In my off hours lately I’ve been watching “The Chosen” — have you heard of it? It’s a TV series fully funded by donations and tells the story of Jesus’ disciples (the chosen, get it?). Before you rush to conclusions and start picturing all the other Bible shows you’ve seen, let me tell you — there’s something different about the way this one depicts the gospel stories. For one, they’re in no rush to tell the story in 10 succinct episodes.  

Episodes are slow. They imagine some of the gaps in story that Matthew, Mark, Luke and John give us. The one I watched last night that I can’t stop thinking about today focused on the wedding at Cana (John 2:1-12). You know, the one where the wedding hosts run out of wine and Jesus performs His first public miracle. The show is bringing to life all kinds of details and aspects of 30 AD life that I’d never considered: local watering holes where people met up, the truly small villages people lived in, the constant presence of Roman officials in Jewish life, even just the aloneness someone traveling by themself would feel going to bed in a tent at night. The slow, deliberate pace of the show is making me stop and consider in a new, slower way what life may have been like for Jesus as He stepped into His earthly ministry. 

In that specific episode of the wedding in Cana, as I watched the wedding guests dance and celebrate, sit around laughing, joking and playing games, I heard myself say out loud, “It’s fun to see them having fun.” We don’t think about it a lot, it’s not the point of a lot of sermons, but Jesus and His disciples — they had fun together.  

That idea was still rolling around in my mind this morning as I was reading. I’m in the middle of a book about everyday practices to help you slow down and live life — wide, spacious, close life — with God. Here’s the part that really stopped me in my tracks this morning: “I think it was Archibald Hart who pointed out that because we are so accustomed to moving pedal to the metal in our own world, the thing we overlook in the Gospels are all of the in-between times when Christ and his followers were walking from one town to another When the record states, ‘The next day Jesus decided to leave for Galilee’ (John 1:43), we project our own pace upon it, not realizing it took the boys three days by foot to get there. Three days just strolling along, talking, or sharing the silent beauty; the pauses for lunch or a drink from a well; the campfires in the evening. Even as I write this, it sounds luxurious, Christ does not move immediately from one dramatic story to another; there was down time, transition time between those demands. Time to process what had happened (these are the moments you see the disciples asking questions; ‘what did you mean by …?’). Time to catch their breath before the next encounter. That was the pace Jesus felt was reasonable for people engaged in important things and wanting a life with God.”¹ 

That’s when it hit me: efficiency, where we pack our days morning to night, answer emails while sitting in a meeting, take the shortest and quickest route everywhere, I’m not so sure it’s high on God’s list of priorities for us.  

Think about it — how many days did God take to create the world? Six days, Genesis tells us. This is the same God who set the stars at home in the sky, who told ocean waves they could only come so far, who is beyond our comprehension. I’m pretty sure this God could have created everything in a moment, a single word — that would have been “efficient,” but He took a different approach. 

We see the same pattern in Jesus’ life and ministry. Him living for 30-ish years before beginning his public ministry — that was not the efficient route. It was slow and stretched out. His public ministry building over three years one mile at a time, one teaching, one encounter, one wedding celebration at a time — that wasn’t “efficient” either. Think about the encounters people had with Jesus that Matthew, Mark, Luke and John share. Jesus often drew people in, asking plenty of questions before getting to the heart of the matter. He could heal someone in an instant, but He often drew people into conversation first.  

Now, to be clear, yes: God has numbered our days (Psalm 139:16) and given us a race to run (1 Corinthians 9:24). We’re meant to live with the great purpose of taking His message, the gospel, to all the corners of our lives and world (Matthew 28:19-20) and there is a huge harvest waiting (Luke 10:2). We are called to live with eyes and ears open to God at work in and around us — but that does not require us to run ourselves ragged every hour of the day. That, I fully believe, is not what He expects of us.  

It’s August which means we are all about to launch ourselves into a new season that begs for efficiency — school and extra-curriculars bunched up on the calendar, busier workloads as companies gear up for the last quarter of the year. The moment tells us to pick up the pace. The world tells us summer is over and it’s time to get going. And, to get it all done, it’s time to be efficient — pack those errands in before going home even though you can feel how tired you really are. Plow through those emails in a meeting or text messages at a long stoplight because you’re finally still for 90 seconds. Fill every night with an activity because the invitations are coming in. 

To get it all done, the world around us says we just need more efficiency. But I’ve caught sight of something I won’t soon forget: Jesus having fun with His friends at a wedding. He’s not worried about packing every single second of His time with to-dos and I want to imitate that way of life. 

“Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls,” He says in Matthew 11:29. This fall, how can you learn from Jesus? How can you learn from His gentle, restful ways? Let’s ask Him. I think He’s ready to help us let go. 

_{1 “Get Your Life Back” by John Eldredge}