Sabbatical Zones #7- The Avocation Zone

The what zone?

Avocation.  It means something which isn’t your calling/work/job, but something you still want to take seriously.  You think about it, talk about it, read about it.  To describe it as a hobby or a pastime seems a bit too trivial. It’s not something you engage in with anywhere near the seriousness of your employment, but it’s still something stretching and challenging. Difficult, even. ‘Amusement’ means not open to thought (‘musing’) – but it’s not that. 

I’ve heard it described as a person’s ‘hinterland’ – a region not directly visible or accessible, but a richly furnished, well-occupied space.  It’s a place you go to by choice, with consideration.  It’s the opposite of just scrolling social media.

And as a Christian, it’s still something we engage in as disciples.  We think biblically about it, justify its place in our life, pray about it. 

For me, no surprises, it contains art – enjoying and making paintings and drawings. Other things interest me, of course, but this is an area where I deliberately try to practice, improve and challenge myself.

So, I wanted to make sure my season of study leave had a chance to engage with this, not just reading and thinking theologically, but getting stuck in.

Why?

I spend my time dealing with words –  reading, writing, talking, teaching, discussing, listening –  and to do something that doesn’t involve words is really refreshing for me.  More – when I’m immersed in trying to paint or draw, I can’t listen or speak at the same time.

I spend my time dealing with open tasks – leading, preaching, discipling, counselling and so on, are never really ‘done.’  Projects might be, but people aren’t projects.  So to do something which has a finish point, or at least enough of a finish point that Ic an walk away from it, is pleasing.

I spend my time dealing with matters which are weighty –  you don’t need me to give you a list.  Spiritual matters are by definition non-trivial.  And many of them are difficult, painful, weakening.  To do something which, frankly doesn’t really matter very much and that’s OK, is OK.

I spend my time dealing with ideas and concepts, truth and non-truth, worldviews and wisdom.  To engage with something physical is good.  Other people do gardening or cooking or tinkering with engines for pleasure; for me there is a similar sense of dealing-with-creation in mixing pigment into egg yolk, the feel of the drag of charcoal on paper, the gentle granulation and subtle separation of colours as good watercolour paint settles into the ridges and hollows of the paper.  

I like colour, and line, and form, and tone.  I like a variety of media and the challenges they present.  I like learning a new task, a new way of looking and presenting. I like going over the way a great artist has done something, and seeing how they worked their magic.

Now, your mileage will vary. You may find as much pleasure in knowing the way round the basic sauces of classic French cooking, or the right way to cut a mortis and tenon joint, or playing the blues, or the f-stops on your camera  –  or, whatever.  You get the idea. Not just enjoying ourselves, though that’s not wrong. Not just switching off – we all need that. Certainly not to ‘kill time’ – I don’t think the normal Christian life easily makes time for much of that idea. Instead, it’s being differently productive, enjoying our more hidden but still unique gifts in a Christ-honouring way. It’s active, not passive, pleasure.

Be differently productive, enjoying our more hidden but still unique gifts in a Christ-honouring way. It’s active, not passive, pleasure.

You might say that previous generations haven’t done this, and I would say that they did, in various ways.  You might be bookish, like Augustine – his written work comes out of hours of quiet engagement with the pagan classics of his time. According to Ecclesiastes, Solomon had a zoo, and a garden, and a wine cellar, and a scientific and artistic curiosity. Jonathan Edwards deeply loved nature. In our day, Tim Keller was passionate about Tolkien;  John Stott was a famous and very well-informed bird-watcher.

You might say that many people do not have the luxury to have that kind of space, and I would agree. If you’re a parent of younger children, or the child of an elderly parent, or seeing a lot of doctors, or, or, or, your life is used otherwise, well and properly. And this is a wealthy person’s problem: even in the 21st century, life for many people is grim, and daily a burden.

Do you want to try to make a pastor feel guilty for not working when there are souls to be saved? Trust me, you wouldn’t be the first, and you’re behind me in the queue. But as I was taught years ago, the post of Messiah is already occupied. I am finite and replaceable – and as Luther almost said, ‘While I sit here in Italy, mixing paints with my friends, the gospel runs its course.’

You and I do probably have some of that time, without that being exploitative of others  And once we have done our work/ministry to the best of our ability, I think it’s good for us to have something intentional to occupy our minds, and where we can take deep pleasure and refreshment, as a disciple in a different context.

Mull it over – what does your ‘A-vocational’ zone look like?