"No Pause Buttons"

I’m a sucker for a run of the mill, average Adam Sandler movie. To be clear, I love Adam Sandler and some of his movies have made me fall out of my seat laughing. But I think that there are some movies that fall into the “cute family lesson” category more than hard hitting comedy. One movie that exemplifies this is “Click”. It’s not a complicated plot. Adam Sandler’s character doesn’t appreciate the life and family that he has and constantly wishes that he could fast forward through the tedious parts of life to get to his priorities. He finds a universal remote control that allows him to control his life like never before. The lesson he learns is that life is about being present, not skipping ahead. 

I think there’s another lesson to be had. Yes, there are times I wish I could fast forward through life, (see anytime I’m at the DMV or driving on I-75). But the opposite is also true. There are times I desperately want to pause so that I can savor them. I’m thinking of all the times I wished for my kids to get out of that toddler phase and grow up only to find that I would give anything for one last wrestling match where I didn’t fear for my life from a 190lb 18 year old who doesn’t know his own strength. I remember beautiful sunsets in Spain, beaches, in the Dominican Republic, and warm fires in my backyard. It’s tempting to want a pause button. But pause buttons don’t exist. 

What I want us to reflect on today is that every moment of our lives involves picking up one thing and putting another down. Our hands, our hearts, our minds, our souls, can only hold so much. Embracing new things does often mean letting old things go. Even the act of making new friends comes with the reality that we can’t have the same level of relationship with every person we know. Some will hopefully be close friends and confidantes. Some will be work friends, gym friends, lunch friends, friends we see at conventions or at kids recitals, and just plain acquaintances. 

"The danger is believing that we never have to let anything go, never have to say goodbye. A good example of this is how we plan our times of rest."

The danger is believing that we never have to let anything go, never have to say goodbye. A good example of this is how we plan our times of rest. Choosing to take that vacation, retreat, or day off means choosing that we will not be working or doing some other task. But I will be the first to raise my hand and confess that I try to do both. Fridays are supposed to be my day of rest. But then I get a great idea for a video, blogpost, or new Christian formation class. I remember that the agenda for a meeting hasn’t gone out yet and that I need to reply to a quick email. I understand that life will creep in and that the work of the Church will always try to sneak into my time off but by picking those tasks up I have put my sabbat down. I can’t hold the two in tension. 

I don’t have the exact solution for this but I do know it involves realizing that I can’t just push pause on my work life. Planning and scheduling are a good start but we already knew that. Drawing boundaries is the catchphrase advice that finds its way into every clergy self-help book. I think it begins with looking at our hands and giving ourselves permission to actually put something down. Juggling is a great party trick but it needs to cease being a virtue that we extol in one another. I don’t know if we secretly admire or feel pity for the person whose life is a carefully orchestrated plate spinning routine, running from one plate to another as they slow down and threaten to fall. But I wonder if we are giving one another space to let the performance stop, for the plates to fall, and for a new way of working and resting to take hold. It would be one that says my life isn’t about how much I can hold onto, it’s about how much I can savor in this moment, this one thing, this one person, this one place. We wouldn’t need a pause button, and we wouldn’t be tempted to fast forward.