that more or less extols the virtues of working for the kingdom until you
drop.
Well, traditions of a Protestant work ethic notwithstanding, the scriptures actually have something to
say about this. In fact, Jesus himself has something to say about this in today’s Gospel reading from
the first chapter of Mark, and then again in Mark 6.
Let’s set the stage first for today’s reading. Jesus has chosen his first disciples, and he wastes no
time at all getting down to business.
You’ll recall that last week we had that dramatic story of the exorcism of the demon-possessed man
in the synagogue. Listen to what Mark says about what happens next: “As soon as they left the
synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. Now Simon’s
mother-in-law was in bed with a fever and they told him about her at once. He came and took her by
the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them. That evening, at
sundown, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was
gathered around the door. And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out
many demons, and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.”
So Jesus takes his first disciples and gets to work in what sounds like a pretty intense succession of
healings and exorcisms among the city folk who had flocked out to get a glimpse of this new
phenomenon. In a sentence that would be all too easy to slide right past, Mark then writes, “In the
morning while it was still very dark, Jesus got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he
prayed.”
Now let’s fast forward to Chapter 6. Much has happened in the interim. Jesus has called the rest of
the Twelve, has done intensive teaching of both the disciples and the growing multitudes, has done
more healings and exorcisms, has stilled the stormy Lake of Galilee, and even raised a girl from the
dead. Then came that great moment in which Jesus gave his disciples authority to heal and cast out
demons, and sent them out two-by-two to begin the first great, sustained mission work of the
Christian faith. They went out and accomplished enormous, miraculous things in the name of Jesus,
only to return and find that John the Baptist had been killed. It’s here that Jesus instructs them this
way, saying: “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” …
So we have two situations in which Jesus leads his followers into something completely new, which
requires an enormous expenditure of energy. Is this beginning to sound vaguely familiar? Does it
sound like anyone you know? Well, if it doesn’t, you might have been a little too focused on the view
over my left shoulder. My view has been a little different. In the three weeks or so since our move-
in, I’m seeing some pretty clear signs of fatigue, or in some cases, even burnout. Jesus shows us a
remedy for this in Mark’s Gospel, and I’d like to spend a few moments elaborating on this a little bit.
In Mark 1, after a crescendo of activity Jesus goes away to a deserted place to pray. And in Mark 6,
after both he and his disciples engage in another crescendo of activity, he prescribes a deserted
place for them to get some rest. In their book How to Beat Burnout, Frank Minirth and Paul Meier
point out three basic elements of Jesus’ prescription for burnout. They are (1) a change in location,
(2) a change in activity or responsibility, and (3) a certain amount of time.
Let’s take each in turn. I think it’s important to note first what Jesus didn’t say. He didn’t say, “Hey,
you’re doing something wrong! If you’d truly been working in the power of the Spirit, you wouldn’t be
feeling fried right now!” No, he realized that even when we’re working in God’s power, we still spend
our own energy. He also didn’t say, “Hey, you guys look tired. Recess time!” You know, “Sit down
and take five!” No, he acknowledged their exhaustion, then directed them to go to a place apart
from their work—a place where they wouldn’t be constantly confronted by needy and demanding
people. He invited them to “a deserted place.”
You see, it’s not enough simply to have a little break time; we sometimes need a little break space
as well. Where is your place of rest? Is it a campsite? A cabin? A special quiet place in the
countryside? For me, in successive living places, it’s been an old growth redwood grove, a couple
of hiking trails in Maryland, and now I’m looking at the Volcanoes trail west of Albuquerque as a
special place of retreat.
And then there’s the daily rest place. I’m delighted that, now that the church is built, I can do my
quiet times right up here in the sanctuary to begin my work day. Are you getting daily time with the
Lord in a place with no interruptions? I highly recommend it. It’s one of the more effective
inoculations against burnout. In Mark’s account of Jesus’ retreat, he emphasizes that Jesus went
there to pray—to talk with his Father in heaven, and receive deep rest and renewal. It really does
work.
The second element in Jesus’ prescription for R and R is a change in activity. Since we moved into
this beautiful building two or three people have expressed their desire and intention to step down, or
at least take a sabbatical from leading the ministries they’d been leading. After the initial dilation of
my eyes and catch in my throat, I quickly saw that this was both appropriate and needed in each
case. If I were the contemporary writer of Ecclesiastes, I’d be inclined to say, “There’s a time for
every season under heaven. A time to adjust schedules, a time to change duties. A time to reflect,
a time to re-tool.” And so on. And some folk-rock band would make a classic hit out of it. (Not.)
One of the delightfully familiar sounds at certain times of the year is the sound of the hoarse
honking of Canada geese overhead. Their serenade is fascinating enough, but have you ever
watched them in flight? They seem to be guided by the divine wisdom we’ve been talking about this
morning. They fly in a “V” formation, and periodically the goose at the head of the “V” peels away
and retreats to the rear. This is because there’s more wind resistance at the head of the “V”, since
there are no other geese in whose wind-wake to follow. It’s kind of the same principle as my little
Toyota following behind a Kenworth on I-40. It saves energy. (Although it’s probably a little safer to
follow a goose closely than a semi.) A change in activity might entail allowing someone else to take
leadership of a ministry for a while. Such a change in activity might involve a break from brain work
by doing something physical, or a break from physical work by doing something mental. It may even
involve just being a pew-sitter for a while. That’s OK.
But this brings us to the third element in the rest formula—making a change for a time. There are a
couple things one can do that may not be good for oneself or for the kingdom over the long haul.
The first of these is making a vow. I’ve heard these before. When we were in another town we were
inquiring about the possibility of some folks helping out in Sunday School, a response we heard
more than once was, “Hey, I’m done with that. I paid my dues. I did it for so long that I swore it off,
and I’ll never do that again.” It’s kind of like going 100 miles per hour and then screeching to a dead
stop and just staying there. One might be getting some rest, but this comes at a cost to the others
in the church body.
Another way that may not be best for all involved is to throw your hands up, quit your ministry, toss it
unceremoniously into the Vicar’s lap and say, “It’s your baby now!” As tempting as this may be at
times, please remember that your Vicar also is struggling with this whole balance thing, and has
limited time and energy. He can’t take on leadership of an unlimited number of ministries. So when
a lead goose peels away it doesn’t work so well if he or she goes into a smoking tailspin down and
away from the rest of the flock. That has limited utility.
Really, what this is all about is stewardship. As you know, stewardship has many aspects.
Stewardship is a matter of how we use those gifts that God has given us in this life. Having been
entrusted with a garden planet the likes of which is unknown elsewhere in the whole universe, we’re
charged to care for it “rightly and in the service of others” as the Prayers of the People says.
We’re expected to manage our own physical and financial resources in such a way that God’s
kingdom is advanced and the needy are provided for. In much the same way we’re expected to be
good stewards of our bodies—you know, those temples of the Holy Spirit—and our personal time
and energy. These, too, we are to manage in such a way that we live balanced lives designed more
to run a marathon than a sprint.
So I hope that Jesus’ own suggestions for renewal are helpful to you this morning. And I pray that
we will be ever mindful as to how we can best keep ourselves in shape for serving our Lord in the
long haul, both as individuals and as a congregation. Amen.
Jesus' Prescription for Burnout
Mark 1:29-39
Mark 1:29-39
February 8, 2009
Fr. Dan Tuton
Fr. Dan Tuton
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |