A Pattern of Return

FROM THE RECTOR

Early in January, I saw a commercial for a gym that advertised itself as a “judgment free” place. I also saw several social media posts that encouraged individuals who regularly workout to be gracious and supportive of newcomers who were not as familiar with the equipment. Other less positive posts joked that gym regulars need not worry because by February the lines at the cardio equipment would be back to normal.

The start of a new year is a great time to take stock of one’s life and commit to healthier practices like eating well, cutting back on alcohol, and embracing an exercise routine, but so many of us fail before we even really get started. We enshrine those intentions in the form of New Year’s resolutions—language that implies unwavering commitment—but, whether we promise ourselves that we will lose ten pounds or buy an expensive piece of exercise equipment we cannot afford not to use, the magnitude of our commitment means little if it is unsustainable.

While crash diets and boot camps are more likely to produce short-term benefits, small changes that we can embrace for a lifetime add up in far more significant ways. Because of that, I prefer to think of the new year as an opportunity to examine my life and return to those beneficial practices that have helped me through the years instead of a time to make well-intentioned but outlandish commitments. I may need to lose some weight, but, rather than simply promising myself that I will shed the pounds, recommitting to those mundane forms of daily exercise and moderate eating is far more likely to produce a lasting result than a dream-worthy attempt at becoming a different person.

There is a theology of grace at work here. New Year’s resolutions are something to keep, but a rule of life is something to return to. When we establish for ourselves a goal that presents a make-or-break benchmark, we define success in terms of the outcome and not the process. When those goals stretch us beyond what we can achieve or sustain, we set ourselves up for disappointment. If we identify a pattern of practices that support a healthy, balanced life and that make a reasonable guide for our daily living, we invite ourselves to experience the grace of a rule of life that, instead of communicating our failures, gently beckons us to return when we have wandered astray.

Think of the parables of the prodigal son, the lost sheep, or the unforgiving servant. Jesus shows us that God is merciful and forgiving. He teaches us that God would rather celebrate our return than condemn our failures. He commands us to forgive as we have been forgiven, and that includes forgiving ourselves. How might we build that truth into our way of life and adopt practices that promote a “judgment free” identity without neglecting God’s invitation to pursue a whole, healthy, and fruitful life?

Whenever I meet with someone who is interested in establishing a rule of life, I like to remind them that their life already has a rule—a pattern that gently governs how they approach each day. Rather than trying to adopt overnight a rigorous rule that resembles monastic life, begin with the pattern you already have and ask yourself what one or two beneficial practices you might commit to as a new habit.

If you remember enjoying going to church in the past but have not made that a weekly commitment, name that as a priority and try it out for a few months. If you miss a week, do not take it as a sign of failure but a grace-filled reminder to try again next Sunday. You can try writing in a journal or saying the Lord’s Prayer each day. You can try going for a walk each evening or turning off screens at nine o’clock each night. Whatever you add to your rule, be gracious with yourself. If you try something for a month or two and find that it is still a struggle, ask yourself whether that is a sign that you should look for a different practice or try a different approach.

Finally, do not forget that a rule of life is almost always something that we follow in community. Very few of us are called to religious life—to moving into a monastic community—but we are part of a congregation and a wider community of faith from which we can pull support and strength. Reach out to your clergy or to a spiritual director and ask them to join you on your journey. Women in our congregation can consider the Daughters of the King, which is a religious order that shares a particular rule of life. Think of a Bible study or centering prayer group or running club as its own mini-community that is bound by a particular practice of study, prayer, or action. Wherever you find spiritual companionship, make that a part of your rule of life.

You are God’s beloved, made in the divine image and called into a life of wholeness and meaning. What will help you remember that truth? Who will remind you that you are loved like that? How will you explore the depths of that love? No matter what, there is nothing you can do to change the truth of your belovedness, but there are many ways that you can return to it. How will you find that way back to God this year?

Yours Faithfully,

Evan D. Garner