I remember reading somewhere in the works of Roland Allen, great Anglican theologian of mission, his idea of the most important thing that a missionary can do: Go on leave.
To do otherwise is, first, to distrust the Spirit, and second, to disregard the gifts of the very community in which one serves. Any work worth doing can lead to fantasies that one is irreplaceable, a deception undercut by Allen’s good sense. The dignity and value intrinsic to any human being cannot be in doubt, and the pursuit of excellence in the doing of one’s vocation is a virtue. But no one person is indispensable, a truth worth remembering.
The practice of Sabbath itself, holy leisure, reminds the believer who is God—and who is not. Human being, capable creature of God that we are, does not run the universe. We have some responsibilities for the cosmos, yes, but we are not in charge. The full stop provided by Sabbath time, interwoven into the very structure of creation in Genesis 1, should remind us of that truth about God. We can quit working, and the universe goes on—precisely because we are not God. The God-ward direction of Sabbath time complements that other crucial piece inherent to the day, the practice of holy rest, the restorative value of intentional leisure, in and of itself. Human being grows weary and needs rest, and Sabbath time is a gift from the Creator to these beloved creatures.
For years I have encouraged colleagues in ordained ministry to take substantial time away at regular intervals. I believe that the processes of disengagement from one’s community and re-engagement afterward bear fruit, both for the cleric involved and for the community. I have pushed people to make space in that time away for four purposes: sheer rest, self-care, spiritual renewal, and learning for its own sake.
So now it is time for me to heed my own advice, and I am taking two months, March and April, away from the day-to-day ministry as Bishop of the Diocese of Missouri. This is my first Sabbatical during my tenure as Bishop, and it will not be my last. Let me sketch out my plans. In early March I will head to South Texas, for two weeks of warm-weather camping, pure leisure. Later in March I will drive to Camp Allen, near Houston, for the spring meeting of the House of Bishops. (Let me say that I had considered not attending this meeting but came to realize how restorative I find this peculiar community, that I would miss not being with friends and colleagues.) I then will spend Holy Week and Easter at Sewanee, keeping the rites of the season with that community, mostly at the School of Theology. The rest of April I will devote to some pursuits of learning—and perhaps some writing.
I am grateful to the Diocese of Missouri for making it possible to be away; I know that I am eager for rest and renewal. I hope, in fact, that this time of Sabbatical will make for my deeper engagement with the Diocese of Missouri, and enhance the work we share in serving God’s mission.
+Wayne Smith
Tenth Bishop of Missouri
This article comes on my second day in the office post-sabbatical, two months spent away for purposes of rest, reflection, and study. My first purpose is to express thanks to the Diocese of Missouri, to Diocesan Council, and to Standing Committee for making this time available to me—and to the staff in my office who kept things running smoothly during my absence. I think that this time away did what it was supposed to do, and I feel ready to re-engage the work of mission and ministry that is ours together.
