I had this moment in the middle of the pandemic’s height, one that I heard from many of my friends and family, where I realized that this virus had forced me to slow down, to stop doing some things, and gave me time enough to attend to my most precious relationships and my own wellbeing. My wife and I were sitting in my office one night reflecting on this and I remember saying to each other, “Let’s keep this going when COVID is over”.
Three months into 2023, and while folks are still getting sick, the forced slowness of the pandemic lockdowns is over and I am back to a common refrain, “I don’t have time”.
In the West, we live amid a culture that sees time as a scarce resource that must be spent, where we shove as much as we can into every minute. We time block, and hustle, and squeeze every last moment in an effort to be PRODUCTIVE. Winning this game requires you to do more with less.
This was the hyperactivity and the whir of life that my wife and I were grateful to have paused at the height of the pandemic. This gratitude was borne of the ability and privilege to stay home, to slow down – a privilege not afforded many of our neighbors. But in that pause, I felt like I had a sense of pace and time and attention that felt sustainable and life-giving. Now, I’m back to consuming minutes faster than they appear.
The season of Lent could not come at a more necessary and needed time for me. These 40 days of spiritual discipline, penitence, and slowness are a rebuttal to the never-ending race of modern American culture. This season of walking alongside Jesus to the cross, confronts us with the question that Jesus asks Peter after his resurrection, “Do you love me?”.
Our attention and our presence are gifts of love owed to God and neighbor, and in the unnecessary busyness we refuse to share them. But in Lent, I am invited to create the spaciousness and hospitality of spirit that pays attention to where God is at work in my life and the life of my community. In Lent, I am invited to bring my neighbor and myself before the throne of God in the practice of prayer and reflection. I am invited to refrain from spending my time and money so that I may more graciously give them to my neighbor.
John McKnight and Peter Block, in their book The Abundant Community, write
“To be not in a hurry is a quality of community life. In systems, when we are interrupted, we say, ‘I’ll get back to you.’ In community, if asked whether we are busy, the answer is, ‘Come on in.’ Our being together is the priority, the point.”
Lent then, is a practice of deep community life, a season of building the kind of communal muscle memory necessary to attend to God and the neighbor as we have been freed to do. St Benedict instructed his monks to practice a daily Lent, knowing that the fullness of this life of Christian community bore the characteristics and practices of slowness, silence, prayer, and bearing one another’s burdens. We too are given this season to remind ourselves that our time and attention are precious, and that they are gifts we offer to one another and to God.
I will be reflecting throughout these 40 days on what God is calling me to stop doing – not just for 40 days, but for good. What am I being called to set down so that I can pay attention to what God is up to in my neighborhood and my community? What am I being called to let go of so that I can take hold of depth, intimacy, and community building? What can I say no to that will create the kind of spaciousness and openness to notice the small miracles happening all around me?
I’m anxious to find out.
McKnight, John; Block, Peter. The Abundant Community (p. 93). Berrett-Koehler Publishers. Kindle Edition.
Photo by Haley Lawrence on Unsplash
p.s. You can also find my Lenten Devotional – Rebuilding Ancient Ruins here. Hopefully it can provide some helpful reflection during this season of slowing down.
