June 10, 2005
by Rev. Richard Hinkle
Terrace View Presbyterian Church, Mountlake Terrace, WA

SNOWBIRD, UT – COOL. The word aptly describes my mood as I arrived at the Snowbird Resort in Utah for the National Pastors Retreat.

COOL. The temperature was in the upper 50s; we were at 8,000 feet. It had been unseasonably hot (in the 90s) when I'd left Seattle, so it was refreshing and invigorating to step out of the airport shuttle and breathe in the brisk mountain air.

COOL. The event opened with a jazz vespers service featuring the hip stylings of Bill Carter and the Presbybop Quartet and the smooth vocals of Warren Cooper. It was a splendid way to begin to put the cares of parish ministry aside and "come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest awhile." (Mark 6: 30-32)

COOL. It was great to be with several hundred other Presbyterian pastors, to have a chance to connect with old friends and make new ones. I was able to spend some time with the pastor of a church I served as a seminary intern almost 15 years ago. I enjoyed extended conversations with a long-lost colleague who lived just down the road (20 miles) from a church I once served in Tecumseh, Nebraska.

Over the years I have attended a good number of continuing-education events, workshops, conferences and the like. Sometimes they have turned out to be as worthwhile, and as pleasant, as advertised. Sometimes I've wished I could get a refund.

The National Pastors Retreat exceeded my expectations.

I'd had invitations to several events taking place this spring and summer, and had chosen the pastors' retreat because of its lineup of outstanding speakers (Walter Brueggemann, James Forbes, Tony Campolo and Barbara Brown Taylor) and because organizers promised to set aside large blocks of time for personal reflection, recreation and refreshment – Sabbath time.

Sabbath, in fact, was one of the subjects taken up by Taylor, who posed an intriguing question:

"Who am I, when I'm not working?"

To most of the people in the congregation I serve, my identity is clearly "pastor." Although I am many other things as well – husband, father, friend, baseball coach – I am always "Pastor Rich."

And that's how I think of myself. My identity is largely invested in my role as pastor. So, for me, Taylor's question raised an issue of personhood: Can I step out of that role when I take my Sabbath?

Mulling over that question throughout the conference, I discovered that my ability to set aside my self-identity as a pastor was directly related to my capacity for relaxing and simply enjoying the pleasures of God's creation.

As I became aware of this distinction between role and self, the air actually seemed clearer, the mountains higher. And my conversations with colleagues moved beyond "shop talk" to something deeper and more meaningful.

I came to understand what Taylor had meant when she'd said: "In those moments when I can let go of my own control and trust and rest in God ... I truly discover just how important I am to God."

Presbyterian News Service