Spiritual Discipline: Unplug
Mark 6:30-34
30 The apostles gathered around Jesus and told him all that they had done and taught. 31 He said to them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. 32 And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. 33 Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. 34 As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd, and he began to teach them many things.
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This morning is our last Sunday in our Lenten series on Spiritual disciplines. Our focus today is on being “unplugged”. Now, I know I’m stating the obvious, but that’s not something Jesus ever talked about. Though I suspect if he had an iPhone, or his disciples were making TikTok videos all the time, he probably would have.
What he did talk about was the need for rest. Not only did Jesus take time to go out to deserted, quiet places for prayer and rest, he told his disciples to do the same. “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” Unplug from all the worries and demands and distractions. Because Jesus knew that once they started serving and teaching, they would be as beset as Jesus was by the crowds thronging around them.
So they went away by themselves to get a break.
But it didn’t last long, did it? No sooner had they gotten in the boat, than the crowd went on foot to the place the disciples were headed, even beating them there. It’s like paparazzi who will not leave the super-star alone. Jesus was so moved, he had everybody sit in this big grassy space so he could teach them. And when it was getting late and the crowd got hungry, he told the disciples to scrounge together whatever people had, and made a miracle out of it – the feeding of the 5,000.
How do you ever rest when your work is never, ever done? Is there ever rest for the weary?
In our Bible Zoom group this week, we focused on the end of the creation story in the book of Genesis, where God creates the Sabbath day. I’ve read that passage 1,000 times, but I saw something in it this time I’d never seen before. I love how God’s Word keeps on doing that! The way I spotted it was by writing the verses down in my journal. I hand-wrote them in:
2 Thus the heavens and the earth were finished and all their multitude. 2 On the sixth day God finished the work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all the work that he had done. 3 So God blessed the seventh day and hallowed it, because on it God rested from all the work that he had done in creation.
What I noticed was the word “finished.” These three little verses use that word twice:
The heavens and earth were finished.
God finished the work that he had done.
And even that word “done.” God rested from all the work that he had done.
And I thought to myself, I wonder what it feels like to be done! I will never finish my work. There are always 1,000 more things to do. People I wish I had time to call and check in on. Emails to respond to. Notes to write. Files to clean out and sort. Worship planning to think about. Articles to read. Never mind books! When was the last time I actually finished reading a book? And at home? The dust-balls and dog-hair are building up again? Yikes!
I wonder what “finished” feels like…
I wonder if I will ever be “done”…
Do I have to wait to rest until I’m done? Because that will never, ever happen. At least, not until I am dead and buried in my grave.
But that’s the beauty of Sabbath, isn’t it? That’s the rest God is telling us to take. To observe the Sabbath and keep it holy, whether we’re ‘finished’ or ‘done’ or not.
Because, my friends, we need rest.
Even if the only rest we get is sitting in the boat like the disciples, before the crowds come again. We all need to rest, to let our hearts and minds and spirits and bodies settle down, at least for a while. How else will we ever be open to God’s beauty and presence and power? Rest is the antidote that puts everything else in perspective.
Now, might I point out that one of the biggest differences between us and the disciples is that when they got away, they didn’t have their phones in their pockets with notifications going off every three seconds. Can you imagine? No texts, no emails, no Instagram. When they got away from it all, they got away. Jesus in the desert for forty days didn’t include a TV, Netflix, or stupid cat videos.
Quiet meant, well, quiet.
What if we could do that, too?
What might happen if we intentionally unplugged?
In the reading for today’s spiritual practice, they talk about something I had never heard of: “National Day of Unplugging”. They describe it as “an annual Sabbath day from technology, to ‘elevate human connection over digital engagement.’” It’s more than “pulling the cord on electronics”; it’s encouragement to
o Connect with loved ones, Get outside, Light candles, Find silence, and Give back.
It sounds pretty cool, if you ask me.
But I’ll be honest, it sounds really, really hard.
I mean, it is not lost on me that many of you are worshiping online. And that I wrote these words on my laptop. And that I carry my phone with me even into the sanctuary, though I could easily leave it in my office.
As I was writing this sermon I started wondering why we even call it a “phone.” It’s everything. I started thinking about all the things I do on this thing, and it was quite a list.
o It’s a calendar.
o It’s where I look up scripture.
o It’s where I listen to hymns when we’re planning worship.
o It’s where I read and listen to the news.
o It’s where I do puzzles.
o It’s where I find coupons.
o It’s where I pay bills.
o It’s where I shop.
o It’s my personal photo album.
o It’s my flashlight.
o It’s where I read newsletters.
o It’s my grocery list.
o It’s my cookbook.
o It’s my camera.
o It’s how I write to people, and they write to me.
o It’s how I listen to music.
o It’s how I practice yoga.
And yeah, it’s my phone.
How do we unplug from something we’re as tethered to as that?
Now, I understand full well not everyone uses this device the same way – and if you don’t, bless you! You probably pay attention to the world a lot more than the rest of us. But are there other things that are ‘on’ all the time? Like is the TV playing in the background as noise, or as your constant companion? Are you ever surrounded by silence? What happens then?
What if a gadget-free time were part of what Sabbath was for you?
The reality is, for a lot of people, things bubble up in the silence that you don’t really want to see. Like anxiety…. Or memories… or loneliness. Even the ancient monastics had to deal with these things. Sabbath sounds delicious, but what happens if it’s just, well, empty? What if you’re just bored? What if we discover things about ourselves we don’t really want to see?
See, there’s a reason we have all these distractions. Sometimes there are things we don’t really want to pay attention to. But these are the very things we need to offer to God, in prayer, for help, in silence.
“Unplugging” isn’t easy for a lot of us. It’s hard. It may be the hardest discipline of all.
But it can also be really, really healing….
… I remember the days before I was so plugged in…
I remember those days. I remember…
o I remember lying on the grass in the field behind my house, watching the clouds roll by, and the leaves flickering over me.
o I remember sitting on the beach on vacation, watching the waves roll in and out, and the sun go down over the water.
o I remember playing in the rain, splashing in puddles, where all you could hear was the far-off thunder.
I remember those days… they were delicious… and in those moments, it felt like there wasn’t a worry in the world…
Now, I don’t mean to harp about ‘the good old days’ – it’s just a way of saying, it’s not impossible. And it can be really, really healing.
Years ago I read about a study of the brain, and how watching random movements can calm our senses – like watching a flickering candle, or a fire in the fireplace, or waves rolling onto the shore, or leaves moving in the wind. What they all had in common is that there wasn’t a predictable, repetitive pattern – just thousands upon thousands of little, tiny movements that caught our eyes’ attention. It’s incredibly soothing. And these beautiful little movements came from things completely out of our control. Simply watching them soothes our senses. Isn’t that amazing?
What if that were a little piece of Sabbath?
Perhaps we begin by paying attention to the world around us. To nature. To beauty. To loveliness. Can we set our phones down long enough to do that? I mean, and not use them to take a selfie?
It’s different than being glued to our screens. So different than being plugged in, all the time.
So here’s my invitation for this week. Just practice being unplugged for whatever feels like a stretch for you. Maybe it means turning your television off for a few hours, or even a whole day. Maybe it means leaving your phone off for an hour or two - or leaving it at home when you go out to dinner with family or friends. Or – heaven help you – maybe it means turning it off for a whole day. Though you might want to let your family know so they don’t panic.
And then just pay attention to what bubbles up, and what you see, and what feels delicious, or soothing, or free. And if there are hard things that bubble up, or you’re going through withdrawal, or don’t know what to do with yourself, well, just notice that, too.
Let me leave you with a poem that invites us into this kind of Sabbath rest.
The Summer Day by Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean —
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down —
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
