Saved by the bell: the power of monastic practices to rescue us from burnout (a guest post)
Photo by Giuseppe Mondì on Unsplash
Sometimes it’s really nice to be told what to do.
Though most of us chafe at directives under ordinary circumstances, these aren’t ordinary times.
The disruption to our habits and routines has required us to make an almost infinite number of new decisions in an astonishingly short amount of time.
While there is a flush of excitement and creativity that has resulted, making decisions is draining. Exhausting, really.
That’s why willpower is often far less effective when we’re tired and worn out at the end of the day.
We literally don’t have the mental energy to make more decisions even when they’re in our best interest, like deciding not to binge eat, stream, or drink.
Emotionally and mentally, most of us are exhausted.
Since empathy and compassion are pretty much pre-requisites for the job of “clergy,” I suspect many are underestimating their level of fatigue as we take in global sorrow and grief.
The fewer decisions we have to make right now, the more likely we will be to choose wisely.
This is the role of practices: to take the activities that will nurture, strengthen, and renew us, and make them routine rather than a decision to made.
Sr. Miriam Elizabeth Bledsoe, a Backstory Preaching mentor, enjoys the monastic practices of the Episcopal Order of Saint Helena. She offers this reflection on how practices sustain her and can sustain you, as well.
The Power of Monastic Practices in a Pandemic
by Sr. Miriam Elizabeth Bledsoe, OSH
I live as a monastic sister with eleven other women in the Episcopal Order of Saint Helena. I am also a priest, preacher and pastor.
As I write this, I am in the midst of self-quarantine due to possible exposure to COVID-19. I am in a cottage by myself, while my community resides in another building. Long before I vowed my life as a sister, I was grateful to monastics for their gifts of prayer, hospitality, and silence.
As I live my days currently apart from my community, I’ve come to appreciate those and other monastic practices that are carrying me in these days of quarantine and social distancing.
The Practice of Schedule
One of those practices is the schedule.
All monastic houses keep a schedule. It’s the way of balancing work, prayer, rest and recreation.
Four times a day, our chapel bell rings and we gather for prayer. After Matins (Morning Prayer) and Holy Eucharist, comes breakfast, then a few hours of work. After Noonday Prayer there is lunch, then a little more work, then Vespers (Evening Prayer), then supper. After supper, a little recreation, then Compline (prayers for the night), followed by silence and rest. The next morning the bell rings again.
“The bell has saved me more than once from the sin of over-functioning.”
It perhaps sounds monotonous and rigid, and some days, it is.
Some days, when you’re in the middle of a project and the bell rings, it’s easy to think, “Oh I’ll just finish this bit,” only to miss the vital rhythm of prayer in the day. Other days, it is a comfort to hear the bell and to realize that what I’ve done in the time I have is enough, and that to keep going means I will not only miss the prayers, but I will deplete myself in the process.
The bell has saved me more than once from the sin of over-functioning!
Here at BsP, we often say to preachers: set your sermon prep into your schedule.
That recommendation seems even more vital in these days, when the pressure to be available virtually 24/7 has ramped into high gear. The ancient wisdom of the monastic schedule is relief from that pressure.
A few hours at work, some time in prayer, with time for recreation and rest, are a good antidote for the pressure to over-function in these days of high stress and demand.
The Practice of Silence
Within our schedule here at the convent, there is also time for silence.
We engage the Great Silence after Compline, our last communal prayers of the day, until the following morning after the celebration of the Holy Eucharist. We also observe silence one full day a week and throughout the year in occasional weeks of silence.
Silence is part of the rhythm of our life.
Silence is the opportunity to narrow our bandwidth so as to tune more heartily to that still, small voice.
Silence can provide a kind of fallowness that nourishes our heart and mind for the long nurture of the harvest.
Silence allows me to hear the breath of God in my own breathing.
Right now, news is coming at us hard and fast. I will never digest it all—and to believe I can is simply pride overwhelming good sense.
“The practice of silence reminds me that respite requires the discipline to dis-engage.”
The practice of silence reminds me that respite requires the discipline to dis-engage.
It’s the kind of fasting that I sometimes need in the middle of sermon prep. Fasting from voice, from words, from information. Silence is that fasting.
We fast in order to feast. To feast on the company of those we love, even at 6 feet of distance; to feast on the delicious and nourishing Word of God; to feast on the delight of creation.
In silence, we can sink into the Word so as to rise up preaching.
Are you craving better preaching practices?
The BsP Mentorship was created to help preachers develop a preaching practice—and way of life—that requires fewer decisions for sermon prep and prayer.
The result?
Less time spent in overwhelm. More time being fed by God. Better preaching, whole-hearted serving, and newfound joy.
If you’re—
overwhelmed by the demands of ministry
missing the excitement you felt when you first answered the call to preach
craving a sermon prep routine you can count on
desiring to be fed by your sermon prep, even as you prepare to feed others
—The Mentorship is for you.
There are seven spots left.
Applications are currently open to members of The Collectives. Applications will open to the public on June 1.