Radical Rest as Resistance: A Chapel Reflection
Then the word of GOD came to him, saying, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” He answered, “I have been very zealous for GOD, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.”
They said, “Go out and stand on the mountain before GOD, for GOD, is about to pass by.”
Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before GOD, but GOD was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but GOD was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but GOD was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence.
When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.
1 Kings 19: 9-13
Before this past year, I had never been a big napper. Perhaps it was the addition of a baby, the transition of finishing seminary, or the slowing energy of entering my 30’s—but something in me has changed. Suddenly there are few things better than a good nap. To cuddle up with a nice blanket, a fan blowing a gentle breeze (or if you can be outside, a real breeze!) is a kind of relaxation that seems more necessary than luxury as of late. In 2016, a like-minded soul named Tricia Hersey, founded The Nap Ministry in Atlanta. Calling herself a “Nap Bishop,” she hosts open events where people are invited to join in a group meditation followed by an hour of napping and time to debrief. While this may sound like a nice chance to rest up, Hersey has built her ministry on the radical idea of rest as resistance. For Hersey, the cultural trauma inflicted on black bodies in the United States and her scholarship in black liberation theology provided a new lens for the idea of rest. She spoke to Atlanta Magazine, saying, “It was this whole examination of labor in the South, and how bodies are commodified, and how capitalism and white supremacy help that.” For Hersey, making space for people, in particular, woman of color, to rest serves as a way to run a counter narrative to a society that values people based on how much they’re able to contribute to the dominant society. She says, “We’re pushing back against these systems telling us we should feel guilty for laying down and taking a nap.”
How many of us have heard or felt these messages? That we aren’t doing enough. That we haven’t completed enough of our to-dos. That if we spend time doing “nothing” we aren’t doing “anything worthwhile.” We download the latest productivity app. We practice multitasking techniques. According to a recent poll, only 28% of employees in the United States plan to use all their vacation days in 2019. The world is screaming out to us with deafening efficacy to do more. But it is not in the cacophony of sound that God shows up.
Elijah certainly must have felt the pressure to be successful. He faced an empire that sought to kill him in response to his prophetic acts. Yet in fleeing for his life, he wasn’t all that focused on survival. Instead he was consumed by the guilt of not having lived up to his prophetic call. He was so caught up in the feeling of not being enough that he begged for death. In its place comes an angel who cares about his survival and gives him food and water, nudging him along to Mount Horeb where the angel says God will soon pass by. Here the biblical narrator gives us a scene that defies our expectations. We think that surely God must be upset with Elijah and is on their way to scold the prophet and get him back on track. Surely, a rock-splitting wind conveys how God feels. But that is not where Elijah finds God. Nor in earthquake. Nor in a fire. It is in silence where God shows up. Elijah, who was consumed by the need to “do” and felt so exhausted, fearful, and alone, was met by a God who knew that he needed rest. And in that moment of rest and silence is where Elijah is able to finally free himself from the concerns of the empire and re-center himself on God.
This kind of rest, like the naps of the Nap Ministry, is radically different from the way of our world. But it is everywhere in God’s description of how the world ought to be. Our scripture is blanketed in references to Sabbath. We are told over and over about the importance of these days of rest. And in case we want to make excuses for ourselves, we have to be confronted with the fact that God rests. How can we believe that rest is somehow a characteristic of bad behavior when God embraces it for God’s self? Rest is a part of how God has formed our lives, our communities, our world.
But lest you think I am advocating for total and utter sloth, it is important to recognize that sabbath, radical rest, is a part of how we live our lives. We spend the rest of our time doing God’s work for justice-like Elijah we speak out against empire, and we make space for all of us who are carrying the burdens of oppression to lay them down. And we have to make space for ourselves as well. It is so easy to become wrapped up in the weight of injustice. We may feel that we alone are able to make a difference in a particular moment, or in the very least if we aren’t helping then we aren’t doing our part. While this may be partly true, we risk forming a sense of pride that doesn’t just lead us to burn-out that renders us useless to God’s call, but we also risk losing God’s voice. Like Elijah we will feel alone, feel like we are not doing enough, hear the voices of everyone but God. In the silence, in sabbath, in naps: we open ourselves to hear the still, small voice that has been speaking to us all along. We make a door for God to remind us of how we should be. And if God’s conversation with Elijah is any indication, God will not only show up, but God will tell us how to move forward and will tell us where to find the companions we need along the way so that the work of justice may continue even when we rest. And in the face of a society that tells us we are not enough, or we are commodities to serve a system, God will do the work of justice especially in our rest. May it be so.
This sermon was delivered during a chapel service at the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) Center focused on Radical Rest as Resistance.