What's in a Name

So what's a glass cave?

In September of last year I was with a friend and mentor of mine to get some life advice. We were walking around my old stomping grounds in Colorado Springs, a place of prayer and reflection. I've got many "fathers in the faith", but on this day I was walking with Joe Steinke. Joe had recently ended a sabbatical and was in the middle of a major life transition.

Looking back I was eager for every morsel of wisdom he had to offer. Those in Christian ministry know the past 4 years have been, well, a lot. Covid changed the scene and every setting was ripe with political strife. Racial tensions flared. A movement of disillusionments continued to grow followed by scandal after scandal in the Evangelical world. It's been a time of reckoning for the American Church and a wild ride for anyone involved, especially leaders.

I remember listening to Joe and thinking how brave he was to embark into a new season that had more questions than answers. What was next for him? What was he passionate about? What about his income, his family, his legacy? How does one even go about stopping everything to ask the deeper questions and take time to pay attention to their soul? Joe described his sabbatical as going into the cave. A time of solitude and reflection.

The whole thing sounded very dreamy to me but also terrifying. And now, here I was, walking with Gandalf himself, after he'd experienced the cave and chosen a path forward. His face was aglow. His countenance full of peace. He seemed to exude a quiet, contented joy that was familiar to me, but distant.

I had a moment. One of those moments you can look back on and pinpoint. I looked at Joe and said to myself, "I want what you have." It was a gospel encounter all over again, but this time through a man who'd been practicing a way of life I lacked. Rest. I knew with absolute certainty that I needed my own cave experience. A time to retreat from the pace and demands of ministry in order to be more present to God, family, and myself.

Thank God this year I was scheduled for sabbatical. I work with an incredibly wise team that wrote sabbatical into our bi-laws. For that I am truly grateful. It's come at the perfect time.

There's a children's book call "Mr. Tiger." It's absolutely brilliant. It's about a city of wild animals who are very sophisticated and proper. They conduct themselves with perfect manors and act very civilized. But Mr. Tiger becomes fed up with the whole thing. He starts breaking the code of conduct, acting wild and disrupting the norm until, one day, he leaves for the jungle. He's had enough. He breaks free of the expectations and rigmarole and bounds into his natural habitat. It's epic.

In the jungle Mr. Tiger listens to his natural instinct and practices being himself. He rediscovers who he is. And then, after all that soul searching and self-care, he becomes lonely. He looks to the city and decides to return. Only when Mr. Tiger returns he finds that his escape from the tyranny of undue pressures of society mobilized a movement. Now everyone in the city was a bit more themselves, a bit more wild.

Every time I read the book to my kids I think of Joe. He did it. He threw off the pressures and demands and he ran into the wild by entering a sabbatical. It was brilliant and bold and daring! Upon his return, though, I took one look at him and wanted to do the same. His courage sparked courage in me to go a bit wild and return to my natural "habitat." In this case that habitat is the Spirit of God, a home of friendship and intimacy carved out from my youth.

So why the "glass cave?"

Because I believe that on some level every cave experience is to be shared, accessible, with a window to peer into and learn from. I think humanity is terrible at doing anything alone, and rightfully so. Because maybe my dynamic process and internal wrestle will act as a cheerleader to someone else's. Maybe my honesty and reflection can illuminate someone else's cave of reflection the way Joe illuminated something for me.

I believe in solitude and am an advocate for silence. Honestly, though, I think we've all been standing at the mouth of a cave for several years. The Lord's been beckoning the church into the wild. To go deeper. To examine. Peer into the darkness until our eyes adjust and we can see rightly again. I think that season belongs to all of us, sabbatical or not.

Cave, because it may be feel secluded, dark and mysterious at times. But also deeply covered and protected from the elements that seek to harm and destroy.

Glass, because all are welcome.