Leisure Resurrected: Rekindling the Fire of Early Christian Communities

By Jeffrey Paul Crittenden, Rowan Williams and Walter Brueggemann

As the church emerges from the impact of COVID, how will it reimagine its mission? With all the disruption COVID caused comes an opportunity for congregations. How will the local church organize itself, engage with the neighborhood and world, and offer pastoral care to a planet dealing with the significant issues heightened during COVID? Returning to old patterns of behavior is a wasted chance. A theological opportunity for the church lies in rediscovering the classical aim of leisure.

The early church during the first two centuries offers us an understanding of leisure quite unique from the dominant expressions of leisure, such as Greek schole, Roman otium, and the Jewish Sabbath. By exploring early Christian practices, we can find insights about leisure for mission today. These practices include setting aside a single day of the week to worship, sharing in a common meal open to all, and, following the meal, incorporating into nonwork time care and engagement in the health and vitality of the community in the name of Jesus Christ. The followers of Jesus were consistent, if extraordinary, in meeting weekly, on the Lord's Day, to worship, eat together, and go out into the neighborhood to live out their faith.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pickwick Publications
• Release date: Apr 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9781666751192

Jeffrey Paul Crittenden

Jeff Crittenden is an assistant professor of Homiletics at Huron University in London, Ontario, the senior minister of Metropolitan United Church in London, Ontario, and the founder and director of the Centre for Practical Theology (Canada).

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Introduction

Jeff Crittenden has taken on the arduous task of tracing the historical, critical roots of leisure as it is practiced in contemporary society and as it is commended in gospel faith. This is a most ambitious undertaking, and Crittenden has acquitted himself well. He gives considerable probing attention to the cultural roots of leisure in Greek, Roman, and Jewish traditions. While each of these traditions evidences very different accents, it turns out that each knew, even in inchoate ways, that human and social life could never be reduced to the mere routines of production and consumption. In Crittenden’s hands, leisure becomes an umbrella term for a wide variety of social practices that include critical reflection, freedom from necessity, and undisturbed contemplation. Each of these cultures understood that human, social life is not sustainable or viable without such way of attentiveness that has the effect of placing in contexts the importance of day-to-day acts of maintenance. In a variety of ways, these traditions value and advocate for a profound freedom that prevents human life from being defined by necessity.

Building from the defining traditions of Greek, Roman, and Jewish culture, Crittenden moves the discussion toward Christian tradition and Christian practice that at the same time draws on these traditions and distinguishes itself from them with its singular attentiveness to the person and work of Jesus. Two crucial things emerge from this rich analysis. First, the Christian understanding of Sabbath is defined, empowered, and governed by the work of God’s Holy Spirit. Crittenden offers an extensive critical review of texts, biblical and ancient, that attest to the work of the Spirit. Elusive as the work of the Spirit surely is, this testimony makes clear that leisure of a restorative kind is grounded beyond human actions. The Spirit is the invasive and sustaining work of God’s providential governance that gives good gifts but is never fully captured by our compulsion to manage and control. The vital importance of the Spirit for the reality of leisure assures that we will and must not confuse leisure grounded in faith with the self-indulgent propensities of our consumer culture.

Second, Crittenden pays extensive attention to the meal as a facet of leisure. The capacity to have time, food, and opportunity for conversation is undoubtedly a restorative social practice. In Christian tradition, however, the meal signifies more than that. The meal is an opportunity for remembering the work of Jesus: Do this in remembrance. It is an opportunity in the sacramental life of the church to embrace the transformative presence of Christ, to remember, anticipate, and experience Christ in risen, transformative power. The meal in Christian tradition is linked to the death of Jesus, the risen life of Jesus, and the coming establishment of his governance among us, a regime of mercy, compassion, and justice.

The work of the Spirit and the force of the meal together give a singular slant to Christian leisure that has nothing to do with self-centered cultural practices. Crittenden shows the decisive way in which Christian practice was disrupting the various Roman cultures and values. As he writes in chapter 9: The early Christian communities were living out their faith voluntarily, and more often their faith activities either disrupted their workday or occurred before and after work. Christian service, as virtue and love of one’s neighbor, is a redefined participatory leisure experience.

At the center of Christian leisure, then, is the love of neighbor that invites and requires a redefined participatory leisure experience. Christian tradition thus redefines happiness as joy that invites human persons in community to find joy in ways other than and beyond the conventional leisure of our culture. Indeed, Christian leisure focuses on practices that our consumer society seeks, as it is able, to minimize. Thus, Christian leisure is an invitation to reflect on and savor the gifts of the Spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control, as in Gal 5:22–23). This is in contrast to much widely embraced leisure in our culture that is grounded in works of the flesh (sexual immorality, impurity, debauchery, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy, drunkenness, and carousing, as in Gal 5:19–21).

In chapter 9, Crittenden summarizes: The key is that in this voluntary experience, one chooses to freely give one’s time, effort, money, abilities, identity, etc., for the purpose of God’s kingdom on earth, as it is in heaven. The aim of using one’s leisure for the purpose of helping others is to experience leisure—God’s leisure of peace, justice, compassion, and above all, grace.

Such leisure is an anticipation of the coming rule of God and a practice of that new governance that contradicts the regime of money, power, and the fleshly dimension of dominant culture. Given such practice, Crittenden writes, the gathering of the church is a gathering of people for transformative engagement. The conclusion so well drawn by Crittenden is a compelling reiteration of the good word from Jesus that Sabbath was made for humankind (Mark 2:27) so that the day of leisure is a good day for compassion, healing, and transformation. Such a way of living is open to and derives from the work of the Spirit, as Crittenden notes in chapter 10: The Holy Spirit reminds us that we are created in the image of God, that we are beloved children of God, that we belong to God, and that nothing can separate us from God.

It turns out that such investment in human well-being is an echo of and participation in the resurrection of Jesus, the offer of a transformed human body in a transformed body politic. The conclusions drawn by Crittenden are breathtaking in their reach, but at the same time are clearly on offer and available in every community of Christian faith. This powerful book is an affirmation and an invitation. It is also a summons to cease and desist from the practices of a consumer culture that seeks to define neighbor as competitor and threat.

Like every good critical book, Crittenden’s book, as he knows, could be carried further, for example, in the direction of socio-economic analysis. While Crittenden does not engage in such social differentiation, that may be a next step in our probe of leisure. We may ask: Who has leisure? Who works so that others may have leisure? Who works for low pay so that others may do leisure well? What has to happen so that the disadvantaged may also have leisure? These questions may indeed propel us toward urgent policy issues. In any case, it is clear that leisure cannot be privatized apart from the well-being of the entire neighborhood. There is no naïve, faithful practice of leisure that is so innocent as not to notice the neighborhood in which our leisure is practiced.

The reach of this book is toward Easter. It is of course about leisure. But it is leisure (as the title indicates) resurrected, that is, brought to new and powerful life in a new form of vitality, courage, and energy. This renewed, reformed leisure is linked to the resurrection of Jesus and the gift of new life. Leisure, in Christian tradition, draws toward and is powered by the Easter gift of new life, so that in our leisure we are indeed Eastered for new, glad obedience.

I am pleased to congratulate Jeff Crittenden on his fine work and to state how proud I am to be among his teachers. This book will now be the state-of-the-art reference for all subsequent study of faithful leisure. Given our deep urge to be self-sufficient, the capacity to receive freedom as a gift from the Spirit of God, always renewed via the meal, will forever remain unfinished business among us. This book is a splendid guide for that continuing work.

Walter Brueggemann

Old Testament scholar, professor, and author

1

A Leisurely Beginning

The primary question is whether there are elements of Christian writings from the first to mid-second century that can inform a Christian understanding of leisure today. From here, other questions emerge. Do these early Christian writings reflect a Greek understanding of leisure (schole—contemplation, freedom, and virtue) or a Roman understanding (otium—recreation, a break or distraction, rejuvenation from work), and can they guide a Christian understanding of leisure today? And finally, a question about the first day of the week (Sunday, then, a regular workday in the Roman empire). Can this day and the activities associated with it, as described in early Christian writings, be considered a reinterpretation of classical leisure that can shape a Christian understanding of leisure today?

From Aristotle to a Post-Pandemic World

The emergence of recreation and leisure as a field of study in Western civilization dates back at least to Aristotle (384–22 BCE). While there is evidence of a variety of expressions and experiences of recreation and leisure before and after Aristotle,¹ he is commonly cited as the foundational, systematized source. Building on Aristotle’s definition of leisure as the pursuit of a life focused on happiness, human flourishing, and well-being, the experience and pursuit of leisure have gone through numerous twists, turns, redefinitions, and understandings—most significantly in the periods of the Roman empire, the Industrial Revolution, and the twenty-first century, as the entire world emerges from the COVID-19 pandemic. Particularly in light of the restriction of travel that left people isolated in their houses and restricted to socializing with immediate family, the pandemic has brought tremendous economic difficulty. The nature of work, employment, and the flow and purchase of goods and services were severely restricted and under profound social constraint. COVID has not only affected the world in terms of recreation and leisure, as many people have had large amounts of discretionary time, it has also dramatically affected the church.

Church services, on the first day of the week, were canceled, and the Eucharist could not be celebrated. All that remained for Christians to participate in was caring for their neighbor—practiced by social distancing, wearing a mask, making contact via technology with other isolated and vulnerable people and communities (such as those in hospitals and long-term care homes or on the streets), and receiving, as it became available, a vaccine. How to live, to survive, to flourish, as Aristotle describes it, became the focus of the entire world. How to use one’s leisure time—beyond watching Netflix, endlessly scrolling social media, or engaging in other distractions to relieve the boredom or fill the time—became the challenge.

It is in this moment, especially as the world is slowly emerging from the pandemic, that the church has a profound opportunity to reclaim the theological implications of classical leisure as practiced in the early church. As the experience of COVID and its restrictions linger, the church can help us theologically reflect on our collective and individual experiences and can offer a theological response found uniquely in Christian leisure as described in the pre-Constantinian church.

Definitions of Leisure

Leisure studies scholar George Karlis offers three distinctions in the leisure studies field: leisure as discretionary time, leisure as free-time activity, and leisure as personal experience and state of being.² Leisure studies scholar Paul Heintzman lists seven: classical leisure, leisure as activity, leisure as free time, leisure as a symbol of social class, leisure as a state of mind, feminist leisure, and holistic leisure.³ Finally, Jeffrey Godbey and Thomas Goodale, pioneers in leisure research, offer this understanding: Leisure is living in relative freedom from the external compulsive forces of one’s culture and physical environment so as to be able to act from internally compelling love in ways which are personally pleasing, intuitively worthwhile and provide a basis for faith.⁴

These categories will offer helpful guides as we navigate the landscape of leisure. There are three primary etymological sources of the modern understanding of leisure. The old French leisir derives from the French licer, which relates to freedom and also signifies permission or licence. The other two sources are Greek schole and Latin otium, both of which will be explored in this book. In its present-day understanding, leisure signifies free time, freedom from or freedom for some activity, unoccupied time, and time at one’s own disposal, but it is often confused with recreation. The difference is tremendous. Ironically, in our current understanding, where leisure and recreation are often indistinguishable, people consider their non-work time as a time to exercise, run errands, sleep, or rest in preparation for working again. Sadly, the high and noble calling of classical leisure is lost, waiting to be reclaimed and rejuvenated.

From the beginning of human activity, there have been accounts of work and of recreation and leisure. When one notices paintings on cave walls, hears music, tells stories, plays games, has sex, recognizes the transcendent in a variety of expressions, or simply gazes at the night sky filled with stars, one acknowledges moments of non-work activity throughout history.⁵ Indeed, humanity has experienced moments of awe, mystery, and creativity through the ages. As one approaches Aristotle, the first to define, philosophize, and record his thoughts about leisure, one must hold on to the myriad of experiences and understandings of leisure as offered by Johan Bouwer and Marco van Leeuwen:

measuring human progress, revealing human purpose, reflecting the meaning of life, free time, free from obligations and commitment, different kinds of activities, different kinds of qualities, recreation, a state of mind, work-related representations, festivity and celebration, recuperation, nourishment of the human soul, relaxation, entertainment, communicative rationality, a paradox between freedom and constraint, agency and identity, unforced and positive activity, and the representation of place and space.⁶

All these aspects and many more find their origins in Greek schole, Roman otium, and the Jewish Sabbath. Holding the tensions of these three understandings of leisure, Christians upheld the noblest aspect of Aristotle’s ideals of leisure as the pursuit of the Divine in worship, prayer, and contemplation. Furthermore, consistent with Aristotle’s emphasis on ethics and virtue, Christianity also strove for the virtuous life, as later exemplified by Pope Gregory in 590 CE: the four cardinal virtues of prudence, temperance, fortitude, and justice and the three theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity. At the same time, Christianity held otium, the notion of escaping the obligations of work, in disdain and suspicion. An excellent example is the list of the seven deadly sins, also from Pope Gregory: pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, and sloth. Indeed, the early church would come to label non-work as accidie, meaning sloth and idleness, and would eventually name it a deadly sin—that is, something of the devil. The seeds were being sown to redefine leisure and recreation in dualistic terms. Leisure as contemplation and worship of the Christian God was cast as virtuous and holy, while otium, as understood in Roman terms, was put forth as idle, lazy, corrupt, and, ultimately, of the devil.

The Influence of Constantine

This dichotomy emerges in the early church and continues throughout its history. On March 7, 321 CE, Roman Emperor Constantine established an edict that set in motion an official empire-wide understanding of Christian worship, practices, and Sabbath. Constantine set the definitions of the Christian life and created an orthodoxy, practices, and beliefs that continue today. Constantine enforced that,

On the venerable Day of the Sun, let the magistrates and people residing in cities rest, and let all workshops be closed. In the country, however, persons engaged in agriculture may freely and lawfully continue their pursuits; because it often happens that another day is not so suitable for grain-sowing or for vine-planting; lest by neglecting the proper moment for such operations, the bounty of heaven should be lost.⁷

This decision marked the official day for Christian worship as Sunday and not the Sabbath (Saturday); further, Constantine also decreed who was able to work on Sunday and who was not, for obvious practical reasons. Gone was the idea of the Jewish Sabbath, as Constantine’s decree simply dictated a day of rest for some and worship for all. It did not take long before the church began discerning what activities were permissible on the day of worship. Consequently, on the Lord’s Day, Sunday, there was a rise in the concern about idleness or how one spent one’s non-work time.

As Christianity became the Roman empire’s religion, a position of prestige and power, concern grew for how people spent their time and for what purpose. Drawing on the letters of St. Paul, the post-Constantinian church was clear that idleness and virtuous behavior were of grave concern to one’s spiritual life, to one’s leisure, commanding the followers of Jesus to keep away from believers who are living in idleness and not according to the tradition that they received from us. The passage continues: For you yourselves know how you ought to imitate us; we were not idle when we were with you, and we did not eat anyone’s bread without paying for it; but with toil and labor we worked night and day, so that we might not burden any of you . . . Anyone unwilling to work should not eat.⁸

This understanding of work, or busyness, as a mark of the Christian life would provide the blueprint for the Protestant work ethic, drawing heavily on St. Paul’s description of the desires of the flesh for Christian virtue:

Now, the works of the flesh are obvious: fornication, impurity, licentiousness, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy, drunkenness, carousing, and things like these. I am warning you, as I warned you before: those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God. By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.⁹

With clear lines drawn in regard to Christian worship on Sunday, Christian preference for work against idleness, and Christian virtue as against the pleasures of the flesh and toward spiritual matters, the tensions become clear: Sabbath as rest, holiness, and relationship with all of creation in the worship of the one living God; schole as contemplation, freedom, and virtue; otium as recreation, a break or distraction, rejuvenation from work and Jesus’ fulfillment, joy, and service to others as the source of Christian leisure. This tension surfaces and resurfaces in Christian leisure from Constantine to today.

Different Concepts of Leisure

Christian perspectives on leisure, from Constantine’s vision of Christianity as the empire’s religion until today, are diverse, especially when considering Sabbath rest, Roman idleness, and Greek virtue. Consider the variety of Christian perspectives on how leisure is conceptualized—from the Scriptures and early church fathers like Tertullian (155–220 CE), to the Desert Fathers and Mothers (250–350 CE), to Constantine’s (272–337 CE) tolerance of Christianity as legal practice among the Roman empire’s numerous religious observances (313 CE), from Augustine (354–430 CE) until today.

Writing from Carthage, Christian apologist Tertullian is clear about his theological stance against the Roman games, theater, and festivals, and the cult of Bacchus, the god of wine and pleasure. Tertullian categorizes the various Roman pleasures as sins of idolatry. He insists that idolatry is behind all aspects of Roman culture: We have, I think, faithfully carried out our plan of showing in how many different ways the sin of idolatry clings to the shows, in respect of their origins, their titles, their equipment, their places of celebration, their arts; and we may hold it as a thing beyond all doubt, that for us who have twice renounced all idols, they are utterly unsuitable.¹⁰

Tertullian reemphasizes how a Christian community’s worship and meal, the Eucharist, are fundamentally different from Roman idolatry worship: . . . [W]e do not offer sacrifices to the gods, and we make no funeral oblations to the departed; nay, we do not partake of what is offered either in the one case or the other, for we cannot partake of God’s feast and the feast of devils.¹¹

Concluding that Christians need to decide about pleasure—whether they will succumb to its idolatries and devil-inspired ways or stamp out their natural desires for pleasure so that they might receive the pleasures of heaven—Tertullian sets the stage, in his writings, for Christians to choose between pleasure and following Jesus. Certainly, it is a false dichotomy, but it is still important to note the rapidly growing division. Tertullian, never one to disappoint, weighs in with his opinion that pleasure is to be dealt with, disengaged from, and defeated.

Thou art too dainty, Christian, if thou wouldst have pleasure in this life as well as in the next; nay, a fool thou art, if thou thinkest this life’s pleasures to be really pleasures. The philosophers, for instance, give the name of pleasure to quietness and repose; in that they have their bliss; in that they find entertainment: they even glory in it. You long for the goal, and the stage, and the dust, and the place of combat! I would have you answer me this question: Can we not live without pleasure, who cannot but with pleasure die? For what is our wish but the apostle’s, to leave the world, and be taken up into the fellowship of our Lord? You have your joys where you have your longings.¹²

Before and after the Constantinian law allowing Christians the freedom to legally practice their faith, groups and individuals left the cities and villages and headed into the desert to dedicate their lives to contemplation, prayer, and simplicity. They were escaping the pressures of the politics and complications of faith that often resulted in isolation, ostentation, punishment, ridicule, and exclusion in both the Roman empire and within the church itself, as described in Benedicta Ward’s The Sayings of the Desert Fathers.¹³ Their aim was to defeat the desires of the flesh and be at peace in the holiness of God and God’s grace—or, in the terms of this book, to defeat Roman leisure and replace it with the mind of