Hurry: the great enemy of spiritual life
Last week I had lunch with my mentor John. Okay, confession: heâs not actually my mentor; heâs way out of my league, but we regularly have lunch and I ask a barrage of questions about life, notepad open. John is the kind of person you meet and immediately think, I want to be like that when I grow up. Heâs blisteringly smart but moreâwise. Yet he never comes off remotely pretentious or stuck up. Instead, heâs joyful, easygoing, comfortable in his own skin, a raging success (but not in that annoying celebrity way), kind, curious, present to you and the moment ⌠Basically, heâs a lot like how I imagine Jesus.1
John (last name Ortberg) happens to be a pastor and writer in California who was mentored by another hero of mine, Dallas Willard. If you donât know that name, youâre welcome.2 Willard was a philosopher at the University of Southern California but is best known outside academia as a teacher of the way of Jesus. More than any teacher outside the library of Scripture, his writings have shaped the way I followâor as he would say, apprentice underâJesus.3 All that to say, John was a mentee of Willard for over twenty years, until Willardâs death in 2013.
I never got the chance to meet Willard, so the first time John and I sat down in Menlo Park, I immediately started pumping him for stories. We hit gold.
Hereâs one I just canât stop thinking about:
John calls up Dallas to ask for advice. Itâs the late â90s, and at the time John was working at Willow Creek Community Church in Chicago, one of the most influential churches in the world. John himself is a well-known teacher and best-selling authorâthe kind of guy you figure pretty much has apprenticeship to Jesus down. But behind the scenes he felt like he was getting sucked into the vortex of megachurch insanity.
I could relate.
So he calls up Willard and asks, âWhat do I need to do to become the me I want to be?â4
Thereâs a long silence on the other end of the line âŚ
According to John, âWith Willard thereâs always a long silence on the other end of the line.â
Then: âYou must ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life.â
Can we just hit stop for a minute and agree, thatâs brilliant?
Thanks âŚ
John then scribbles that line down in his journalâsadly this was before Twitter; otherwise that would have broken the internet. Then he asks, âOkay, what else?â
Another long silence âŚ
Willard: âThere is nothing else. Hurry is the great enemy of spiritual life in our day. You must ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life.â
End of story.5
When I first heard that, I felt a deep resonance with reality. Hurry is the root problem underneath so many of the symptoms of toxicity in our world.
And yet Willardâs reply is not what I would expect. I live in one of the most secular, progressive cities in America, but if you were to ask me, What is the great challenge to your spiritual life in Portland? Iâm not sure what Iâd say.
Most likely Iâd say itâs modernity or postmodernity or liberal theology or the popularization of the prosperity gospel or the redefinition of sexuality and marriage or the erasure of gender or internet porn or the millions of questions people have about violence in the Old Testament or the fall of celebrity pastors or Donald Trump. I donât know.
How would you answer that question?
I bet very few of us would default to âhurryâ as our answer.
But read the Bible: Satan doesnât show up as a demon with a pitchfork and gravelly smoker voice or as Will Ferrell with an electric guitar and fire on Saturday Night Live. Heâs far more intelligent than we give him credit for. Today, youâre far more likely to run into the enemy in the form of an alert on your phone while youâre reading your Bible or a multiday Netflix binge or a full-on dopamine addiction to Instagram or a Saturday morning at the office or another soccer game on a Sunday or commitment after commitment after commitment in a life of speed.
Corrie ten Boom once said that if the devil canât make you sin, heâll make you busy. Thereâs truth in that. Both sin and busyness have the exact same effectâthey cut off your connection to God, to other people, and even to your own soul.
The famous psychologist Carl Jung had this little saying:
Jung, by the way, was the psychologist who developed the framework of the introvert and extrovert personality types and whose work later became the basis for the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator test. (INTJ, anybody?) Suffice to say: he knew what he was talking about.
Recently I was running the vision of our church by my therapist, who is this Jesus-loving, ubersmart PhD. Our dream was to re-architect our communities around apprenticeship to Jesus. (That feels so odd to write because what else would we be doing as a church?) He loved it but kept saying the same thing: âThe number one problem you will face is time. People are just too busy to live emotionally healthy and spiritually rich and vibrant lives.â
What do people normally answer when you ask the customary, âHow are you?â
âOh, goodâjust busy.â
Pay attention and youâll find this answer everywhereâacross ethnicity, gender, stage of life, even class. College students are busy. Young parents are busy. Empty nesters living on a golf course are busy. CEOs are busy; so are baristas and part-time nannies. Americans are busy, Kiwis are busy, Germans are busyâweâre all busy.
Granted, there is a healthy kind of busyness where your life is full with things that matter, not wasted on empty leisure or trivial pursuits. By that definition Jesus himself was busy. The problem isnât when you have a lot to do; itâs when you have too much to do and the only way to keep the quota up is to hurry.
That kind of busy is what has us all reeling.
Michael Zigarelli from the Charleston Southern University School of Business conducted the Obstacles to Growth Survey of over twenty thousand Christians across the globe and identified busyness as a major distraction from spiritual life. Listen carefully to his hypothesis:
And pastors, by the way, are the worst. He rated busyness in my profession right up there with lawyers and doctors.
I mean, not me. Other pastors âŚ
As the Finnish proverb so eloquently quips, âGod did not create hurry.â
This new speed of life isnât Christian; itâs anti-Christ. Think about it: What has the highest value in Christâs kingdom economy? Easy: love. Jesus made that crystal clear. He said the greatest command in all of the Torah was to âlove the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul ⌠and with all your strength,â followed only by, âlove your neighbor as yourself.â7 But love is painfully time consuming. All parents know this, as do all lovers and most long-term friends.
Hurry and love are incompatible. All my worst moments as a father, a husband, and a pastor, even as a human being, are when Iâm in a hurryâlate for an appointment, behind on my unrealistic to-do list, trying to cram too much into my day. I ooze anger, tension, a critical naggingâthe antitheses of love. If you donât believe me, next time youâre trying to get your type B wife and three young, easily distracted children out of the house and youâre running late (a subject on which I have a wealth of experience), just pay attention to how you relate to them. Does it look and feel like love? Or is it far more in the vein of agitation, anger, a biting comment, a rough glare? Hurry and love are oil and water: they simply do not mix.
Hence, in the apostle Paulâs definition of love, the first descriptor is âpatient.â8
Thereâs a reason people talk about âwalkingâ with God, not ârunningâ with God. Itâs because God is love.
In his book Three Mile an Hour God, the late Japanese theologian Kosuke Koyama put this language around it:
In our culture slow is a pejorative. When somebody has a low IQ, we dub him or her slow. When the service at a restaurant is lousy, we call it slow. When a movie is boring, again, we complain that itâs slow. Case in point, Merriam-Webster: âmentally dull: stupid: naturally inert or sluggish: lacking in readiness, promptness, or willingness.â10
The message is clear: slow is bad; fast is good.
But in the upside-down kingdom, our value system is turned on its head: hurry is of the devil; slow is of Jesus, because Jesus is what love looks like in flesh and blood.
The same is true for joy and peaceâtwo of the other core realities of the kingdom. Love, joy, and peace are the triumvirate at the heart of Jesusâs kingdom vision. All three are more than just emotions; they are overall conditions of the heart. They arenât just pleasant feelings; they are the kinds of people we become through our apprenticeship to Jesus, who embodies all three ad infinitum.
And all three are incompatible with hurry.
Think of joy. All the spiritual masters from inside and outside the Jesus tradition agree on this one (as do secular psychologists, mindfulness experts, etc.): if thereâs a secret to happiness, itâs simpleâpresence to the moment. The more present we are to the now, the more joy we tap into.
And peace? Need I even make a case? Think of when youâre in a hurry for your next event, running behind: Do you feel the deep shalom of God in your soul? A grounded, present sense of calm and well-being?
To restate: love, joy, and peace are at the heart o...