christ

Sabbath rest by choice or by force

Days like today make me realize how human I am. Once again, I have found myself overcommitted and overtrained which means that I was exhausted to the point of a migraine. Some ibuprofen, a hot shower, and an unusually long nap later, and I am still feeling the after-effects of the physical and emotional drain that a migraine can cause. 

My friend and jiu-jitsu mentor came in to teach this morning and, since he was coming down specifically to see and train with me, I didn’t want to miss it. As a result, what is normally a morning of rest and spiritual renewal for me turned into a morning of work, fun work, but work nonetheless. 

This isn’t a bad thing and I’m not complaining, mind you. I love jiu-jitsu and I’m glad I got to see my friend and learn some of his new strategies and techniques, but it was the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak, and I paid the price after class. 

The older I get, the more I understand why God gave us the Sabbath rest. We only have so much physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual energy we can give to the world before we are drained. Once we are drained, if we keep going, instead of our labors making us stronger, sharper, and more useful, they make us weaker, sicker, and less effective for God and those around us. 

Each of us has a certain capacity for work, whether it be physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual, and that capacity is limited by the limited nature of our humanity. If we attempt to exceed this capacity, if we try to draw more from the well than the well has to give, we start taking from our health. Much like with finances, overdrawing from our well of health is an unsustainable way to live. 

In the past, I would have simply popped some ibuprofen, downed a cup of coffee or two, and kept going. Lacking the sense to see that my body was trying to tell me something, I have medicated my way through many a migraine over the years. While it made me relatively successful, this drive eventually led me to panic attacks and a near ruined marriage.

After several years of therapy, prayer, meditation, spiritual work, and a lot of soul searching, I have begun to see things from a different perspective than I was capable of in my younger years. The push forward is not as important as my health and longevity. And as I have gotten older and more sensitive to what God is trying to tell me, I’ve begun to see that sickness, in whatever form it takes, is my body or mind’s way of telling me to slow down, rest, and recover. 

So today, after I crashed from exhaustion and a migraine, I took a couple of ibuprofen, a hot shower, and a long nap. When I woke up, thinking about the rest of the week ahead and realizing that a decision to rest and recover now would mean that I will be more capable of doing the things that are required of me later, I rescheduled a private lesson I had set up for this afternoon and took some time for Sabbath rest. 

“The Sabbath was made for man,” as Jesus said in Mark 2:27 (NIV). It is a gift from God for us and it’s free. We need only accept it. And Sabbath rest is not only available to us on Sundays (or Saturdays depending on your belief). Sabbath rest is available to us any time we decide to set aside time for God and rest. My friend who is a pastor takes Monday as his Sabbath because, even though Sunday is a day of worship for him, it’s also a work day because he works at the church. 

Having a whole day each week for God and rest is obviously desirable. God gave it to us for us to take advantage of. But that doesn’t mean we must limit ourselves to only that day for Sabbath rest. God is happy to spend as much time with us as we are willing to spend with him, whenever and wherever we are willing and able to do so. We don’t have to wait until we crash before we rest in God, like I often do. His arms are open for us now and forever. 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

There’s truth and then there’s Gospel

The books and teachers that influenced me when I first started my spiritual journey are not the same books and teachers that speak to me now. That does not make them any less valuable, however. They are still very much a part of my story. They are part of my spiritual identity, part of my spiritual DNA. 

When I first began seeking God, enlightenment, a spiritual experience, or whatever you’d like to call it, I was attracted to anything and everything that was not Christianity. While I was raised as a Christian, sort of,* I turned my back on God and religion as a teenager. 

As a result, I found spiritual comfort in non-Christian teachings. I was particularly interested in and attracted to Buddhism and Taoism, although I also studied Hinduism, Judaism, Islam, and even Zoroastrianism. But Buddhism, especially Zen Buddhism, was where I found my spiritual home for many years. 

As I made my way, or rather was called back to, Christianity, however, many of the books and teachers whose words used to deeply move me, simply miss the spiritual mark for me now. That doesn’t mean they do not have value. Nor does it mean that they do not offer deep, powerful truths. Rather, the part of me that they once spoke to no longer exists, or has grown and changed into something or someone else. 

But these books and teachers are still part of who I am. They were the building blocks for the spiritual temple that is my life. I owe a debt of gratitude to and have immense respect for them. 

What I have found, however, is that many, if not all, of the teachings and practices that attracted me to Buddhism and its spiritual cousins exist in some shape or form in the vast and deep tradition that is Christianity. I simply was not ready to hear or see that when I first started this journey. 

Whether it is meditation, asceticism, or monasticism, Christianity has some version of it that feels as deep, true, and enriching as anything I found in these other traditions. The difference is that Christianity has God and, more specifically Jesus, guiding, informing, and leading the way through the journey. While I wasn’t ready for this in my youth, it brings my soul comfort, peace, and joy now. 

Coming to know Jesus and accepting him as my lord and savior has opened my heart and mind to so much of what I was unable and unwilling to see because of pride, prejudice, and stubbornness. It is no wonder I was such an insatiable seeker. Until I returned back to Christianity, nothing I read and no one I listened to was going to be good enough. 

I didn’t need spirituality as spirituality. Nor did I need wisdom for wisdom’s sake. What I needed was God. As my college religions professor told me when, after several semesters of studying a variety of religious traditions with him, I asked him what his personal beliefs were, “There is truth in all of these traditions, but in Christianity I have found the Gospel.” 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

*We went to church with my grandparents when we stayed at their house as kids, but my parents never really instilled in us Christian values or taught us about Christianity. Although they did start taking us to church at one point because I asked to go as a means of trying to find a solution to my feeling lost and out of place in this world. Unfortunately, it didn’t work. I still felt lost and out of place. 

Merely the hem of his garment

One of my favorite stories in the Gospels is when the woman who had been bleeding for twelve years was healed through faith by simply touching the hem of Jesus’s garment. This story exists in three of the four Gospels: Matthew 9:20-22, Mark 5:25-34, and Luke 8:43-48. In some translations, it says hem (NKJV). In others it says edge (NIV), fringe (ESV), or border (KJV). But what they all have in common is that the bleeding woman was healed by Jesus by reaching out in faith and touching only some small, distal part of Jesus’s clothing. 

And suddenly, a woman who had a flow of blood for twelve years came from behind and touched the hem of His garment. For she said to herself, “If only I may touch His garment, I shall be made well.” But Jesus turned around, and when He saw her He said, “Be of good cheer, daughter; your faith has made you well.” And the woman was made well from that hour (Matthew 9:20-22, NKJV). 

There are a couple of remarkable things about this passage to me. The first thing that strikes me is just how little it actually took for this woman to be healed by Jesus. He didn’t lay his hands on her. He didn’t bless her or pray over her. He didn’t even know who she was until the moment she touched his clothes. 

All she did was touch the hem of his garment, not even the sleeve or the collar, but simply the hem. Through this simple gesture, she was healed. This goes to show just how powerful Jesus’s healing powers were and are. He is able to heal all manner of illness and malady with even the smallest amount of connection to him. 

The other remarkable thing about this story is that it teaches us the power of faith. This woman had been bleeding for twelve years. She had no realistic reason to believe that Jesus would or could heal her. And yet, she reached out in faith and was made instantly well. 

With faith and the smallest amount of effort on our part, Jesus is able to accomplish miracles in our lives. We cannot heal ourselves but, when we find ourselves in a position wherein we are beyond human aid, if we reach out to Jesus, he will heal us. As it is written in Matthew 17:20, “If you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you (NKJV).”

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

Don’t touch the stove

A manager of mine once told me that managing people is a lot like raising children. At the time, I didn’t have any children, but he was a good, sincere man and a very important mentor for me, so I took his word for it. He explained that, while many employees would be great and should be treated accordingly, there would always be people who would test the limits of my patience and kindness. 

“Some people are going to see how far they can go before getting in trouble,” he explained. “They are like a child reaching out to touch a hot stove. At first, you say in a stern, but kind way, ‘Please don’t touch the stove. It’s hot. It will burn you.’ But they keep reaching for the stove. So now your tone changes, becoming harsher, ‘I said don’t touch the stove. It’s hot. It will burn you.’ But their hand gets closer still. Now, you are getting frustrated because your attempts to be kind are being ignored. ‘Hey!’ you exclaim, ‘I told you not to touch the stove! You’re going to get burned!’ In spite of this, they just keep reaching for it. Finally, you realize that you are wasting your breath. You have done and said everything you can to help them, but they simply will not be helped. Discouraged and annoyed, you say, ‘Fine. Touch the stove. See what happens, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.'” 

Not only was he right that some employees are just this stubborn and defiant, but he was also right that parenting is also like this from time to time. Some people simply need to learn the hard way. They need to get burned before they will believe the stove is hot. For whatever reason, they are unwilling or unable to learn from the mistakes of others. They have to touch the stove themselves. 

Unfortunately, all too often, I’m “some people.” In an attempt to guide me in the right direction and to save me from unnecessary suffering, God gives me all sorts of warning signs. Like a loving father raising a stubborn child, he tries to teach me how to live a good life, but I resist, insisting that I can do things my way. He tells me that my ways are flawed, to trust him, and that he will not lead me astray, but my pride and selfishness frequently stop me from hearing him. 

I keep pushing until he finally says, “Fine. Touch the stove. See what happens, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Inevitably, I get burned and then turn to him for help. And like a loving father, he is always there to comfort and teach me when I am willing to listen, even if sometimes he lets me feel the pain I caused myself a little longer than I would like. 

God does not save us from the consequences of our actions. We have to live with them. That is our cross to bear. He does love us enough, however, to try to warn us before we choose poorly, but we don’t always listen. So often, we exercise our free will by pushing the boundaries of his grace and breaking his heart. And yet, if we repent, if we turn back to God, we will be forgiven and welcomed home like a runaway child because he wants nothing more than for us to choose him like he has chosen us. 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox.