This past summer, I received the sad news that a beloved seminary professor had died. Bruce Mullin was a church historian and an incredible teacher. One of his lasting gifts to me personally was a prayer that he would offer in chapel at the conclusion of every service of Evensong that he was officiating–we had sung Evensong every school day.
O Lord, support us all the day long,
until the shadows lengthen,
and the evening comes,
and the busy world is hushed,
and the fever of life is over,
and our work is done.
Then in thy mercy,
grant us a safe lodging,
and a holy rest,
and peace at the last.
–Book of Common Prayer, p. 833
It was written by John Henry Newman (1808–1890) who scandalized the Church of England in the mid 1800s for being a leader in what was then called the “Tractarian Movement”—the theological and liturgical movement centered around Oxford University, that gave rise to the old High Church-Low Church designations. Newman was firmly team High Church. He further scandalized the Church of England, and the wider world of Anglicanism, when he resigned his position as Fellow of Oxford University’s Trinity College, renounced his orders, and became a Roman Catholic priest. Late in life, Newman would be elevated to cardinal and was canonized as a saint in 2019.
I am incredibly grateful for the words of this prayer and for Bruce who brought it to my attention over 20 years ago. I have ended almost every Vestry meeting with these words and frequently pray these words over the body of a beloved parishioner at their graveside. The words, and the longings that they convey have been an anchor in both my vocation as well as the “lengthening days” of my adulthood.
We all long for “peace and a holy rest” both in this life and in the life to come. Similarly, we long for meaningful, soul-swelling work. Both of these (work and rest) are fundamental to our own sense of purpose as God’s children and as followers of Jesus Christ.
On our first night back home from our family vacation and at the conclusion of a summer filled with travel, camps, work, college visits and a new-to-us car acquisition, the question at the dinner table was asked: what was your favorite part of vacation? The unanimous answer around the table wasn’t a specific thing that we did, but was more philosophical: rest and a slower pace of life–what a tchotchke in our lakeside rental house described as “Lake Time.”
We all need rest, just as much as we need to work. In fact, God commands us to do so! And too much of either can leave us feeling restless, discontent, irritable, and aimless. Times of rest and recreation are literally just that; the re-creating and re-orienting of our lives in order to be fit and proper for God’s desires and purposes.
The good news is this: God’s work never ceases so that we might be able to enjoy moments of peace, so that we might be literally inspired to continue God’s work. Quite frankly, God both needs us and doesn’t need us at the same time; the world can go on without us, but think of the wonderful additions that our highest aspirations and joys and loves can bring to others.
I pray that you have found some rest in the last few months or that you are looking forward to it, once summer vacationers are back in the swing of school calendars. I also pray that you have found meaningful work or hobbies or avocations along the same path; where your skills and interests intersect with God’s longings.
And while I recognize that I began this article on a somber note, there is also much joy and excitement around us–the paradoxes of life are like that; joys with sorrows; work with rest.
The start of St. John’s program year is right around the corner, cooling temperatures are beginning to percolate, the shadows of the day are lengthening, and opportunities for peace and contentment are at hand.
I am incredibly grateful to have had a time of summer’s leave and vacation, just as I am blessed to resume the work that we have been called to do. As I begin my 6th year at St. John’s, I cannot wait to see what joys our work will bring to us and those around us; and to share that divine peace at the end of our day. God bless you!
The Rev. Joshua D. Walters
Rector