. . . but why do
you not know how to interpret the present time (Luke 12:56).
“I
am the town clock-winder for Island Pond, Vermont.”
So
wrote Garret Keizer in his fine memoir, A
Dresser of Sycamore Trees. In his book Keizer reflects on his life as an
Episcopal lay-pastor in a rural New England town. As the church’s solo pastor
one of his duties was to climb into the steeple twice every week to wind the
clock. This involved cranking two large spools of cable – one for the face of
the clock and one for the bell that marked the hour.
Far
from resenting such a mundane task, Keizer seems to delight in the insights he
gleans from being the town’s clock-winder. One of his observations resonated
with me as a very helpful picture of what we mean when we speak of a
post-Christian world. He rescues the phrase from the academicians when he
writes
The public keeping of time has passed from
the church and possibly the municipal building to the branch bank. In most towns
of any size that is the place to look for a digital display of the right time .
. . It was logical for a church to tell people the time when one of the things
they needed to know time for was when to pray, and when church feasts and holy
days colored the calendar. Equally logical is it that a bank should tell the
hours to a populace for whom time is not liturgical but financial, who inhabit
a fiscal year broken into quarters and the maturation periods of certificates
of deposit (p. 86).
When Time Is Money
Keizer
seems to be saying that when the church steeple rang the hour it declared that
time was sacred. The digital display in front of the bank declares that time is
money.
Of
greater significance than how we tell time is the shifting locus of authority
in our world. Whether the hour is displayed at a bank or city hall or on a cell
phone, the church has lost its voice in the ordering of the day, perhaps in the
ordering of life.
I’ll
go one step further with Keizer’s insight. Not only does the church no longer
have voice in the ordering of time, the church’s organizational life now finds
itself smothered in competition for the hours that belong to its own members. A
persistent and insidious barrier to meaningful spiritual growth is the
busy-ness of life, what John Ortberg has named ‘hurry sickness.’
Hurried
people risk being shallow people. Depth, and this includes spiritual depth,
requires an investment of time, and time that’s invested is also carefully and
deliberately managed.
Earlier
today I heard the carillon bells in the steeple of the church where I serve
ring the noon hour. I love hearing that sound from my office or from within our
sanctuary. I can’t help but wonder if the hundreds of cars blistering the
asphalt on Roswell Road heard what I heard. I’m doubtful. The hearing requires
some measure of stillness.
The Holy Offering
of Time
This
is not to suggest that the only activities of the day that have spiritual
significance are activities that happen inside a church building. Rather, what
Keizer invites us to ponder is the way that faith is squeezed and choked in the
post-Christian world’s use of time.
The
question for all of us is not about how much time you spend at church – but how
the church’s message shapes what you do with time. Any and every moment of the
day can be a way of pursuing a closer walk with Jesus. This is because Jesus
cares about all of your time, not just an hour or two on Sunday.
We’ll
spend a couple of days this week thinking about intentional faith development,
what is sometimes spoken of as spiritual formation. How do you go about
creating habits and practices that cause you to become more like Jesus? One
answer to the question simply has to do with how we steward the gift of time.
So
think through your plans for this day. How might you take your schedule and
make it a holy offering unto the Lord?
Prayer:
Gracious
God, “my times are in your hand” (Ps. 31:15). And not only my times but my time
– the hours and minutes of this day that you’ve placed before me. Order my
steps, making every minute yours, lived thankfully and for your glory through
Christ our Lord. Amen. 
