Daughter
It seems to me that Christians, even more than anyone else,
ought to be deeply grounded, living a courageous rhythm of
rest, prayer, service, and work. That rhythm is biblical, and
it’s one that Jesus himself modeled. It seems to me that
Christians ought to be free in meaningful and radical ways
to bow out of the culture’s insistence on proving and
competing. Again, like Jesus. It seems to me that Christians
ought to care more deeply about their souls than their bank
accounts and pants sizes. But I am a Christian, and I am
guilty of all these.
My faith has not failed me, but I think maybe I have
failed it. Our beautiful historic faith tradition is built on
feasts and holidays, Sabbath and evening prayers—a
rhythmic, beautiful life with God. And many of us, myself
certainly included, have stomped on the accelerator of our
own lives and obliterated all evidence of that lovely path
laid out for us. But the pattern remains if you squint—if
you’re willing to be creative, if you’re fed up enough with
the noise and speed of the alternative.
I believe that certain strains of our faith have led us to
this spot—they shouldn’t have, of course, but this is what
humans do sometimes. Christians have made too much out