June 14, 2005
by Derek Maul

SNOWBIRD, UT – Late this spring, high in Utah's rugged Wasatch Mountains at the Snowbird Ski Resort, four distinct sounds permeated the Cliff Lodge conference rooms.

First: the gurgle of melting snow making its way in torrents down to the Great Salt Lake. Second: the distinct swoosh of snowboards and skis cutting through the remnants of hardpack on the north-facing slopes. Third: the collective sigh of several hundred Presbyterians relaxing. Fourth: the cool groove of Presbyterian jazz, an undercurrent of praise.

Bill Forbes, moderator of the planning team that engineered May's "Pastor's Sabbath," remarked on the spirit of cooperation and unity that characterized the joyful gathering of PC(USA) ministers and spouses.

His observation was no surprise to the 650-plus participants. This meeting was about the message and ministry of Jesus Christ. No polity, no procedure, no political maneuvering. There in the rare mountain air of Utah's Little Cottonwood Canyon, we all joined together to mix inspiration and restoration, and to drink deeply from the well of God's nourishing love.

The music, led by the Presbybop Jazz Quartet from Pennsylvania, was both relaxing and worshipful . "I always knew Presbyterians were cool," one minister said, snapping his fingers. "Now I know why."

Old Testament scholar and theologian Walter Brueggemann, emeritus professor at Columbia Theological Seminary, anchored the retreat by laying a well-researched textual foundation for the corporate and personal practice of Sabbath. Brueggemann highlighted an ancient Hebrew word, nephesh, that points to the essence of God's intention. Nephesh means renewal and refreshment. "Recover your nephesh," he admonished, "and be replenished to full, glad creatureliness."

The fact is – and all of us already knew this in some deep, seldom disturbed place – Presbyterian pastors need to live out God's directive for renewal and restoration for two reasons. First: God placed the natural rhythm of keeping Sabbath into the original creation story; God commanded it, and went on to reiterate the directive many times throughout the Biblical narrative. Second (and maybe more at the root of why more church leaders need to practice this particular spiritual discipline): the understanding that pastors simply cannot do ministry in and through their own power.

The moment any of us believes he or she has the personal resources to shepherd without surrendering everything we are to God's guidance and control, then we have taken hope, strength, possibility, and providence out of the equation. Simply put, that approach is neither pastoral nor is it being a pastor.

While Brueggemann keynoted each morning, some of North America's most celebrated preachers added inspiration and unbounded enthusiasm after dinner. James Forbes (Riverside Church, New York City), Barbara Brown Taylor (Episcopal priest and professor of religion and philosophy at Piedmont College, Georgia), and then Tony Campolo (acclaimed speaker, author and urban-ministry expert) shared messages born out of their personal commitments to Sabbath.

As a participant, one profound personal revelation occurred while listening to James Forbes read from the Bible. Forbes had not memorized the text; there were no practiced hand gestures, no theatrical voice inflections, no dramatics; he simply spoke the passage. Instead of staging, the power and the truth of the reading came from the preacher's personal devotional life and his obviously close walk with God. James Forbes' relationship with Jesus was revealed in his reading of the scripture.

Throughout the weekend, pastors of hundreds of churches, large and small, all connected with the same notion – the fundamental truth that the primary responsibility of leaders is to walk hand-in-hand with God and to engage the renewing power of the Holy Spirit through the regular and deliberate practice of Sabbath in their personal lives.

On Monday morning, Brueggemann concluded his remarks by reminding us, "It takes great intentionality to stay grounded in the narrative of Sabbath," large fluffy flakes of wet snow symbolically covered the conference center with a blanket of grace.

If the inspirational worship services and the dynamic teaching sessions provided the framework, then it was the unstructured contact between small groups of individuals where the ministry of grace found its natural expression.

Beyond the cadences of jazz, the undergirding of theology, and the mountain tops of timely preaching, ministers and their spouses – essentially indistinguishable – connected in informal circles of care.

One evening, my wife Rebekah and I carried our food from the overcrowded ballroom and escaped to the lobby. Before we knew it, we were joined by couples from Oregon, Arizona, and Alabama. The wait staff graciously brought coffee and dessert as we shared God's love around a priceless Persian rug.

One pastor had experienced a heart attack followed by complications that kept him away from the pulpit a full year. One clergy couple are witnessing renewal in a church just a fraction of its former size. A head of staff shared the joy of ministering in a congregation enthusiastically engaging the challenge of living as faithful disciples sharing Christ in the world.

The watchword throughout the retreat was restoration and good news. Warren Cooper, a fixture in Philadelphia's jazz clubs, introduced one song by telling the story of how he finally agreed to patrons' demands that he sing a blues number one Saturday night. "Let me tell you," he improvised in a classic blues riff, "why I never sing the blues. I go to church on Sunday morning and I hear all about the good news."

A common theme had emerged from all the shared stories. Personal renewal, the joy of salvation, a replenished spirit overflowing with God – these are the most critical elements pastors need to embrace, if the church is to offer our world an alternative to the soul-destroying agenda of production and consumption that defines life for too many – Presbyterian pastors included.

Re-imagining our lives in terms of Sabbath, renewal and rest; reinvesting in our primary relationships; following the example and the command of Jesus himself:

"Peace I leave with you. My peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." (John 14:27)

Presbyterian News Service
Derek Maul is a pastor's spouse from Brandon, Florida.