(from chapter 26, "Emmaus Walks")

"[our Quaker retreat leader} warned us against shortcuts [to solve the "badlands"]. he encouraged us to submit ourselves to the boredom, the refining fire of nonperformance, not to be in a hurry. 'A lot is going on when you don't think anything is going on.'

...He went on to suggest that we deepen our understanding of what we were already doing into an intentional Sabbath. A day off, he said is a 'bastard Sabbath'. He affirmed our commitment to a day of not-doing, a day of not-working. 'That's a start. You've gotten yourselves out of the way. Why not go all the way: keep the day as a Sabbath, embrace silence, embrace prayer - silence and prayer. Hallow the name.'

...We quit taking a "day off" and began keeping a "Sabbath", a day in which we deliberately separated ourselves from the work week - in our case being pastor and pastor's wife - and gave ourselves to being present to what God has done and is doing, this creation in which we have been set down and this salvation in which we have been invited to be participants in a God-revealed life of resurrection.

We kept Monday as our Sabbath. For us Sunday was a workday. But we had already found that Monday could serve quite well as a day to get out of the way and be present to whatever...It was a day of nonnecessities: we prayed and we played.

(from chapter 29, "Write In a Book What You See")

"heuristic writing - writing to explore and discover what I didn't know. Writing as a way of entering into language and letting language enter me, words connecting with words and creating what had previously been inarticulate or unnoticed or hidden. Writing as a way of paying attention. Writing as an act of prayer.

(from chapter 24, "Heather-scented Theology")

"...I was more than ever what I had been becoming for a long time - a contemplative pastor. In these early years when I was becoming a pastor, I needed a pastor. Some deep and cultivated pastoral instinct in Ian responded: he became my pastor without making me a project, without giving me advice, without smothering me with his concerns... I learned, without being aware that I was learning of the immense freedom that comes in pastoral relationships that are structured by prayer and ritual and let everything else happen more or less spontaneously. The competitiveness didn't exactly leave me, but it developed a root system that didn't depend on artificial stimulants or chemical additives - like 'start another building campaign.

(from chapter 29, "Write in a Book What You See')

"The phrase that gave us focus was 'a long obedience in the same direction.' (Nietzsche)

...Early on in my reading I came upon this sentence: 'The essential thing in heaven and earth is...that there should be a long obedience in the same direction; there thereby results, and has always resulted in the long run something that has made life worth living.' That struck me as a text I could live with. I saw myself assigned to give witness to the sheer liveability of the Christian life that everything in scripture and Jesus was here to be lived. In the mess of work and sin, of families and neighborhoods, my task was to pray and give direction and encourage that lived quality of the gospel - patiently, locally, and personally.

Patiently: I would stay with those people; there are no quick or easy ways to do this.

Locally: I would embrace the conditions of this place - economics, weather, culture, schools, whatever - so that there would be nothing abstract or piously idealized about what I was doing.

Personally: I would know them, know their names, know their homes, know their families, know their work - but I would not pry. I would not treat them as a cause or a project. I would treat them with dignity.

Preaching, of course, is part of it, teaching is part of it, administering a congregation as a community of faith is part of it. But the overall context of my particular assignment in the pastoral vocation, as much as I am able to do it, is to see to it that these men and women in my congregation become aware of the possibilities and the promise of living out in personal and local detail what is involved in following Jesus, and be companion to them as we do it together.

(from chapter 16, "Catacombs Presbyterian Church"):

"When is this going to happen? How long do we have to wait? When does construction begin? Jesus's response was 'It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority.'

In other words, it's none of your business. Your question is irrelevant. That kind of information is of no use to you. It would probably confuse you, might discourage you, and would certainly distract you.

(from chapter 20, "Bezalel")

"We were getting it: worship was not so much what we did, but what we let God do in and for us. These months of worship in our catacombs sanctuary had made their mark on us. We were a people of God gathered to worship God. The single word, "worship," defined what we were about.

The congregational consensus emerged not so much by talking about it, but by simply doing it: worship was our signature activity, the distinctive act that set us apart from all other social structures - schools, businesses, athletic teams, political parties, government agencies. It was not achieved through a Bible study or a discussion that pooled our various expectations and came up with something we could all live with. We simply met every Sunday and worshipped God. We sang together, prayed together, listened to scripture together, received the Sacrament together, baptized our children and converts, and went back to our homes ready to enter a week of work with the blessing of God on us.

...The ordinariness of our lives and the circumstances of the catacombs cleared our minds of romantic and utopian illusions regarding church.