IVP Writers' Retreat

I started my sabbatical by accepting an invitation to a writers' retreat for those who are working on IVP projects. It was a brilliant idea: take folks who have various projects to a retreat center, give them time to write, mix in sessions from editors and authors on writing, research, and marketing, host reading groups to share our writing with other authors, and then build friendships with truly lovely people along the way.

On honesty, I can't think of a better way to downshift from an overloaded semester of teaching, developing courses, and finally finishing development on a new master's degree program we are now offering.

I learned a lot from the sessions and came away with a draft of a chapter or two. But really, what I'm going to treasure out of this are the friendships I made with people who are doing creative and faithful work. I'm looking forward to seeing the projects I've heard about make their way into the world, and you can be sure I'm going to be sharing a lot about them when they do. Thanks, IVP. It's been so deeply life-giving, and hold these days as a gift for years to come.

Book Project on Theological Method

The first book on theology or ministry that I distinctly remember opening a world to me was a book by Eddie Gibbs, published by InterVaristy Press. Over the years, I've come to appreciate IVP's approach to developing books that can reach a wide audience with world-opening ideas.

Several years ago, I got the opportunity to give a presentation at the Wheaton Theology Conference, and afterward an editor from IVP Academic asked if I'd be interested in publishing with them. I was just starting a new job and moving to a new city, and all I really had in the pipeline was my newly-finished dissertation that I was ready to set aside after years of work on it, so I asked if I could think about it for a while.

After finding a groove in university life (read, doing something more than furiously preparing for the next lecture that was starting in 12 minutes), I was able to do some creative work in the form of some introductory lectures on the way theology is done. I stumbled on an idea to look to figures in Scripture to see how these ancient text portray theological life and work, long before 'theology' was a distinct discipline in an academic setting.

I found that Mary can teach us how to ponder in the work of theology. Jacob reminds us how to wrestle. Thomas has a thing or two to teach us about doubt in the work of theology, and Sarah opens a space for us to reflect on laughter and humor as part of the theological life. In honesty, these lectures weren't only a lot of fun to write, they also seemed to connect with the students. One of them got a tattoo because of something I shared about Jeremiah and theological epistemology. I figured if she can get ink on her arm, I can put some ink on paper. So that's the book I'm writing. It still needs a title, so if you've got any brilliant ideas, I'm here for them.

Beginning Rest

The thought of taking a sabbatical doesn't immediately stir feelings of rest in me. I'm hopelessly extroverted, so the idea of stepping away from a university campus filled with life strikes a bit of fear in me. If you think of it, pray for me. I'm grateful for the opportunity, of course. I'm thrilled to be serving a place that offers the opportunity to take a semester away, and I know it will go quickly, so I'll be offering a bit of a record of it here, mainly for the sake of taking account of a gift.

Logging my plan here will hopefully afford a bit of accountability for what I hope to do. Of course, my instinct is to list all the things I plan to accomplish and call that what I hope to do. I wouldn't need accountability for that. I need accountability to rest.

This year, I've formed a group of other theology professors who meet together on Zoom for mutual encouragement and such. When I confessed to them that I was having trouble making decisions on all that I was going to accomplish over sabbatical, one of them wisely said, "Or you could rest. That would be enough."

That was enough wisdom for me to adjust my plan. I abandoned the notion of tackling two writing projects or starting another degree program. I'm going to stick to the book project I've been contracted to write, and then take a week to sit on a beach with Shawna, and take a week to pray with the Franciscans, and take a few trips to do things my kids barely tolerate, like visiting aviation museums and the Corvette museum in Bowling Green. I'm also going to feed my interest in economic development by visiting organizations and centers of social entrepreneurship around Nashville. Reading will happen for the sheer enjoyment of it and relive my college days by going to a Caedmon's Call concert at the Ryman. That sounds like fun, and that sounds like rest. Still, if you think of it and would be willing, pray for me.